“It doesn’t matter if I did or not, Pietro,” I cut him off. “Time has passed, and like you said, you’ve moved on, and you’re about to marry my cousin.”

“You’re wrong. So very wrong, Chiara.”

He moves closer again, wrapping his arm around my waist and bringing me flush against his body. I’ve lost count of how many times I dreamed about this moment, but in none of my fantasies was disgust present, and that’s the overwhelming emotion jamming in my heart right now. I don’t melt into his embrace; I feel repulsion instead. He’s about to marry my cousin and he’s coming on to me? But I’m frozen on the spot as he caresses my cheek.

“What are you doing, Pietro?” My voice is feeble; it’s vapor.

“I want to know, Chiara.”

He brings his lips to mine, almost too forcibly. I squirm against his hold, fighting to get him off me.

“Stop!” I finally manage to shove him off, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? You are minutes away from marrying another woman, you asshole!”

“A woman who was a second choice,” he replies weakly, and I want to punch him in the throat.

Sudden fury bursts through my veins. “If you liked me so much when we were younger, you should have made your move. You choked, and now it’s too late. You’ve made your choice. And to answer your question, yes, I did have a crush on you back then, but I would never get involved with you now. Do you seriously believe I would have my cousin’s sloppy seconds?”

Pietro winces as his face turns ashen. I take that opportunity to dash out of the room, only to hit Alistair smack in his chest. He grabs my forearms, stopping me from falling on my ass.

“Whoa, easy there.” He takes a good look at my face, probably noticing I’m about to crumble. “Do you wanna get out of here?” he asks.

With trembling lips, I say, “Yes, please. Take me away.”

I forgo the Vespa this time and borrow Max’s car instead, letting Alistair drive. I can always count on my cousin to leave the spare key inside. I’ve had too much wine, and even if that wasn’t the case, I’m in no condition to drive. My mind keeps going back to the scene in Grandpa’s office. Did Pietro really kiss me? The notion is almost too far fetched to be believable. But I’m not losing my mind. He did assault me after he confessed Paola was his second choice.

I get angry all over again as my hands ball into fists on my lap. Does he think saying he’s marrying my cousin even though I was his first choice makes his decision better? Ugh, I can’t believe I wasted years of my life pining for him. I thought he was different than the other guys. I thought he had honor. I guess I didn’t know him that well, or maybe I was just projecting what I wanted to see.

Alistair hasn’t spoken much since we left the villa, but when he covers my fist with his warm hand, some of my anger dilutes a bit. I stare at our joined hands for a couple of beats before I raise my gaze to his face. He’s still looking straight ahead at the road, but he does glance at me briefly with a smile that says “I’m here for you.”

My heart beats faster. The anger dissipates completely to be replaced by a deep yearning. It’s crazy how at ease I feel in Alistair’s presence, even after his careless words hurt me more than they should have.

He continues to drive in silence through the charming countryside of the Chianti region, a magical landscape of cypress trees, vineyards, and olive groves that fails to impress me today. The picture-perfect scenery pales in comparison to the man sitting next to me.

I’ve gone back to fantasizing about him, to wanting his mouth everywhere on my body. I rub my legs together, trying to get rid of the sudden ache between them. Shit. I shouldn’t have let my mind go there, not after Alistair made it crystal clear he has no intention of sleeping with me.

He takes me to Monteriggioni, a completely walled medieval town sitting on a small natural hill. It was built in the thirteenth century by the overlords of Siena, and it attracts tourists galore in the summer. I’ve been here just once as a young child and remember being enchanted by the medieval castle.

After he parks, I turn to him. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I planned to stop here on my way back from the winery visit. I figured you wouldn’t mind accompanying me.”

“Ah, cazzo. You didn’t have the chance to meet the Della Vecchias, did you?”

“No, but it’s okay. It wasn’t a wasted trip.”

I don’t know what to make of his statement. Is he saying it wasn’t a wasted trip because he met me?

“Thank you for saving me.”

He frowns. “What happened back there? You left that room like you were running away from a ghost.”

I sink against the leather seat and face forward. “I guess I was.”

“Your cousin’s fiancé?”

I whip around to face Alistair. “How did you—Ugh, never mind. Max opened his big mouth, didn’t he?”

“He did mention something by accident.”

I stare ahead again. “I can’t believe I’ve wasted years of my life idolizing Pietro. He’s just like the other guys. A big disappointment.”

“We’re not all bad.”

Glancing at Alistair again, I find him staring at me with the most enigmatic glint in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I haven’t had the best luck with guys. I guess the problem isn’t gender specific. People are just assholes as a rule.”

“I can agree with that.”

He touches my arm and gives me a crooked smile that almost makes me melt like a popsicle under the sun. My heart gallops at a thousand miles an hour as I prepare to make a complete fool of myself. I unbuckle my seat belt, but instead of opening the door, I launch myself at him, attacking his mouth like a deranged woman. There’s only a moment of hesitation on Alistair’s part before he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me all the way across until I’m straddling his lap.

His tongue darts inside my mouth, taking complete control as he digs his fingers into my hips. In this position, my throbbing core rubs against his slacks, or better yet, his rock-hard erection. I’ve never kissed a guy with scruff before, and at first, it tickles. But soon I get used to it because what he’s doing with his tongue is already short-circuiting my brain.

I grind my pelvis against his, trying to increase the friction down below, and I end up eliciting a grunt from him. I pull away slightly to capture his lower lip between my teeth. He groans before his hands leave my hips to disappear under the skirt of my dress. His deft fingers slowly travel up my legs until they curl around the sides of my panties.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

I close my eyes and hum an affirmation. He kisses me again, slower this time. With a featherlight touch, he traces the edge of my underwear, getting closer and closer to where I so desperately need his fingers to be. He cups my pussy with his palm, and I swear to God, I almost come right then and there. I lock my hands together behind his neck and try to bring my body even closer to his. Alistair rubs my core with his palm first before he pushes my panties aside to brush his thumb against my clit.

“Oh my God. Yes.”

He chuckles against my mouth before he slides one finger down my entrance and teases the spot. “You’re so fucking wet already, Chiara.”

I rotate my hips, trying to impale myself on his finger. I won’t sit quietly here while he tortures me.

He removes his other hand from under my dress to let it travel up my side. When his fingers brush the underside of my breast, I moan against his lips again. He deepens the kiss, cupping my breast with his large hand. Even so, my girl can’t quite fit inside his palm. He squeezes it slightly through the fabric of the dress at the same time as he inserts two fingers inside me. It’s just too much stimulation going on all at once, and I can’t fight the wave of pleasure that rushes over me. If it weren’t for his mouth on mine, I would have screamed at the top of my lungs.

It’s still pretty bright outside, and anyone walking nearby could see what we’re up to, but in this moment, I don’t care. Alistair keeps fucking me with his fingers until the tremors racking my body dissipate. I’m left boneless and suddenly mortified by my actions.

He moves his hand, pulling his fingers from inside me, before putting my underwear back in place. I try to get off his lap, but he keeps me there, resting his hands on each side of my hips.

“Don’t move just yet.” His voice is thick with need.

“Sorry, you probably want to, uh, finish as well, huh?”

He stares at me and runs his left hand through my hair. “No, it’s not that at all. I just want you in my arms for a bit longer. It feels nice.”

I drop my gaze to the base of his throat, unable to withstand the intensity of his stare. “I’m sorry I jumped you, even though you said you had no intention of sleeping with me.”