The Italian Read online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Angst, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
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“Yes.” I smirk as I slam the door shut. I go around and get into the driver’s seat. “I’m only going to make love to you once in the missionary position instead of fucking you six times on your knees.”

“That’s presumptuous.” She smirks as we pull out into the traffic.

I take her hand and put it on my thigh. I want her hands on me when she sits next to me… wherever she is. I have to be touching her. It’s an urge I cannot control.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“To my favorite restaurant.”

“Tell me they have pasta.”

I pick up her hand and kiss her fingertips. Her joy is contagious. “They have the best pasta in all of Italy.”

“It’s a wonder we got in on a Friday night then.”

I smile. She’s oblivious to the pull that I have. “Yes, very lucky,” I reply as I keep my eyes on the road. I glance in the rearview mirror at the security cars trailing us. There’s trouble brewing at work with threats coming in left right and center now. Security around me has never been so high. It’s not exactly the right time to start a torrid affair of the heart.

I pull into the parking lot, open her door, and we walk into the restaurant.

“Mr. Ferrara.” Mario smiles. “Come in, come in, sir.”

We weave through the tables until we get to my favorite spot. He pulls out Olivia’s chair and she takes a seat. He hands us our menus.

“We will have a Margarita and a Amaro please,” I ask.

“Of course, sir. I’ll leave you alone and come and take your food order soon.”

Olivia smiles as she looks around at the glamorous space. “Well, this is special.”

“Like you.” I kiss her hand. “What are you eating, my love?”

Her eyes linger on my face.

“What?” I ask.

“I like it when you call me your love.”

You are.

Stop it.

I open the menu to distract her. “The linguini is spectacular.”

“Hmm, all my cardio training is going down the drain tonight. Carbohydrate coma, here I come.”

“Your drinks.” Mario puts our drinks on the table. “I will give you some more time.”

Olivia holds up her margarita glass, and I clink it with mine. I smile and go back to reading the menu.

“I’ve had a good day, you know?” Olivia says.

“Why is that?”

“I went to the gym and found an apartment.”

I look up. “You found an apartment?”

“Yes, it’s lovely, and not far from my work and my gym.”

I keep reading my menu and exhale as I try to keep my cool. “I don’t know where I want you to live yet.”

She looks up, surprised by my statement. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I don’t know where I want you to live yet. I want tight security around you. I will organize something for you. I’ll look into what properties of mine are vacant first thing in the morning.”

“This is our first date, what are you talking about?” She rearranges her napkin on her lap. “I don’t want to live in one of your apartments, I’m not.”

I glare at her across the table. “Why are you so difficult?”

“Why are you so domineering?”

“It’s a safety issue, Olivia.”

She rolls her eyes. “You are overdramatic, Mr. Ferrara.”

I sip my drink as I try to reign in my temper.

She shakes her head as if shaking off her annoyance. “Anyway,” she continues. “Let’s talk about you, for once. We always talk about me. You know everything about me, and I know nothing about you.”

I feel my chest tighten and I sip my drink. “I think I’m having the linguini,” I say to change the subject. “What are you having?”

“Tell me about your work,” she asks.

“What do you want to know?”

She frowns as she thinks for a moment. “After the accident, you took over the family businesses, yes?”

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

“I became the CEO of the company, so yes. But there are many staff under me that had worked alongside my father and grandfather, and they continue to do what they did before.”

“It’s a lot of responsibility.”

“It is.”

She puts her hand under her chin and studies me. “It must be terrifying. The thought that you could fuck everything up.”

I stare at her for a moment. “You’re the first person who has ever said that to me.”

“Well, is it?”

“More than you know.”

Her eyes hold mine, and she waits for me to go on.

“The pressure of expectation is suffocating. Some days are better than others. It is what it is.”

“We could always run away,” she offers with a goofy smile.

I laugh out loud. “Don’t tempt me. The prospect of running away with you and being normal would be a dream come true.”

Her face falls. “Do you feel trapped in your life?”

“Yes,” I answer without hesitation.

“Oh.” She thinks about it for a moment. “You don’t have to do this you know?”


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