at dessert.”
She’d ordered profiteroles as dessert. I’d asked for lemon tart, and we’d both wanted another round of limoncello.
As if on cue, the waiter arrived with our drinks and sweet treats. Damn, couldn’t he have taken longer? Laney chuckled, grabbing the new glass of limoncello. I grabbed the other one, and we clinked the glasses.
“To meeting new people,” she said.
“I’ll drink to that. Pity you already did the walking tours. Would’ve liked hearing your commentary along with the guide’s.”
“Isabelle was right.”
“About what?”
“Oops. Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” Her dimples were adorable, and the cute little O-shape of her mouth was arousing.
“Now I’m even more curious.”
She blushed, looking at her plate. I leaned a bit over the table, wanting to be closer. She shook her head, shrugging. “Nope. My lips are sealed.”
“Remains to be seen.”
She blushed again, this time a deeper shade of red. She watched me with a funny expression while devouring her dessert.
“If you want, I can show you a few things around this part of the city center after we leave the restaurant. The important monuments are lit up at night. Where is your hotel?”
“Around here somewhere. I only needed ten minutes on foot.”
“Let’s do it, then.” Damn, she was cute, hands pressed together in excitement, eyes wide. It took a few tries to get the waiter’s attention and ask for the bill. After paying, maneuvering our way out of the establishment was hard work. It was even more packed with people than when I’d arrived. The congested entrance was filled with diners waiting for a table. We took the stairs from the rooftop level to the ground because the building was old and had no elevator.
I walked right behind Laney, appreciating the view. Her white wraparound dress was just mouthwatering. I’d met her tonight out of politeness, because a family friend had insisted, but I’d gotten more than I bargained for. Laney glanced at me over her shoulder as we stepped out onto the street, as if assessing if I was still interested in the tour.
I was interested... but not in the tour.
Chapter Two
Laney
“Do you want a quick stroll or a longer one?” I inquired.
“You decide. I’m adaptable.”
Ah, what a dangerous thing to say. I was drunk on this city. I fell under its spell from the moment I landed. When I spotted the sycamore trees and cobblestones near my hotel, the millennium-old ruins, I fell head over heels. I’d explored every nook and cranny of Rome. Every landmark had been a delight.
I was in such a good mood, now more than ever, courtesy of this impossibly sexy man next to me. I didn’t know what his game was. Isabelle, of course, had given me plenty of info about the Winchester family, especially Cole. My friend did have a tendency to embellish things though, so I didn’t know if everything was true.
Was he really nicknamed the Charmer?
Everything from the way he smiled and acted proved that he had game, and he knew it. That jet-black hair and blue eyes combo was just gorgeous. He was wearing black jeans and a white shirt that popped against the evening darkness.
“That’s a really cool souvenir place.” I pointed to a small shop on the corner with a tiny side street.
Leather bags and hats hung on a rack next to the entrance door. Leather-bound diaries and miniature alabaster figurines of Roman gods were lit by an uninspired blue light in the display window.
“It has a mix of everything, and the prices aren’t too bad.” I loved this mix of shops in Rome. This souvenir store was right next to a fancy shop selling big Italian-brand purses, like Gucci and Valentino.
“Already bought a truckload of presents for everyone,” he said. Okay, so Isabelle had been right about the Winchesters being tight-knit.
“Ready to hear about Piazza Navona?”
“Sure.” His smile was a little taunting and far too charming for my good. I tried not to make too much eye contact as I spoke because part of that incredible sex appeal were those blue eyes.
I talked a little about the Egyptian obelisk, as well as the Baroque architecture all around us. The attractions were very well lit. Even at this hour, the piazza was chock-full of street artists painting caricatures or spraying monument renderings on metal canvas. Sellers offered everything from fake designer handbags to fluorescent gadgets they kept throwing in the air and catching.
“Ready to move to my favorite spot?” I asked.
“You’re the boss, doc.”
There he went with that gorgeous