Page 54 of The Wife Deception
"Do you like me?"
Nolan tilted his chin up. "And you? Do you like me?"
Nolan was great in bed. Sex with him was like fucking a god. But I knew little else about him. Nothing he deliberately showed me himself, at least. He was closed off to me. To the world. Andyet I wanted to peel off that hard shell he cocooned himself in and see what was underneath. "I want to like you," I said.
A weary smile played on his lips. "I want to like you, too." He drew me even closer. Not in a sexual way like all the other times, but almost as though he was seeking comfort. "Let's make a deal. How about we spend this weekend getting to know each other in a nonsexual way?" Then he teased, "Although sex won't be so bad if things lead up to it."
"What about your work?"
"I told you I was having a hard time working. I've called the creative director to come in my place. So basically I've got a free weekend."
28
Aire
The Duomo, though not as pretty in daylight as it was at night, was fun to visit again. Nolan and I joined a small group of tourists and toured the cathedral with them. It was a grand awe inspiring building. Our guide regaled us with the myths and legends associated with the cathedral. We reached all the building's heights, taking in the breathtaking views of the city.
"Where to next?" I asked Nolan when the tour was over. He had stayed up late last night planning today. It made me want to chuckle. He had been adamant that he was just asspontaneous as the next person, but a few hours later into the night, he was planning the next day.
"Ever seenThe Last Supper?" He got worried for a second and said, "You must have, since you're literally an artist."
I shook my head. "Never seen it before."
He beamed. "Good! Because I bribed the concierge to get us tickets yesterday. Apparently, they sell really fast."
"You managed to get us tickets so late?" A coworker of mine who visited Milan had to book her tickets before she came here because they sold out so quickly.
He shrugged. "Perks of being me, I guess."
"You mean abillionaire?"
He chuckled and took my hand in his.
The Last Supperwas beautiful to look at, albeit a little hard to take in while everyone around you was snapping a photo. I was happy to be in the presence of such a wonderful painting. My feast for the arts did not end there, however, because after that, Nolan whisked me to thePalazzo Citterio, an art gallery that was on my bucket list for a long time. There he had planned a private tour for us, since the building was closed to the public that day.Perks of being a billionaire. And I wasn't complaining. I was enjoying every minute of it.
After that, we strolled around the city like regular tourists, taking in all the sights andwonders. We did so much that by the afternoon; we were hungry and eager to take a break and eat. Nolan took me to a restaurant with tables outside along the canal. It wasn't as fancy as the last place we went to, but it was cool and had a scenic view of the city. It was comfortable, and the food was good besides it being a touristy place. Eating outside on such a sunny day felt like I was in a commune with the city.
Nolan said as he twirled pasta around his fork and absentmindedly said, "We should do more of this."
"Eat pasta?" I said, being deliberately obtuse. "Yes, I agree. But I am not sure your mother would agree."
He flicked a cherry tomato at me that landed next to my plate. "I mean all of this." He waved his fork full of pasta around before putting it into his mouth. "Do what we just did. See the city as a person visiting. Cities like this—Milan, Paris, Dubai, you name it, have always been a blur seen through office windows and business hotels. I don't think I've ever seen the real city until you."
"Are you always busy whenever you go on business trips?"
"More or less. Deals have to be signed. Things have to be agreed to in a timely fashion or the markets react terribly. But It's only until now that I realized that I don't have to be..."
I waited for him to finish the sentence, but his gaze went to a spot beyond me. I thought he was avoiding me at first until his eyes narrowed and he waved his hand at something or someone behind me. Nolan's mouth widened as I felt someone behind me approach. His face beamed, and he stood up. A man about the same age as Nolan approached us. He had about the same build, although this man was developing a slight pouch around the stomach and his jet black hair was balding in the middle.
"Luca!" Nolan got up and hugged him. I followed Nolan by standing up as well and watched as the two men tapped each other's backs. "How long has it been?" Nolan said when they broke apart.
"Ten years at least. I last saw you at Chester's wedding. How is he, by the way? Has he truly sworn off women?" His Italian accent was thick, but his English was very good.
"Well, you know the guy. Loved women then. Still loves them now."
Luca shrugged, as though that was the answer he expected to hear. "I don't know why I expected more out of the guy, to be honest. And you?" He turned to me for the first time, took my hand in his and kissed it. "If I had to guess, I would say this is the new Mrs. Hawthorne."
Nolan pulled me to his side and said, "Aelin, meet Luca, an old friend from college. Luca, this is my wife, Aelin."
