Page 9 of Private Reserve
His mouth curves as he takes a corner. “They like you a lot, too.”
I smooth my hand over the fuchsia sundress I’m wearing and stretch out my legs, admiring my Jimmy Choos. They don’t go with the outfit, but I don’t care. I paid a shitload of money for them and planned to wear them every chance I had. Then again, maybe I’m wearing them because I know high heels are one of Gio’s fetishes.
That’s not going to make him love you again, Olivia.
“I can’t believe they bought it when you told them I came looking for you.”
“I can. They know I still care about you.”
Just not enough to plan a future.
At that painful thought, which nearly shatters my heart, I turn back to the window and take in the gorgeous countryside. I swallow the knot in my throat so I can talk with clarity. “I can see why you wanted to move back here. This place is gorgeous. And I understand the villa is important to you.” More important than me, obviously. But I don’t say that.
“Liv,” he begins, then stops abruptly.
My gaze jerks back to his.
Liv.
The shortening of my name feels like a hard slap to the face. He only ever called me Liv when we were in bed, sharing intimacies, and this marriage isn’t about love. He doesn’t want me sexually. Had made it clear he wants a wife in name only.
“What?” I finally ask.
He clenches his jaw, the muscles so tight I think they might snap. “Tell me more about this birthday present,” he says, once again redirecting the conversation.
“Well,” I begin. “Harper thought it would be fun to do something epic on each of our twenty-fifth birthdays, so we all put our names in a hat.” Gio nods as I continue with the explanation, and when I get to the part about sex, he slowly turns my way.
“You’re supposed to just sleep with some random guy?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
He shakes his head. “Jesus.”
“What?”
He frowns and says, “Nothing. We’re here.”
I follow his gaze and see the sprawling mall. The Prada and Gucci logos draw my attention. The gorgeous stone and glass building with the designer boutiques is pretty high end. I shift uneasily. Gio must pick up on it because he squeezes my hand again.
“Anything you want,” he says. “On me.”
“I just want something simple. No sense in spending a lot on a fake wedding, right?”
His nod is tight as he slides from the car and comes around my side to escort me out. I sigh at his chivalry. He’s always the gentleman when it comes to me. And while I like that outside the bedroom…inside is a very different story. My mind briefly flashes back to the two men devouring each other behind my villa, and a hot tingle spreads through my body and settles deep between my legs. I haven’t seen Mr. Hottie since that incident, and I’ve been searching high and low for the guy who wore the blue hat.
He captures my hands and weaves his fingers through mine in a familiar way. We fit together so easily, it’s hard to believe two years have passed. But they have, and this isn’t real. Heat splashes over me as we walk to the building, my shoes clicking on the sidewalk. As we approach the main entrance, the doors peel open to invite us in, and the air conditioning crashes over us like a cool wave. Delightful.
Gio guides me to the directory, looks it over, and frowns. “Where to first?” he asks, and I get it. He’s out of his element.
I smile, and for a moment think about dragging this shopping trip out, punishing him a little. Payback for leaving me? Yeah, probably. Torturous for him? Definitely. But I don’t follow through, because we’re short on time, and maybe I just can’t be that mean to the man who owns my heart.
I point to the store that carries bridal gowns. I don’t want anything fancy, and it has to fit me off the rack because we don’t have time for anything else. “Let’s go here.”
Gio maps the path and guides me through the throngs of shoppers bustling about, numerous bags in hand. We step into the store and a sales lady around my age greets us.
“Buongiorno. Good Morning,” she says in both Italian and English, probably because the store caters to locals and tourists alike. Her teeth flash in a smile as she looks me over, sizes me up.
“Good morning,” I respond.
