“Amy, it’s none of those things.” He did not want to have this conversation with her. He wanted to fold her in his arms and kiss the worry away.
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
Hell. Tony could handle a lot of things, but Amy’s tears melted his heart, and that he’d caused them was further proof he wasn’t the right guy for her.
“Then why, Tony? Just tell me once and for all. Why don’t you want me? I need to know so I can decide about taking this job in Australia.”
Tony opened his mouth to answer, but his thoughts were jumbled as he processed what she’d said. “Australia? I thought you said you weren’t taking it.”
She crossed her arms, and he hated knowing it was to protect herself from his rejection. Tony felt like an asshole, but he knew that taking Amy up on her seduction would only dredge up bad memories and lead to hurting her. They’d spent a lifetime denying the past between them existed, even to themselves.
“I said I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.” She dropped her eyes to the floor, and he slid a hand in hers, as he’d done a million times before. It was a natural reaction. Taking care of her. Protecting her. Helping her feel safe. He knew it could send her mixed messages, but he just couldn’t help himself. His hand had already claimed its spot with hers.
“You’d give up everything you’ve built to run Duke’s resort? You’d move to Australia?” He had nothing against Duke Ryder. But the idea that Amy would change her life to help him just pissed Tony off.
She sank down onto the bed and buried her face in her hands.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and when she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip and kissed the top of her head.
“Amy, you’re sexy, smart, and everything a guy could want.”
She cocked her head to the side and narrowed her damp eyes. He felt like the biggest prick on earth, and at the same time, his own heart was fighting tooth and nail against the space he was trying to maintain between them.
“Christ.” He scrubbed his hand down his face. “You are all those things, Amy, and so much more, but…”
“But you like me as a friend.”
He’d never seen so much hurt concentrated in one person’s eyes, and even if he had, it wouldn’t have compared to seeing it in Amy’s. He touched his forehead to hers, and he did the only thing he knew how to do without doing irreparable damage to their friendship.
His lie came in a whisper. “No. I love you as a friend.”
He loved Bella, Caden, and the others, goddamn it. What he felt for Amy was so much bigger than friendship, it threatened to stop his fucking heart.
She didn’t say a word, just nodded, and Tony knew in that moment that she wasn’t drunk enough to forget what he’d said by the morning—and he almost wished she were.
(End of Sneak Peek)
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Dreaming of Love
The Bradens
Love in Bloom Series
Melissa Foster
Chapter One
LUSH. VERDANT. HILLY…Amazing. Emily stood on the covered balcony of the villa where she’d rented a room just outside of Florence, Italy, overlooking rolling countryside and the spectacular city below. The sun was kissing the last light of day goodbye, leaving chilled air in its wake. She sighed at the magnificent view, wrapped her arms around her body, and gave herself a big hug. She couldn’t believe she was finally here, staying at the villa that her favorite architect, Gabriela Bocelli, built.
Gabriela Bocelli wasn’t a very well-known architect, but her designs exuded simplicity and grace, which Emily had admired ever since she’d first come across this villa during her architecture studies. That felt like a hundred years ago. She’d dreamed of visiting Tuscany throughout school, but in the years since, she’d been too busy building her architecture business, which specialized in passive-house design, to take time off. If it weren’t for one of her older brothers, she might still be back in Trusty, Colorado, dreaming of Tuscany instead of standing on this loggia, losing her breath to the hilly terrain below.
She pulled her cell phone from the back pocket of her jeans and texted Wes.
You’re the best brother EVER! So happy to be here. Thank you! Xox.
Emily had five brothers, each of whom had hounded her about her safety while she was traveling. Or really, whenever they didn’t have their eyes on her. Pierce, her eldest brother, had wanted to use his own phone plan to buy her a second cell phone with international access. Just in case. She’d put her foot down. At thirty-one years old, she could handle a ten-day trip without needing her brothers to rescue her. It wasn’t like she ever needed saving, but her brothers had a thing about scrutinizing every man who came near her. Yet another reason why she didn’t date very often.
Still, she was glad they cared, because she adored each and every one of their overprotective asses.
Adelina Ambrosi appeared at the entrance to the balcony with a slightly less energetic smile than had been present throughout the day. Adelina had run the resort villa with her husband, Marcello, for more than twenty years. She was a short, stout woman with a friendly smile, eyes as blue-gray as a winter’s storm, and wiry gray hair that was currently pinned up in a messy bun. She must have mastered the art of walking quietly to keep from disturbing the guests.
“Good evening, Emily.” Adelina brushed lint from the curtains hanging beside the glass doors. Emily was glad they loved the property as much as she did. They rented out only two rooms of the six-bedroom villa in order to always have space available for family and friends. The villa was a home to them, not just a business, as was evident in the warm guest rooms.
“Good evening, Adelina. Any news on Serafina’s husband?”
Serafina was Adelina and Marcello’s daughter, who had recently moved back home with her eight-month-old son. They’d been living in the States when her husband, Dante, a United States Marine, had gone missing in Afghanistan while out on tour almost three months ago. Adelina had told Emily that she’d begged Serafina to come home and let her take care of her and baby Luca until her husband returned—and Adelina was adamant that he would return. Emily, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so sure.
“Not yet, but I have faith.” Adelina lowered her eyes, and with a friendly nod, she disappeared down the hall in the direction of her bedroom.
Emily turned back toward the evening sky, sending a silent prayer that Serafina’s husband would return unharmed.
“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”
The rich, deep voice sent a shiver down Emily’s spine. She turned, and—holy smokes. Standing before her was more than six feet of deeply tanned, deliciously muscled male. His hair was the color of warm mocha and spilled over his eyes, hanging just an inch above the collar of his tight black T-shirt. She opened her mouth to greet him, but her mouth went dry and no words came. She reached for the stone rail of the archway she’d been gazing through and managed a smile.
His full lips quirked up, filling his deep brown eyes with amusement as he stepped closer.
“The view,” he repeated as his eyes swept over her, causing her insides to do a nervous dance. The amusement in his eyes gave way to something dark and sensual.
It had been so long since Emily had seen that look directed at her that it took her by surprise. She cleared her throat and reluctantly dragged her gaze back to the view below, which paled in comparison to the one right next to her.
Holy crap. Get a grip. It must be the Italian air or the evening sky that had her heart racing like she’d just run a marathon.
Or the fact that I haven’t had sex in…
“Awestruck. I hear Italy has that effect on people.” He leaned his forearms on the thick stone rail and bent over, clasping his large hands together.
“Yeah, right. Italy.” Emily’s eyes widened at the sarcasm in her voice. She clenched her mouth shut. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. He probably had this crazy effect on all women, and here she was gushing over him. She didn’t gush. Ever. What the hell?
He cocked his head to the side and smiled up at her. Emily saw the spark of something wicked and playful in his eyes, like he could be either in a heartbeat. A hint of danger that Emily thought maybe he knew he possessed. A low laugh rumbled from his chest as he arched a brow.
Oh God. She felt her chest and face flush with heat and crossed her arms. A barrier between them. Yes, that’s what she needed, since apparently she couldn’t control her own freaking hormones.
“I’m sorry. I just got in this evening and it was a long trip. Eye fatigue.” Eye fatigue? She held her breath, hoping he’d pretend, as she was, that that was the real reason she was ogling him.
“I just arrived myself.” He held a hand out. “Dae Bray. Nice to meet you.”
Emily felt the tension in her neck ease as he accepted her explanation. “Emily Braden. Day? That’s an interesting name.” She shook his strong, warm hand, and he held hers a beat too long, bringing that tension right back to her body—and an entirely different type of tension to her lower belly.