Nico kept driving, until the bike ran out of road and instead landed on the sand. She held on tighter, but there was no cause for alarm. It was patently obvious this was a drive he’d done often before. A little way along the beach, Maddie saw a glow coming from a series of caves. She craned forward, trying to get a better look. But it wasn’t until he’d slowed the bike to a stop that she saw the caves were restaurants, dainty lights hanging from the edges, tables set up right to the edge of the cave, so that at high tide, the water must surely come close to diners’ feet.
He slowed the bike to a stop and removed his helmet. She did the same, holding it in her lap for a second, before realising he couldn’t easily get off the bike until she did. She wriggled off one side and straightened her skirt then finger combed her hair. A second later, he was standing in front of her, his eyes appraising her with undisguised interest, taking in everything from her tousled hair to pink cheeks, to a body that she was sure must show obvious signs of arousal. She couldn’t help it – desire had been stirred to life inside of her and she didn’t know how to shut that off.
“Do you like seafood?”
She bit down on her lip, trapping her smile, and nodded.
“I’m glad.” His finger lifted up and smudged her lower lip, then his hand dropped to the small of her back, guiding her away from his bike.
“Don’t you need to park that?”
“Valet will take care of it.”
She lifted her eyes heavenwards. “Right, of course.”
Ten stairs, carved from stone, led to the first cave, where a man was waiting to greet them.
“Ah, Signore Montebello, what a pleasure it is to have you back,” he spoke in Italian. Nico responded in English.
“Thanks. You’ve reserved a table?”
“Naturally, sir. This way.” He guided the way through the restaurant. Crisp, white-linen tablecloths were set with fine crystal stemware and highly-polished cutlery and at the centre of each table there was a candle, so the overall effect was that the restaurant glowed with a warm, calming gold. Beyond them, the ocean rolled, bringing towards them the fragrance of salt and the rhythm of the sea. Their table had to be beyond compare. At the furthermost point of the restaurant, it offered panoramic views and it had been set aside from the other tables sufficiently to ensure a degree of privacy during conversation.
“Can I get you a bottle of your usual, sir?”
Nico turned to Maddie. “Would you like to see the wine list?”
She was floored. It wasn’t fair to make comparisons between Nico and Michael, but at the same time, it was almost impossible not to. Where Michael had always ordered their drinks – and oftentimes their food – Nico instinctively consulted with her, asking for her preference. Maddie’s heart turned over in her chest and heady on the rush of power – which academically she knew to be normal rather than anything special, she nodded. “Please.”
A moment later, a book at least fifty pages thick was brought out. The names were all foreign to her, but she could read the euro signs well enough. The prices were exorbitant.
“I usually get the Chateaux Gaushaul,” he offered, after she’d spent a few minutes frowning at the wine list. “It’s earthy and rich without being overwhelming.”
She nodded. “That sounds…” her eyes caught the price and she jerked her gaze to his face. True, he was incredibly wealthy, but that didn’t mean she was comfortable with him ordering bottles of wine that cost more than a week’s rent. “Um, maybe just a mineral water for now.”
She caught the frown that flicked on his face and butterflies – not the good kind – spread through her belly. He was annoyed with her. Impatient.
“Sorry,” she offered. “I just didn’t want to take out a second mortgage for a drink.”
“Naturally, dinner’s on me.”
“That’s not necessary.”
At that, he laughed, just a soft sound accompanied by a small shake of his head. “You are unique, Maddie Gray, do you know that?”
She shifted her shoulders. “Why?”
“Because I invited you to dinner, I chose the restaurant, and because, frankly, I can afford to pay. Would you like a glass of the Gaushaul?”
She shook her head. “Really, I’m fine.”
He lifted his shoulders and turned his attention to the waiter. “Mineral water for two.”
“You don’t have to do that. Have whatever you usually do.”
“It’s fine.” He smiled, relaxing her immediately, so she wondered why she’d felt even a hint of anxiety. Nico wasn’t Michael. No one was. Besides, Michael was in another country, far across the ocean. He had no idea where she was. She was free.