Page 85 of That's Amore

I swallowed, unsure how to explain the mess ofemotions swirling inside me. “Because…because what if…what if you go back to beingthatDante.”

He was silent for a moment, and I wondered if I’d said too much if I’d ruined whatever fragile thing we were trying to build. But then he shifted and rolled me underneath him.

“I know I hurt you.” He looked into my eyes, making sure I could see what he was saying, both with his words and his soul. “But it’s not happening again. Never on purpose.”

I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to. But a lifetime of being let down had left its scars, and I wasn’t sure if I could let them heal.

“What if you change your mind?” I asked, my words barely above a whisper. “What if one day you wake up and decide I’m not enough?”

His hand moved to my chin, tilting my face up so I was looking at him. “Elysa, you are the love of my life. I can’t ever see that changing.”

I searched his face, looking for any trace of doubt or hesitation, but all I saw was sincerity.

“And if you don’t believe me yet,” he continued, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, “then I guess I’ll just have to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

I bit my lower lip. “I do believe you…it’s me that I don’t…I don’t think I’m worthy.”

“Mi amore, you’re a force to be reckoned with. I’m a very lucky man to call you wife.”

I let out a soft laugh, though it was tinged withuncertainty. “That’s a big statement to make, Signor Giordano.”

“I’m a big statement kind of guy because of my big cock.” He smirked and kissed my nose.

I rolled my eyes, but the tension in me eased a little.

Dante could be infuriating, arrogant, and entirely too charming for his own good, but right now, at this moment, he was my man, and he was making me feel better. He wasn’t ridiculing my feelings or my insecurities. Instead, he was coddling me, telling me that no matter what, he was going to be there.

The sound of his stomach growling broke the moment, and I laughed, pushing myself up onto my elbows. “I think someone’s hungry.”

“I can’t help it.” He feigned exhaustion. “You wore me out.”

I smacked his shoulder, and he laughed, catching my wrist and pulling me back down. “Stay,” he insisted, his tone suddenly serious again. “Let’s just stay here for a little while longer.”

I stopped thinking. I stayed.

We made love again.

This time, it was soft and sweet. Beautiful and fun. Charming and lovely. If I hadn’t already been in love with Dante, this would have been the moment that sealed it.

TWENTY-NINE

Dante

Ididn’t tell her where we were going.

In the past, whenever we traveled, it was always for a social obligation—some event where I needed her by my side as Mrs. Giordano. To my chagrin, this was the first time we were going on vacation.

In my exciting journey of getting to know Elysa, I learned that she had never been to Tuscany but had always wanted to go. She had mentioned it in passing once, her voice wistful as she spoke about golden hills, quiet vineyards, and long afternoons tasting incredible wine.

I felt like anidiotafor not bringing her here sooner—especially when it was so close. But I was learning from my mistakes.

Elysa hadn’t grown up like I had, with the resources to travel wherever and whenever shewanted. Most of the traveling I’d done had been for work, always with a purpose, always on a schedule.

Now, I wanted to see those places through her eyes. Not for business. Not out of obligation. Just the two of us, as tourists, together.

So, when we arrived at Santa Maria Novella station, and Elysa saw that our train was bound for Florence, she turned to me with wide eyes.

“We’re going to Florence?"

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