Page 98 of Sins of the Orchid
Extending his hand, he helped me put the helmet on before putting on his own. He swung his long, muscular leg over the seat and mounted the bike. He looked good. He was wearing a white t-shirt that showed off his impressive biceps and muscles outlined underneath it, a dark pair of jeans and leather boots. I loved watching his right arm, covered entirely in ink.
“Sit close to me.” He smiled wide. “I don’t want your dress flashing everyone. Only me.”
“I should have dressed appropriately,” I told him, muttering more to myself.
“But this is so much more fun,” he retorted with a smile. This Santi was so different from the man I thought I knew. He was less intense, more fun, and so damn sexy, it made me ache.
I looked down at myself. My sundress and a pair of leather sandals with crisscross straps wasn’t an outfit for a motorcycle ride. But I looked good, if nothing else. I secured my shoulder bag on my hip. It had a little bit of everything, my sunscreen, bathing suit, phone, my sunglasses, fashion magazine. Because the latter was very important.
The air between us was relaxed, unlike ever before. I wasn’t sure if it was Italy or the fact that it was just the two of us and knowledge that my family was across the ocean. There was no danger of running into them by accident. Eventually, we’d come clean. Adriano was coming in August, and I wanted to tell him in person. I’d tell my family then too, starting with Lorenzo. He was the easiest to talk to. Dad and Grandma would be the hardest, but I wanted to come clean with both of them too. Maybe I should give the news to both of them at the same time, so they could just start arguing, and I’d sneak out. Just thinking about it made my skin perspire and sent my anxiety into overdrive.
But I wouldn’t worry about that now. For right now, it was just us and I’d enjoy that to the fullest.
I sat behind him and scooted closer, wrapping my arms around his waist. He started the bike, and I felt the vibrations beneath my legs. The second we drove off, my fists tightened around him, holding on. It was my first time on a motorcycle. Adriano was very fond of them too, but I never had the urge to ride with him. He was reckless on a bike.
The idiot that rode on the back tire down the highway, being reckless… Yeah, that was Adriano. So, it was a ‘no thank you’ from me whenever he offered me a ride on his motorcycle.
After five minutes, I slowly started to relax, though my grip around Santi didn’t. He drove really well. Enough so that I lifted my face from being pressed against his back and allowed the wind to whip around my face and hair, the feeling of freedom racing through my veins. I liked being pressed tightly against him, my hands around his waist. With each mile behind us, I felt more and more relaxed.
Santi took the scenic route from his villa through small, charming towns. I hadn’t been to this part of Italy, so I eagerly soaked it all in. We rode for a while before I saw a sign for Genoa. The roads twisted and turned, the glimpses of sea in front of us and mountains behind us. It was breathtaking. The scenic route would stay with me forever.
Finally there, we stopped in one of the parking spots right in the middle of the city. Santi turned off the bike, and I got off, a wide grin on my face.
“Genoa?” I asked him, taking off the helmet.
He nodded.
“We can grab lunch, then go to the beach. Maybe some dancing.” He grinned wide, his dark hair shuffling under the wind. “The day is young.”
“I didn’t pack a dress for the evening,” I murmured with regret.
Dark amusement danced in his eyes. It was silly in the grand scheme of things, but I liked nice clothes. So sue me. I lived for fashion; it was ingrained in me. And wearing a beach dress for dancing just didn’t seem right.
“There are plenty of shops here. We’ll get you dresses.”
“The price tag will be crazy expensive,” I complained, which sounded even sillier than complaining about the dress.
A booming laugh left him, and he shook his head with disbelief. “Don’t worry. I got you covered, heiress.”
I rolled my eyes and shoved my shoulder into him. “You will have to foot the bill for everything. I didn’t bring my wallet.”
“I got you,” he drawled, pressing his lips to mine.This! This is what I want,I thought as his mouth devoured me. “I’ll always take care of you.”
We headed towards the old part of the town. Santi knew his way around and held my hand as we strolled through the city of Genoa. The smell of the sea drifted through the air, along with sounds of the waves crashing into the shore. The city buzzed with life, the sounds of the locals chattering and laughing. It always brought a smile to my face hearing the locals in their vivid and passionate conversations.
With all the time on our hands and no schedule, we strolled through the old city of Genoa for the better half of the morning. We’d been to Le Strade Nuove and the Pàlazzi dei Rolli, then to Cattedrale di San Lorenzo, Via Garibaldi. The streets were full of tourists, but nobody and nothing mattered but the man beside me. It had been, hands down, one of the best days ever so far.
We laughed, talked, and ate ice cream. Santi was the best guide. He knew a lot about this city, a result of spending time here with his mother when he was a kid. I wanted to learn everything about him.
“Ahhh,” I moaned, taking another lick of my melting strawberry flavored ice cream. “Italy has the best ice cream.”
Santi chuckled, leaning over close to me. “You better like me more than your ice cream.”
“I like you more,” I rasped softly.
He licked the corner of my lip and then locked eyes with me. “Ice cream is okay, but I know one thing that is even better.”
“What?” I whispered in a shaky breath, heat climbing up my cheeks.
