Until I had a clearer picture of what I was up against, however, there was nothing I could do.
I pushed thoughts of D.C. out of my mind as Stella and I walked down a winding street in Positano. It was nearing sunset, and pastels painted the sky in a soft palette of pinks, purples, and oranges.
We were in week three of our Italy trip, and we’d left the cities behind for the seaside charm of the Amalfi Coast. We’d wound our way through Salerno and Ravello and arrived in Positano yesterday. Next was Sorrento, followed by our last stop in Capri.
A smile played on my mouth as Stella tipped her head back with a dreamy expression.
She was always beautiful, but in Italy, freed from the pressures of the city and the lurking threat of her stalker, she was a different person. Happier, more playful and carefree, even compared to Hawaii.
I twined my fingers through hers when we resumed walking toward a viewpoint for sunset. I normally hated hand-holding, but I could make the occasional exception. We were on vacation, after all.
“So, does Italy live up to your expectations?” I asked.
“Nope.” An impish smile appeared at my raised brow. “It’s exceeded them. This place is…” She sighed. “Incredible. I mean, look at it.”
My smile blossomed into a grin when she released my hand and twirled. Her white dress flared around her thighs, and the setting sun gilded her skin with gold.
She looked so content and at peace I wished I could keep us here forever, ensconced in a bubble and untouched by the dangers that lurked back home.
“I’d rather look at you,” I said.
Stella stopped in front of me, breathless from her spin. Her gaze locked onto mine, and the summer air grew heavier between us, sweet with the scents of lemon verbena and sunshine.
“For someone who claims he’s not a romantic, you say the most romantic things.” She plucked a petal from a nearby flowering tree and tucked it into the pocket of my linen shirt. “I’m onto you, Christian Harper. Beneath that hard, cynical exterior…” She pressed her hand flat against my chest. “You’re a softie at heart.”
I would’ve laughed had she not been half right.
Only for you.
I lifted her hand and curled mine protectively around it.
“If you tell anyone, I’ll have to kill them.” I smiled to soften the statement, even though I wasn’t joking.
In my world, weakness was unacceptable, and she was the greatest weakness I had.
Stella gave me an exasperated look. “You always have to bring death into it.”
I laughed.
We continued walking until we reached the viewpoint. Nestled high in the hills and hidden from tourist traffic, it offered a perfect view of the pastel buildings and deep blue sea below.
Stella rested her head on my shoulder and stared dreamily at the landscape. “I’m in love with this place.”
I wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her closer. My eyes lingered on the delicate lines of her profile, tracing a path from the stray dark curls billowing around her face to the sparkle in her eyes and the curve of her lips.
I didn’t care much for art, but if I could immortalize her in that moment as a painting, I would.
The setting sun cast a gorgeous glow over the island, but I didn’t bother looking at the view. I kept my gaze on Stella.
“Me too.”
* * *
STELLA
My relationship with Christian could be measured in incremental shifts. It started with my move into the Mirage and inched forward milestone by milestone—our almost kiss, his confession, dinner with my family, Hawaii, our real kiss, and a million other moments that transformed us from strangers to something so much more.
But our time in Italy, especially after what he shared about his family, felt like more than an incremental shift.
It felt like a turning point.
Perhaps the turning point should’ve been our first time having sex or when we’d agreed to officially date, but Christian had never shared as much about himself as he had in Rome. And it hadn’t been just anything; it’d been a fundamental part of his upbringing, something that’d shaped him into who he was today.
He’d finally opened up. His past was ugly and messy, but it was real, and that was all I could ask for.
I turned my head and watched Christian adjust something on the boat’s instrument panel.
I’d seen him captain a boat before in Hawaii, but that’d been in the dark. In the sunlight, wearing nothing but black Tom Ford swim shorts and miles of bronzed skin, he looked like a Greek god come down from Mount Olympus.
“You should captain a boat more often.” I stretched, luxuriating in the sunshine. “It’s sexy.”
It was something I would’ve cringed at saying to anyone else, but I didn’t have to worry when I was with Christian. I could say anything and he wouldn’t judge or laugh at me.
His eyes glowed with amusement. “Good to know.” The rich, slightly husky timbre of his voice sent a delicious thrill down my spine.
We were currently anchored off the coast of Capri, our last stop in Italy.
There was no one around except us, a gentle breeze, and the faint scent of coconut sunscreen and salt-tinged sea air. The island’s famous Faraglioni rocks loomed in the distance like mountainous sentries emerging from the deep blue depths of the Tyrrhenian Sea, and the gentle rocking of the boat lent a dream-like quality to the scene.
In fact, the entire past month had been a dream, and I was scared I would wake up and find out it’d all been a figment of my imagination.
There was magic in reality, no matter how temporary.
“You’re overthinking again.” Christian could always tell when I spiraled down the dark paths of my mind.
“I can’t help it,” I admitted. “It’s my default setting.”
He settled beside me and wrapped a muscular arm around my waist. “What are you thinking about?”
“About how this doesn’t feel real,” I said softly. “It’s too good to be true.”
Every time something good happened to me, something terrible lurked in the wings, waiting to drag me down from my high.
My relationship with Christian had been perfect so far, but a part of me was waiting for that inevitable crash.
“It is real.” He pressed his mouth to the base of my throat. “And if it isn’t, I’ll find a way to make it real.” His kisses burned a path up my neck to my mouth. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Stella.”
My heart expanded so fast and full I thought it might explode.
“I know,” I whispered.
Christian pressed a light kiss on my mouth before he slid a hand over my hip. “Good. Now…” He hooked a finger in the string of my bikini. “Let’s quiet that overactive mind of yours, shall we?”
The air shifted. Heat drowned the soft emotion from a moment ago, and suddenly, my flushed skin had nothing to do with the sun blazing overhead.
I arched an eyebrow in an attempt to play it cool. “How do you propose we do that?”
His wicked smile curled like a sensual wisp of smoke in my stomach. “There’s plenty of rope on the boat, Butterfly.”
The suggestion throbbed with painful insistence between my thighs. He knew I liked being tied up, but…
“Here?” I squeaked.
We were in the wide-open sea. There was no one else around, but someone could come along at any moment.
“No one will see us. I promise.” Christian watched me carefully, his eyes like pools of golden-dipped amber in the sunlight. “Do you trust me?”
My pulse fluttered with nerves, but after a long, hesitant second, I nodded.
If he said no one would see us, no one would see us.