“Your ex-wife?” I repeat. “She … she never told me she’s been married. She never told me she had a son! And she definitely said I would have the place to myself. Why on earth would she leave that out?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. But Vanni and I weren’t supposed to be home until the end of the month. Our trip got cut short.”
“Well … fuck,” I swear. I stare at the rose garden, musing over how fast things can go from feeling free on the perfect summer day, to realizing you’re intruding in someone’s actual house. “I am so sorry,” I say, looking up at him. “I had no idea.”
“I know you didn’t,” he says. “Otherwise I’m sure you would have been wearing clothes.” A small smile curves his lips.
His lips.
My god, those are some pretty lips.
“Grace, was it?” he asks. I nod. “Grace, I’m going to take our bags inside. Take your time in the pool. We’ll be in the house where we can talk about this further.”
Then he turns and walks off, disappearing around the hedge, his footsteps crunching on the gravel path.
I wait until I’m sure he’s out of sight, then I swim across the pool and quickly haul myself out of the water. I slip my bathing suit back on, which isn’t easy when you’re wet, then wrap the towel around me, taking a few moments to gain my breath, waiting for both the feeling of shock and embarrassment to fade.
Unfortunately, they don’t. I feel like hiding out by the pool forever, stewing in my thoughts.
What’s going to happen to me now? I’m going to have to leave. I can’t stay here in someone else’s house. I’m going to fucking kill Jana. How could she not tell me that her ex-husband and her son live here? Her son! You think that would have come up at some point.
Now it all makes sense. The fact that I had to be out of here by a certain date, the lack of photos of herself, which I thought was odd because her office is full of pictures of her with authors and famous people. The sculptures, the art studio, the fact that the place felt fully lived in.
How could she do this to me? The whole reason I came here was for the peace and quiet to write, not just the weather and change of scenery to provide inspiration. I get that she probably thought her ex and son were gone, but even so, that was a ballsy move.
And now her ex and son have seen my whole arse and then some. Heat flushes my cheeks and I plop down on the lawn chair, my body refusing to move. I’m mortified on every level. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to come home and find someone else living in your house. In fact, I’m surprised they’re taking my word for it and not calling the cops.
Unless that’s what Mr. Romano went in there to do.
Shit.
Guess I better head inside and put clothes on before I’m hauled off somewhere.
I gather my towel tighter around me and slowly walk around the pool and down the gravel path, my flip flops slapping noisily. I had exited from the living room doors, so I head up the nearest outdoor staircase, pausing halfway to notice a shiny black vintage Ferrari in the driveway. Damn. The man has money and taste.
I step through the glass doors to the living room and hear a commotion from upstairs, basically Vanni yelling in Italian at his father, probably about the crazy naked lady who appeared in their pool.
I need to get changed, but I also don’t feel like going up to where the both of them are, so I head over to the mantel to look at the pictures again.
Now I’m looking at everything in a new light. The little lemon boy is obviously Vanni when he was younger, the black and white photos are probably of Claudio’s family. In fact, as I look a little closer, I think I see the family resemblance. Those sexy eyebrows.
The sound of a throat clearing makes me whirl around, my fingers gripping the towel tighter.
Claudio is standing at the bottom of the stairs, another bemused smile on his face.
Damn, damn, damn. Now that we’re inside and I don’t have the sun in my eyes and I’m not naked, I can get a better look at him and he’s somehow even more stunning than