“Who is she?” I asked.
Andre asked the older gentleman, who was sitting, drawing the young girl’s lips using a ruby red chalk. The man looked up at Andre and me, sadness in his eyes. His rapid response in Italian caught me off-guard. His words were pure passion. Andre nodded.
“What did he say?” I asked, almost holding my breath in anticipation. I wasn’t sure why my heart felt so heavy. It was as if I felt the same thing as this elderly artist felt.
Andre smiled weakly. “He said she is the love of his life. He left for the war and, when he returned, she was nowhere to be found. He’s been drawing her picture all over Florence, hoping she will return to him.”
I sucked in a breath.
Cale.
I wanted to fall to my knees, take the man’s hands in mine and tell him I knew how his heart felt. Tears welled in my eyes as I looked away from him.
“So sad,” I whispered as Andre placed his hand on the small of back and led me on, silent again.
Church bells began ringing and my heart soared as I saw a young couple snuggle up in a horse-drawn carriage pulling away from the church. She was dressed in a beautiful white gown, he in a black tux. The love pouring off of each other was almost tangible.
The aroma of the food from the surrounding restaurants filled my senses and, for some reason, I was longing for home.
“Ciao, Bella,”
I pulled my eyes from the young couple to see Andre’s mother standing in front of us. She placed her hands on the sides of my face and pulled me in for a kiss on my right cheek, then my left.
“Ciao,” I said as I smiled at her.
She looked at Andre. “Are we ready to head to the vigneto, Andre?”
Andre pulled me close to him and nodded his head. “Yes, Mamma.”
Andre’s grandparents owned a vineyard in the hills of Tuscany, and his mother couldn’t wait to get there. Andre had insisted we stay in Florence for one night before heading out to the country. Andre’s mother had been upset that we’d stayed in Florence, in a hotel room together, alone. She had moved to America as a young girl, but still held onto the old-fashioned ways of her Italian family.
A few hours later, we were making our way down a long driveway. Either side of the driveway was flanked by nothing but vineyards. The driver parked in the front of a massive, beautiful home. I was walking up granite stairs to a house that would turn my mother green with envy. The front doors were large and wooden. They looked like you would need five men to push them open.
“Oh my,” I whispered.
Andre chuckled. “It’s just a house, Maddison.”
I turned and looked at him. Andre had more money than he had sense. He showered me with gifts, which made my mother fall in love with him immediately. Of course, my father didn’t trust him, and I struggled with my feelings as well. I wasn’t a girl who needed to be bought, and it bothered me that Andre thought I was.
The wooden doors opened just as we reached the top step. Andre’s mother pushed past us, practically running into the house. As I stepped into the foyer, the sounds of my heels walking on the marble floors echoed across the large entryway. A grand staircase stood in front of me and I gasped at the size of the place.
“Andre, as much as I disagree with your…ways, I’ve arranged for you and Maddison to stay in the west wing. Your grandparents won’t be back from Paris until tomorrow. I have you set up in two adjoining rooms, but, as far as they are concerned, you are behaving like a gentleman.” She turned and shot me a distrusting look. “And a lady.”
Andre threw his head back in laughter as my eyes widened in disbelief. “Yes, Mamma. When they return, I promise to keep my hands to myself. Come, Bella. Let’s play before we are thrown back to the old days when men respected a woman’s virtue.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me along the long, massive hallway. When he pushed open the doors to one of the bedrooms, I gasped yet again. The massive headboard was leather, and the room dwarfed the giant, king-size bed. There was also a desk, two dressers, a wardrobe and a lounge chair.
The doors shut and Andre took me in his arms and spun me around.
“Fucking hell, your scent has been driving me mad all day.”
He began to undress as I stood there and smiled. I truly enjoyed being with Andre. He took care of my needs and gave me anything I asked for. He was an okay lover, always putting me first—but he lacked something I couldn’t put my finger on.
“We’re taking a bath, Bella,” he whispered as he reached behind me and unzipped my dress. The fabric pooled at my feet and I stood before him dressed only in a cream-colored lace bra and matching panties.
I felt the tightness in my core as his eyes raked over my body. “You’re perfect. Your curves could drive a man insane.”
I smiled and looked away, my cheeks burning from embarrassment. The last time I’d seen Zoey, she’d made sure to tell me I was at least ten pounds overweight.
Andre took my hand and led me into the massive bathroom. The shower was in the middle of the bathroom and wide open. To the right was a smaller room that held the toilet and bidet. To my left was a giant spa-style tub. I moaned ever so slightly as I thought about soaking in a hot bath.
Andre dropped my hand and walked over to the tub, turned it on, and adjusted the water temperature. I stayed silent. I wasn’t sure how I felt about doing this with Andre’s mother in the house. She could walk in any time she wanted to.
“Andre, your mother?”
He smiled. “Is a pain in my ass. She won’t be bothering us, Bella. I promise.”
He approached me and placed his hands on my shoulders, turning me around. He unhooked my bra, letting it fall. As he reached around me, he cupped both of my breasts and moaned as I arched my head back and rested it on his chest. He ran his hands all over my body before he moved them down to my panties. He slid my panties off as he placed soft kisses along my body. There was no doubt that Andre knew how to turn me on.
“Turn around, Bella.”
I turned as he crouched down and pushed his face into my folds as he threw my leg over his shoulder. I closed my eyes and leaned against the tub, trying to enjoy the feel of Andre’s tongue as it dipped into me. I opened my eyes and watched him.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I have the urge to tell him to stop?
Andre pulled away and stood up. He helped me into the tub and sat across from me, positioning my legs to where I was spread wide open to him.
“Your pussy is my one of my favorite things to look at on your body. I want to bury myself so deep inside you that you forget everything but us.”