Chapter 6 - LINES CROSSED
The Amalfi Coast was a dream woven in brilliant blues and bright lemons. Nico's private villa was perched high above the Mediterranean Sea, a secluded paradise entirely removed from the drama of New York. For three days, we existed in a bubble of perfection. We drank wine on the terrace, swam in the infinity pool, and talked late into the night until the stars faded into the dawn.
The tension between us had been building to an unbearable pitch. The physical attraction was a living, breathing entity in the room with us, but Nico had been incredibly respectful, giving me the time and space I needed to heal from the trauma of Liam’s betrayal.
But on the fourth night, a fierce summer thunderstorm rolled in off the sea. Lightning illuminated the sky in violent flashes of violet and white, and rain lashed against the massive glass windows of the villa. I was standing in the living room, wearing a silk robe over my slip dress, watching the storm, when Nico entered the room. He had just gotten off a tense phone call with New York, his jaw tight, his eyes dark.
"Is everything okay?" I asked softly, stepping toward him.
"Valentina is trying to stage a coup with the board to reinstate Liam," he said, shaking his head. "She will fail, of course. I hold the majority shares. But the sheer audacity of her entitlement exhausts me." He looked at me, his gaze softening as he took in my appearance. "I'm sorry. I promised no business on this trip."
"You don't have to apologize to me," I said, reaching up to gently trace the tense line of his jaw. "You carry the weight of the world, Nico. Let me help you carry it."
Nico inhaled sharply, his chest expanding. He caught my hand, pressing his lips to my palm. "Luna... do you have any idea what you do to me? I have spent the last month trying to be a gentleman, trying to give you time. But standing here with you, looking at you in my home... I am rapidly losing my restraint."
"Who asked you to be restrained?" I whispered, the words tumbling out before my brain could stop them.
May you like
A flash of lightning illuminated the predatory hunger in his eyes. He didn't ask twice. Nico closed the distance between us, his hands sliding into my hair as he pulled my mouth to his. The kiss was explosive—a culmination of weeks of pent-up desire, anger, and undeniable, gravitational pull. There was nothing hesitant about it. He kissed me with the desperate fervor of a starving man, his lips hot and demanding against mine.
I melted against him, my hands gripping the broad expanse of his shoulders. He swept me up into his arms, carrying me through the darkened hallways into the master bedroom. The storm raged outside, but inside, the fire we had ignited consumed everything. There were no ghosts of the past in that bed. There was only Nico, his rough hands, his whispered praises in Italian, and the profound, earth-shattering realization that I had never truly known what love or passion was until I found myself in the arms of the Rossi patriarch.
