“You’re right.” Emma pushed herself off the bed. “You’re right. Why am I in my head?”
“Atta girl.”
For a brief moment, the time it took for her to walk from the room to the shower and close the door, Emma felt like a football player leaving the locker room after a pep talk. Only now, alone with her thoughts, she stared at herself in the mirror and owned her truth.
She was in her head because she really liked Giovanni D’Angelo. And even though common sense suggested she keep herself guarded, her heart was singing its own tune. The man listened when she spoke. He genuinely cared about her story . . . or so it seemed.
Hadn’t Kyle done the same thing?
Too many years had passed for her to remember every detail. But when she’d spoken to him about her dealings with her father, all of his suggestions involved the two of them getting married and proving the man wrong.
Gio had said very little about her family or her father. He’d voiced his concerns but not once suggested a single detail on how to deal with the man or the situation her father had put her in.
Emma shook off her thoughts and turned on the water to the shower.
Comparing Giovanni to Kyle was apples to oranges. The men were different in every way. And she’d married Kyle.
Giovanni could be a holiday fling with no tomorrow whatsoever.
And even though the thought of that made bile rise in her throat, she’d take that over nothing.
Get out of your head.
Emma leaned into the memory of Gio’s kiss and stepped under the hot spray of water.
Get out of your head.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Somehow Gio was expected to lie by the pool, watch Emma remove her cover-up, and not have a full-on erection for everyone else to see.
He’d seen her in the bikini before, in the store. But out here with the sun shining down and her legs spread out in front of her . . . wow.
Barbara and Carol were sitting on the steps of the pool, huge-brimmed hats covering their faces.
The other hikers were still missing, although they did say they’d be out soon.
Nicole took up the space beside Emma, her lounge chair in the full sun.
Emma spread a pool towel out on her chair before sitting. Her smile, although innocent enough, had a hint of daring behind her eyes.
“Can you bring the umbrella closer?” she asked Gio. “I burn really easy.”
“Of course.” Only now he had to stand up, semierect.
He cleared his throat and stood while adjusting his swim trunks in hopes of not being too obvious.
Nicole chuckled. “I’m going to grab a drink. Anyone want something?”
“Water is fine with me,” Emma told her.
“Same,” Gio added as he pulled the heavily weighted umbrella stand close.
“Don’t forget the suntan lotion,” Nicole said.
“Yes, Mom!” Emma teased.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
Gio looked up.
“She burns and can’t reach her back, lover boy.” Nicole bounced away from where they parked themselves in search of drinks.
“Ignore her,” Emma said once Nicole was gone.
“Lover boy?”
“She comes up with this stuff on her own.”
Gio pushed his chair a little closer to Emma’s to catch some of her shade. “I have a sister. I know all too well how much she and her girlfriends talk.”
She looked his way, pushed her sunglasses a little lower on the bridge of her nose so he could see her eyes. “In that case . . .” Emma reached for the sunscreen and handed it to him.
He did not have to be asked twice. He made a twisting motion with his index finger for her to turn around.
Instead of just presenting him with her back, she removed the glasses and lowered the lounge chair so she could lie flat on her stomach.
Gio’s eyes traced the path his hands would soon follow. Her delicate neck and slender back only covered by the thin strips of material that made up her bikini top. The way her ass tilted up and gave a ski-slope appearance before her bikini bottom covered her creamy skin.
He blew out a breath and moved to her side.
With a nudge of his hand, he encouraged her to shift over a little so he could sit on her chair with her.
“You do realize this is going to be torture,” he said softly as he filled his palm with lotion.
“Where is the fun if it wasn’t?”
He liked the playful side, even if it was at his expense.
Rubbing the lotion between his hands, he placed them on her back.
Emma reached for her hair and pulled it away from her shoulders.
She was soft, and still cool to the touch.
And damn, his hands were dark against her skin.
Gio rubbed in the lotion with light massaging strokes. Over her shoulders and up around her neck. The delicate spot where the back of her arms and shoulders met. He pushed around the bikini and trailed his fingers along her rib cage, teasing the edges of her breasts that pushed away from the material of her swimsuit.
The only indication that Gio received that she noticed where his hands were came in the way she shifted her hips, just a tinge.
With his thumbs he massaged the small of her back, added a little more lotion, and rounded her hips. “Mind if I pull this down a little? You wouldn’t want a red line right here.”
“Ahh hum,” she murmured.
The woman liked to be touched.
And he was happy to oblige.
His fingertips met the cool edge of her ass.
She squirmed again.
He looked at her face, her chin resting on the lounge chair, her eyes closed. Rose-colored lips were slightly parted and he could see how her breathing had picked up the pace.
Instead of stopping at her lower back, he picked up the lotion and drizzled it on the back of her thighs.
She buckled. “That’s cold.”
He leaned forward, his voice a whisper. “I’ll warm it up.”
Gio scooted down the lounge chair, placed both hands on her legs, and with long, even strokes, kneaded the lotion into her skin. His thumbs traced the inside of her bikini.
Damn if she didn’t rear up ever so slightly.
He was rock hard now. As long as he didn’t have to stand up, he’d be fine.
Gio took a quick glance over his shoulder to see if they were being watched.
The Golden Girls were at the far side of the pool, chatting it up.
Nicole wasn’t in sight, and no one else had come out.
He twisted enough to get the lotion down the back of her knees, her calves . . . and slowly moved back up. The softest skin sat on the inside of her thighs.
She was breathing hard now.
Unable to stop himself, Gio ran his index finger on the outside of her bikini dangerously close to where he wanted nothing more than to bury his tongue.
Emma’s fingers fisted and she let out a tiny moan.
Gio closed his eyes and gave her bottom a little squeeze before removing his hands altogether.
“That should do it.”
Her eyelids fluttered open, heat blared from her gaze. “That was almost indecent.”
Gio’s eyes drifted to his lap. “Which is why I’m going to sit right here for a few minutes.”
She twisted in the seat and pulled the back of the chair into a sitting position.
Emma reached across his body for the lotion, when she did, one of her hands rested high on his thigh.