As I look around, I notice there are two lone security guards standing at the opposite side of the hall. There are no tourists. The hall remained empty with just us in attendance.
How did I not notice this before?!
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“They know to stay away,” Lorenzo says.
“What did you do?” I ask.
“It’s amazing what the right number of connections and Euros will do,” he says.
“You did this?”
“It’s not for very long, but I wanted to see the look on your face as you saw this for the first time. I wanted you to see it alone.”
I gave him a soft appreciating smile. His thumb still grazing across my cheek.
“Grazi,” I say.
He pulled his hands away from cheeks and entangled his fingers with mine. I looked around at all the paintings, studying each one with a careful eye.
“In my Nonna’s journal, she said that one of their dates before she found out she was pregnant with my mom, my Nonno swept her off of her feet by bringing her here one night. No one knew. She couldn’t get inside because it was past closing, but it was just something they shared.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“They were perfect,” I whisper.
“You miss them,” he says, not a question.
“More than anything,” I agree.
After 2.5 hours of walking the Uffizi, I believe I saw every painting and statue. As we walked into the courtyard, I was overwhelmed with the sudden onslaught of people around us. The white marble columns surrounding the square, expertly put in place, and intrinsically designed by Cosimo de Medici, the first Duke of Tuscany.
“I can’t believe it.”
“It is refreshing seeing it with you.”
“I am here and seeing it with my eyes is something completely different. I yearned for years to picture Italy the way my grandparents did.”
“I hope you learn what you want to about them,” he says.
“I can’t help but feel that there is some deep dark secret about my family that they tried to keep buried for so many years. I am afraid what I might come up with.”
My phone suddenly rings with an obnoxious ringtone, and I pull my phone out of my purse with a hurried pace. I fully expect to see my father’s face on the phone, instead I see a photo of myself with Finn.
Finn. Shit.
I immediately reject the phone call and shove my phone deep inside my purse again.
“Ex?” Lorenzo asks.
“No, I met him in Dublin,” I say numbly.
“Your passport,” he replies.
I try to distance myself from the situation. Desperate to shift the attention off Finn’s phone call. I stop mid-step at the white marbled statue in front me. I have seen so many photographs and movies of this sculpture, but it pales in comparison to seeing the sheer size of his likeness.
Dante Alighieri.
“Dante,” I whisper.
Strong hands wrap around my lower waist as a gasp escapes my lips. His strong grip pulls me firmly against him. His muscled chest against my back. His warm breath grazing down my neck before placing a soft kiss at the start of shoulder blade. I can’t help but close my eyes and turn my face down into his kiss.
“You are a fan of Dante?” Lorenzo asks.
“Of course. Gabriel’s Inferno is an amazing book,” I whisper.
“A woman after my own heart,” he says.
His hand grasping a fistful of hair, twisting curls in between his fingers. He groans against my skin. I struggled to react let alone think clearly with this man so close to me.
Fuck he smells good.
“Enzo,” I breathe.
“You are intoxicating,” he says.
His teeth grazed against my skin, gently biting against my shoulder. His palm reaches down and cups my ass with a firm grasp. I gasp as my eyes fly open in shock. My eyes scanning the large crowd of people around us taking photographs.
“You can’t,” I say.
“People are too into themselves to notice what we do,” Lorenzo breathes.
I looked around to see everyone carrying their own conversations with each other. Too busy with their own lives to notice the utter grip this man has on my ass cheek under my dress. He pulls me against him sharply causing a sigh to escape from my lips.
“Look straight ahead. Don’t make a sound.”
“That will be fucking impossible the way you touch me.”
“Tell me about Dante, princessa,” he says, gently biting on my shoulder once more.
“Fuck.”
I follow his eyes downwards, taking in the skin shown at the top of my dress. His eyes linger on my cleavage, as his tongue grazes across his teeth before biting his lip. I have to take a deep, slow breath to control my breathing when his eyes meet mine. Every muscle inside of me tenses with a feeling of anticipation. He takes his index finger near his lips, wetting it with his saliva. He gives my hip a firm squeeze with his hand before he leans down to whisper roughly in my ear.
“Dante,” he whispers.
Fuck.
He ran his finger teasingly down my slit. Rubbing as much saliva as he can from his finger. I spread my legs wider to allow his fingers inside me. I feel his two rough calloused fingers inside from behind. I gasped in shock and surprise.
Couples standing around us. Families walking around with maps. Fuck this was hot.
I clench my thighs around his hand. I shift my hips forward, begging him with my body to give me more. Everything about him grew more intense. His forearm gripped around my chest to hold me closer to him in an effort to stop me from moving. All it did was make me writhe my ass against the rock-hard bulge in his jeans. The steel rings around his fingers graze against my slit teasing me.
“No panties.”
“Pointless around you, Enzo,” I whisper.
“Good fucking girl,” he growls deeply.