The Billionaire's Pact by Amélie S. Duncan

Author:Amélie S. Duncan [Duncan, Amélie S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amélie S. Duncan
Published: 2024-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

After only ten minutes, we were near the square. We could see the white marble leaning tower well before we parked. The summer had more tourists and crowds, as we’d suspected. My ears tuned into the multiple languages surrounding us—Italian, Japanese, Spanish, English. My head managing to translate their words delighted my senses, and I smiled.

“You have a lovely smile, Adelina,” Rocco told me. I turned my head away and walked closer to the tower.

“Climbing closed.” Of course, disappointment was universal, but that didn’t take away the excitement of being to view the marble tower of Pisa from outside. We moved around the people filming and taking selfies with friends.

“I bet every camera has that pose,” Rocco said, pointing towards the groups pretending to push the tower straight. I laughed out loud, and he placed his arm around my waist. It had come on so naturally—his affection. I didn’t move out of his hold, and instead languished in the warmth and strength of his arms. They allured me. I was smaller than him, and he practically engulfed me. My heart pumped faster and when the bare skin on his arms met mine, a tingling sensation coursed through me. I took a deep breath and inhaled his rich cologne. It was so masculine, so intoxicating. His chest expanded as if my presence relaxed him, too.

“Would you like a picture?” he asked softly. The longer I stayed in his arms, the better it felt, and I could hear my mind making excuses. Mama was rude at the party. Rocco had a right to be upset. He doesn’t know the way our family works. But then, I thought about Mama, alone in her life now. Why couldn’t he have left it alone? He didn’t just hurt her, he hurt me.

I stiffened and moved out of his grasp. “No, thanks. I’ll take some with my phone.” My hands went into my bag, and I pulled it out, snapping a few pictures of the tower.

Rocco stayed patiently next to me, and that was how we continued to the church next to it.

I could go on about the long wait to go inside the narrow structure. The beauty of the view of the medieval stone city. Even more, I could share the impressiveness of the grand cathedral with its marble mosaics, intricate etchings, and sculptures that would make a hardened heart swell in its beauty. As a painter, the frescoes and mosaics shone like sirens to my eyes. The Romanesque, Byzantine and Islamic arts I had only seen in a course or books called to me. It was difficult not to be absorbed in the vivid palette and the symmetry of the composed art before us. However, I was drawn to a man in a wheelchair. He was being wheeled down the aisle, smiling with his family. I hadn’t meant to do it, but I left Rocco’s side to follow them.

“What are you doing? You’re skipping the incredible paintings over here,” he pointed out.

My eyes darted, unfocussed.

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