Italian Kisses: A Billionaire Love Story(34)

And I wanted to enjoy my dessert all night long, which I fully intended to do.

"Let's get out of here," I said.

We did. I couldn't resist kissing him, and he kissing me right back, along our return trip to where he'd parked the BMW.

We got closer to the Capitoline Hill and its museums, stopping at a corner to let a little red Fiat run through the intersection without so much as a perfunctory tap to the breaks, right through a stop sign.

"Awesome driving," I said.

"The camera got him," Liam said, pointing up at said camera where it stood mounted to the top of a tall poll. There was another one on the other side of the intersection to catch bad drivers coming from the opposite direction.

Cameras, I thought. I remembered our little tryst in the staircase, noticing the camera watching us there. I remembered the way Liam said he didn't have anything to hide. And I knew he didn't.

But Dr. Aretino did, I was sure of that. It was only a matter of exposing it to the right people.

"You're a genius," I said, kissing Liam when he started to try and cross the street.





Chapter 17


The following day, I took the bus back from Liam's hotel to my little flat above Mrs. Rosselini's bakery.

He'd offered me a ride back, of course, but I didn't take him up on it. Even though we were entering into Rome's rather rainy fall, the day had started off beautifully. Skies so clear and blue that you could see the moon hanging over the earth.

I thought that if Liam took me up in another hot air balloon that I'd be able to see the ancient volcano Mount Vesuvius brooding and ominous far to the south, it was so crystal clear that day.

The city looked golden and bright and somehow quaint and old fashioned in that light. I watched the sidewalks go by as the bus swayed gently beneath me, hardly even noticing the hard "padding" and the way it failed to cushion me.

I touched the thin wall of glass separating me from the golden world. Despite the apparent warmth of the sun, it was cool and smooth against my fingertips.

Though I do have to say that I had some difficulty concentrating on the present moment when the recent past had been so very pleasant.

A blush rose into my cheeks when I thought about it. I even crossed my legs and glanced around at the other passengers on the bus as though they could somehow sense my thoughts.

It took no effort at all to remember the way Liam's hands had felt on me. He'd had them on my bare waist, our bodies glistening in the dim light coming in through the cracks in the drapes.

No, it took no effort at all to recall how I'd gripped the headboard while I lifted my hips and then drove our bodies together, again and again until neither of us could take it anymore.

In fact, a warm tingle started racing up the front of my stomach at the memory.

Then there was falling asleep in his arms. I thought that I could fall asleep on a cold slab of concrete if I had his arms around me and the steady rhythm of his heart to soothe me while I rested my head on his chest.

And that those were the memories I used to strengthen my resolve when I thought about what I wanted to do that day.

Because it hadn't been the whole truth when I told Liam that I wanted to see the city in this golden morning light. I'd also wanted to steer clear of that psychic way he had with me.

He'd suss out what I meant to do, and he'd probably try and stop me. And since I knew he'd probably succeed (when didn't he?) I knew the best way to avoid that solution was to cut him from the equation.

I meant to go see Dr. Aretino at his office hours today. I wanted to give him one last chance before I put match to kindling and stopped his fire in its tracks.

Liam would tell me that it was pointless. Dr. Aretino wouldn't budge. And I had the strong inkling that he was right. But I still had to try, if only for the sake of my conscience.

Though when Liam had caught me up and gave me a long, deep kiss goodbye I thought he suspected my true reasons.

Maybe he knew it was something I had to do.

And that made me wish all this drama was all over so that I could get down to the real business of being with him. Soon, I told myself. Soon.

From there, I took a quick stop at my flat to pull on some clothes that weren't wrinkled and then it was another bus ride to the Sapienza campus.

I arrived outside Dr. Aretino's office in time to see a young woman step out. I recognized her from class. Angelina or Annalisa, I couldn't remember which. She was normally quiet in class, but when she did speak she always had something insightful to say.

And she was quite pretty. Dark hair that spilled in springy ringlets to her shoulders, doe eyes and full lips accentuating her heart-shaped face.

"Hey!" I said.

She either didn't notice me or deliberately ignored me, quickly disappearing down a bend in the hall. I frowned after her.

