hot. “Perfetto. Tell me, do you have a dress with thin straps, something not so stiff, but loose, with lots of movement, something that drapes nice? Any color will do.”
I nod. “I know just the one.”
“I thought you would. Good. Now, perhaps after dinner you could put it on and meet me in the studio. I thought I would give you warning so that you can get your work in for the day.”
I almost laugh. Work? There will be no work today, especially not now when I know I’m going to be a model for his art.
“Oh, and if you can go without a bra, that would be great.”
I cock my head. “You pervert.”
He shrugs, the roses bobbing. “Yes, it’s true I am. But in terms of the art, it is much better.”
“Right,” I say slowly.
Then he turns around and starts snipping away at more of the roses, the bundle in his arms growing. Something tells me that I’ll be seeing those roses later.
Of course, now that there’s something I’m anxious about, time flies. Before long it’s dinnertime, and the three of us enjoy a caprese salad and bruschetta. I drink more wine than I normally do, trying to drown my nerves which are growing tighter by the minute.
Finally, when it’s over, I exchange a knowing glance with Claudio and head up to my room. With shaking fingers, I flick through the dresses hanging in the small wardrobe, looking for the right one.
I find it. I pull it out and hold it up to myself. It’s a Zimmerman that I splurged on last year but never had the chance to wear, though it’s absolutely perfect for Italy. It’s linen, hits mid-calf, with white and yellow stripes, and ruffles across it. There’s a tie that goes around the waist, or you can let it fall freely. I think this is exactly what Claudio is asking for.
You know he’s also asking for you?
I get undressed, glance at my body in the mirror, and refuse to dwell on the imperfections. Besides, I don’t have to get naked for the sculpture. Since I’m not supposed to wear a bra, I forgo my knickers as well. Then I slip the dress on, tying it loosely around the waist to give it some shape. If he wants to untie it, he can.
I practically squirm at the thought of him untying me like a ribbon on a present. This isn’t going to be easy, is it?
I head down the stairs, my pulse beating against my wrist, passing Vanni in the living room, listening to something on his iPad with his headphones on. He doesn’t even look at me.
Then I’m at the bottom floor.
The door to Claudio’s studio is open, music softly blaring.
“Mystify” by INXS. No surprise there.
I step through the doorway, overtaken by how hot it is, and the sweet tea scent of the roses, which are bundled in a beautiful pile on the table.
Claudio is in the corner, trying to set up a fan.
When he sees me, he stops what he’s doing and stares.
Doesn’t say anything.
I feel like I’m on display, being judged. I hold out my arms, jutting out my hip as if to say, Ta-da.
“Does this work?” I ask, feeling more anxious by the minute.
He nods quickly. I can’t tell if it’s desire in his eyes or awe. Maybe it’s both. Either way, he doesn’t look disappointed.
He straightens up and walks toward me, stopping close. His eyes flit from my face, down to my shoulders, to my breasts, then the rest of the dress. “Mmmm,” he says, pressing his lips together. “Sì, sì. This will do.”
His gaze comes up to meet mine, eyes holding me in place. “You are too much for this world, I think.”
I look away, feeling embarrassed.
“Once again,” he says, reaching out and placing his fingers under my chin, raising it so I meet his eyes, “you must learn to take the compliments. I won’t stop giving them to you. I’ll do it until you believe me, and then I’ll do it some more. Capisci?”
I nod against his hand.
He slips it behind my neck, expression serious. Wraps my hair around his fingers and holds it up. “I can’t tell if I want your hair down or not. I’m afraid I’ll lose the lines of your neck if I don’t. You have an incredibly sexy neck. Have I ever told you that?”
I’m silent. Manage to shake my head.
“I’m surprised I didn’t have a taste last night,” he says roughly, leaning in close