Page 83 of When She Tempts (The Fallen)
My bikini hangs off a coat hanger.
Blistering sun streams through the window, and there wasn’t a hint of a breeze when I was in the garden. It might be the warmest day since I arrived here. Perfect for a swim.
I contemplate the bikini for a few seconds, then I grab it off the hanger. After that encounter with Giorgio, I need to cool down, and the pool is the perfect solution.
I change out of my workout clothes into the bikini and grab a silk robe to cover up for my walk over. It’s not far. There’s a side door near the living room that opens right to a short path to the pool.
No one sees me as I slip out of the house. The deck around the pool is empty as always. The only person I’ve ever seen here is Allegra when she tidies it up once a week. I drop my towel on a lounger, then feel out the water temperature by dipping my toes.
It’s nice and crisp. They must have stopped heating it.
The plants in the big pots scattered artfully around the area are blooming, the flowers attracting hummingbirds. A bee buzzes by my ear before landing on a marigold. I close my eyes and take a moment to listen to all the sounds around me, tuning in to the outside world to ground myself.
When I’m ready, I untie the belt of my robe and let it drop at my feet. I think I’ll jump. Usually, I can’t stand the shock of cold water slamming against my skin, but I’m feeling bold today.
I’m about to do it when the hairs on my nape stand straight, and I’m hit with a certainty that someone’s watching me.
I whip my head around, looking back at the castello. In the window of the second floor, the one right at the landing, stands Giorgio.
His hands are pressed against either side of the window frame, and his serious gaze is trained on me.
A shiver runs down my spine. I’d do anything to know what he’s thinking right now.
I glance down at myself, noticing the hard outline of my nipples. Is he enjoying the view? I’m not an expert, but spying on me while I’m in my bikini definitely feels like crossing a boundary.
When I look back at him again, he adjusts his stance, and it’s obvious he’s aware I’ve noticed him. And yet he doesn’t look away.
Is that all he’s ever going to be willing to give me? Heated looks from a distance?
I turn away from him and shake my head. Damn him and his boundaries. It’s not fair what he’s doing, how he’s messing with my head.
I think it’s time I give him a taste of his own medicine.
A nervous tremor works up my spine as I reach around my back to the knot of the bikini. My eyes are trained on the surface of the pool, but I’m hyper aware of Giorgio’s gaze on my skin.
My fingers tangle with the strap, and I give the end a gentle tug, feeling it unravel.
The straps fall. I lift the bikini over my head and drop it to the ground.
I’m the only one here, but the air grows as hot and dense as it would in a room full of people. My thumbs hook on the sides of my bikini bottoms, and I ignore my heart palpitations and slowly drag them down my legs until they’re pooled at my feet.
I’m tempted to look back at Giorgio one more time, curious about his reaction, but at the last moment, I chicken out. My chin hovers over my shoulder. No matter how brave I try to be, I can’t move it another inch.
With a deep breath, I turn back toward the water and take two steps until my toes curl over the edge. My pulse thunders inside my ears. I clench my fists and jump in.
It’s not like the bikini provided a ton of extra coverage, so it must be a mental thing, butGod, the water is colder than I expected. I keep my head under as I swim to the other end of the pool. To swim back, I have to turn around.
I’m breathing hard as I gather the courage to finally do it.
But when my gaze lands on the big window, Giorgio’s powerful silhouette is gone.
There’s no one there.
He…left?
Disappointment and embarrassment pass through me. I really thought I did something there, didn’t I?
I glance down through the water at my body’s distorted shape and suddenly feel exceptionally ugly. I’m not vain. I’ve never spent much time thinking about my looks or the shape of my body, but I’ve always assumed it was acceptable. My brother called me cute my whole life, which I guess doesn’t mean much. He’s my brother. He’d be an asshole to say otherwise.