A pretty, young woman stepping out of Dr. Aretino's office with a troubled look on her face? It wasn't hard to see the good professor's modus operandi.

I wanted to go back, then. Maybe spend the rest of the day with Liam. I could hear Dr. Aretino rustling papers on his desk, hear the squeak of his office chair as he rotated it.

Just clear your conscience, at least, I thought.

So for once I swallowed my fear and knocked on his partially closed door. Angelina (Annalisa?) had swung it most of the way shut on her way out.

"Ci?" Dr. Aretino said from within.

"It's me, Emma," I said.

"Emma? Come, come. Yes, come in," he said, standing up and then opening the door the rest of the way. He waved me to the padded chair in front of his desk and then sat in his on the other side.

The back wall of his office was a large window that looked out across a quad lined with trees. It was a spacious room, not like the janitor's closets-turned-offices of professors I'd had back in the States.

Bookcases lined both side walls, filled mostly with volumes on European art of the last 700 years or so. On his desk he had a plaque with his name on it, a slim computer monitor and keyboard, and a golden miniature of Atlas shrugging beneath the weight of a wireframe world.

And a picture frame, facing away from me. I suddenly wanted to know whose picture sat in that frame.

Dr. Aretino put his elbows on his desktop and clapped his hands together, the tips of his fingers tapping against each other. "What is it I can do for you, Ragazza D'oro? You look quite concerned. Have you perhaps come to realize the truth?"

I shifted in my seat, instinctively crossing my thighs. This close to him, I could smell the pungent oil he used to keep his thin, dark hair slicked back from his forehead. The glare from the fluorescent tubes in the ceiling dazzled on that shiny expanse of skin over his eyes.

"Dr. Aretino, I'm not changing my answer. I know that for a while, I let my schoolwork slip. I was dealing with some personal things. You must have seen how much I've improved over the past couple weeks alone?"

"Oh, yes, a great deal of improvement," he said.

"Then maybe you can do the right thing and give me the marks we both know I deserve."

Dr. Aretino shook his head, that splotch of light on his forehead shifting back and forth. "Such a pity that you are not willing to do what needs to be done to stay. And just as you are beginning to come into your own here in Rome. Exams are coming soon. I'm sure if you got the chance to take them, you would do quite well. A pity," he said, tsk-ing and clicking his tongue.

"You're going to force me to take matters into my own hands, professor," I said.

A shot of cold fear ran through me when I said that. I could hardly believe that I'd been able to get the words out.

The fear was there, but something else, too. Excitement, exhilaration. Was this how it always felt to stand up for yourself?

I could get used to that.

"I invite you to try," Dr. Aretino said. He waved at the walls, indicating the university as a whole, indicating that he had the faculty on his side. Indicating that he saw nothing I could do against him.

"So you're not going to change your mind?" I said. I wanted this absolutely clear. I couldn't go through with anything without that clarity.

That was why Liam hadn't tried to keep me from this, I knew.

He spread his fingers out and looked at me with the corners of his mouth downturned, as though his hands were tied.

My skin crawled. I'd heard people use that expression before, but never really understood what they meant. Then I did. It had me squirming, had me wanting to run out like Annalisa (Angelina?) had done only a few minutes earlier.

I made myself stay. If you want to catch a rat in a trap, you had to bait it, after all.

"I heard that there's another fundraiser coming up," I said. Did that sound casual enough? I hoped so.

Dr. Aretino smiled, and I realized that he must think that I'd finally begun to bend, finally seen the futility of my resistance. Yes, I definitely needed to see Liam after this. I'd have him wrap his arms around me and hold me until I forgot all about the good professor.

"Yes, there is," he said, "I had almost forgotten about it," Sure you did. He continued, "Perhaps you would allow me to escort you there?"

I made as good a show of it as I could, letting my eyes run across his desk, working my jaw, ending it all with a reluctant sigh, "Yes." Who knew that it could be so difficult to get a single syllable out?

Think of Liam. Think of talking to him. Think of looking into his eyes, I kept repeating.

"Good. Very good," he said, clapping his palms together, "You won't need your dance instructor this time, either. I will email you the details. Is there anything else?"