Page 81 of My Sweetest Temptation

“Yes. Nico made sure you were taken care of,” Ruby replied.

Of course he did. A smile crept onto my face, and I felt a flutter of excitement.

A knock at the door resonated through the quiet room. When the door swung open wide, Nico stood there, looking like a sexy Italian stallion.

His black hair was slicked back meticulously, and he wore a tailored black suit that perfectly clung to his form. The red vest beneath was adorned with dark, intricate designs, and his tattoos peeked out from beneath his shirt.

Why did that turn me on so much?

His plump lips curved into that sexy signature smirk. He held a beautiful display of vibrant red and delicate white roses, artfully arranged in a vase. I reached for the flowers, but he shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. He pressed a lingering kiss against my cheek, the warmth of his lips igniting a tremor that traveled through me. “You look fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate, before stepping past me into the kitchen, where he placed the flowers on the table.

“Thank you,” I managed to reply, my heart racing in the wake of his touch. When he returned, standing mere inches from me, the air thickened with unspoken tension. He took the coat from my hands, holding it out for me to slip into. With my back against his chest, the brush of his hands gliding up and down my arms sent a current of electricity coursing through me.

There was a heaviness in the air, a magnetic pull that drew my gaze downward, yet I felt the heat of his breath against my neck. I could feel the tension radiating from him, a silent storm brewing beneath the surface. Finally, as if surrendering to the inevitable, he exhaled deeply. “Let’s go, beautiful.”

NICO

Winter looked like she was plucked from the pages of a fairytale. The white dress I chose for her exposed her purity, each delicate stitch whispering of innocence and grace. The satin clung to her body, accentuating her waist and full breasts. It showed how innocent and perfect she was for this world—my world. But I was a selfish bastard who couldn’t bear to be apart from her, even though my presence could put her in my enemies’ hands.

The truth was, I would rather face that darkness with her than live in a world without her light. The moment she opened the door, I wanted to rip her dress off, fuck her, and keep my dick buried inside her the rest of the night. But I wanted to make the effort to get to know her. Sure, Luca could fill me in on everything he knew, but it wasn’t the same as finding out for myself.

We arrived at the restaurant and waited for the valet. After we exited the vehicle, I reached for her hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. As I looked down at our hands, I couldn’t help but notice how perfectly her delicate fingers fit within mine. It felt right—natural. I gently squeezed her hand, and she responded kindly, deepening our connection with that simple gesture.

I stole a glance at her, and the faintest smile graced her lips. It made my heart swell, pulling a grin from me that I couldn’t bury.

When we approached the front doors, the hostess was there to greet us. “Antonio,” I called out. Antonio was a short, sturdy man in his late fifties. The founder and owner poured his heart and soul into every detail. That made his restaurant the perfect place to bring Winter.

“Ah, Mr. Moretti. So good to see you.” He turned to Winter, his smile warm and welcoming. “Ciao, signorina.”

“Hi,” Winter replied, returning his smile, but I could see a hint of shyness in her demeanor.

“Is our table ready?” I asked him.

“Sì, sì. Per favore, seguimi,” he responded, gesturing for us to follow.

We walked through the restaurant with my hand resting on the small of Winter’s back, guiding her forward. The moment we stepped into the glass elevator, I stood close beside her, feeling the warmth radiating from her. She stared wide-eyed at the interior. So fucking innocent and untouched by the darker shades of life. What was I doing, drawing her into my world? Yet, there was something about her purity that sparked a fire within me, a desire to teach her the pleasures and pains that I could offer.

When the elevator doors opened to the rooftop, we stepped out into the soft glow of the evening. Antonio led us toward a secluded corner.

“Ecco il tavolo richiesto, signore,” he said, gesturing to our table.

“Thank you,” I replied, pulling out a chair for Winter.

A flickering candle cast a warm glow over the elegantly arranged table, where a bottle of red wine waited for us.

“The chef has prepared your meal per your request,” Antonio continued. “Along with your other requests,” he added with a knowing glint in his eye.

I nodded, taking my seat across from Winter, before he stepped away.

“Other requests?” she asked, an eyebrow raised.

“I planned a very special evening for you,” I explained, pouring her a glass of wine. “I hope you like wine,” I said, my voice steady, but the nerves bubbled beneath the surface like hot lava.

“Yes, I do.” She took a sip, her eyes widening.

“Oh, my God. This is so good. What is it?”

“It’s Chateau Lafite Rothschild Pauillac,” I replied, carefully pouring a second glass and watching her reaction. She almost choked on her drink, and I couldn’t help but smirk. “You okay?” I asked with a chuckle.

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