I swallow hard past the lump in my throat. “Okay. I get it.”
“I’d always be wondering,” she murmurs. “And since I don’t have a lot of experience with this kind of thing, I’m afraid I’d just mess it all up.”
“You wouldn’t—”
“I would. I’m an overthinker,” she says with a sad smile on her face. “When you asked me before if my career was worth everything I’ve given up, the answer is yes. I can’t afford to lose my focus now, worrying about my decisions, no matter how good or right they may have felt at the time.”
“So something that feels good and right…” I rake a hand through my hair, slowly getting to my feet. “Is wrong? Bad?”
“For me, for us?” She nods. “Right now? Yes.”
I suck in a breath and she holds out the jersey to me again. I reach for it, my fingers grazing hers. A jolt rocks me to my core as we connect for that last, brief moment.
Jesus Christ, whoever the hell has taken over for me needs to stand the fuck down!
“You made me realize something tonight, Antonio. I do want this,” she says, pointing back and forth between us. “All of it. But now just isn’t the right time for me. Or for us.”
I force a smile. “I meant everything I told you, Julia.” I try with all of my might to stop myself from moving closer to her, to stop my fingertips from dragging down the side of her smooth cheek, to stop my hand from cupping her chin and tilting her head upward so I can gaze into those expressive green eyes one last time. “I hope you believe it. And I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
I drop my hand and turn away from her, heading toward the exit. The blonde at the reception desk gives me a long look as I stride past her and back into the terminal.
“What? Are you waiting out here for me?” Tommy asks, walking up to the doorway to the lounge. “You’re afraid if I come inside and have a drink with your sexy violinist that I’ll charm the thong off of her and she might pick me instead, right?” Tommy snickers, giving me a punch in the shoulder.
I snort. “Hardly. Come on, let’s go.”
“I thought you were staying. I was looking forward to taking a crack at your new Testarosa, Ant! You can’t fuck around on me like that!”
“Another time,” I say in a tight voice.
“What happened? Little Miss Violinist is too much of a tight-ass for the likes of you? She didn’t offer to blow you in the corner? Wouldn’t let you pluck her strings?” Tommy doubles over with laughter as I swallow the expletives on the tip of my tongue.
Those words I spoke to Julia just minutes ago, trying to convince her I’m a good guy who wants more than just a quick lay…I’ve said them before, at least a million times to other women.
But before now, it was all bullshit. I never meant a single word.
The words served their purpose and got me what I wanted.
I guess the shoe’s on the other foot now.
And I don’t fucking like it one bit.
Chapter Three
Julia
I made the right choice.
I don’t know how much time passes as I sit and stare at the artificial ficus tree in front of me. I raise my wine glass to my lips, sip the cool liquid, and picture the pained expression on Antonio’s face just before he walked out of the lounge.
And my life.
What I said was true.
He’s not the kind of guy who’d sit around and wait for me to return from my tours.
There would be too much temptation, too many women who’d catch his eye while I was away. I’m sure of it.
I let out a frustrated sigh.
Yeah, because my dating experience is so extensive, right?
I wish I could believe that I’d be enough for him, but I saw how the women in this lounge alone eyed him up and down like predators stalking their prey. He must get that reaction from the opposite sex all the time.
How could I possibly compete with that?
The connection between us…I take another sip of wine to cool the heat swirling in my belly at the thought…it was like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
But was it real?
Would I even know?
I’ve worked so hard to achieve this level in my career. I gave up a lot, yes, but I did it for a reason.
I can’t risk it all on a guy, no matter how insanely delicious he may be.
Besides, if he knew who my father was, he’d probably stand down anyway.
I am untouchable.
And not in the good way.
But it’s the life I chose and it’s the only one I know.
I’ve never regretted my decisions.
For the first time, though, I question them.
Was this supposed to be a wake-up call for me? To give me a glimpse of what it could be like to really live and to not use my violin as a shield against the world because I’m afraid of getting hurt?
I guzzle the remaining wine in my glass and set the goblet on the table.
I lost it after thinking Antonio had ditched me, and we’d only just met.
How would I react if the circumstances were different…if I’d have given him my completely naïve heart and he cut and ran?
I’ve never lost anyone close to me, but the fear is ever-present, especially with the line of work my father is in. I know there are threats. I know the risks.
Maybe it’s why I keep my circle so small. The fewer people who get close, the less chance I have of being left behind.
Jesus, do I have issues?
I can’t lose focus now, anyway.
I’m so close to reaching all of my goals, to making my music foundation a global force, to becoming a musical icon in my field.
Yes, let’s use my goals as an excuse for turning my nose up at a chance for happiness with another person. Another sexy, seductive, and charming person who took interest in me before he even knew who I was or what I could get him.
It was a nice change.
Another reason why my circle is so damn tight.
I tap my fingertips on the side of the glass, unable to erase Antonio’s face from my mind.
His deep, soulful eyes, his mischievous smirk, his chiseled jaw, the thick hair that flopped over his right eye…
Dammit.
Did I make the right choice?
I rub my temples and my phone bleeps from the depths of my handbag.
My heart jumps, and I grab for it, silently berating myself for being so anxious. It’s not like he has the number. I casually look over at the entrance to the lounge and roll my eyes. As if I really expect Antonio to burst through the doors, fall to his knees in front of me, and profess his undying love, begging me to reconsider after we shared only a sliver of time together.
I stab the Accept button.
“Julia! Hi! Marco is on his way to the lounge to escort you to your gate, okay?”
I smile. “Thanks, Marisa. I appreciate it.” I barely thought about my concert stalker while Antonio was with me, but maybe having my own security by my side as I navigate this terminal isn’t a bad idea.
“I can’t get in touch with Pietro,” she continues. “I’ve tried every number, as well as his home, but nobody has heard from him at all. Did you hear anything?”
Marisa is a bit of an alarmist and she also answers directly to my father with regard to my security, so I really didn’t want to rehash my experience at the concert venue earlier. My dad would probably have guys combing the streets of Palermo looking for the stalker, as well as Pietro.