Baby, it’s cold outside, so stay warm with three sexy and sizzling-hot holiday stories…

Tuscan Nights by Farrah Rochon

It’s not the breathtaking scenery that brings Aiden Williams to Italy for Christmas—it’s gorgeous pastry chef Nyla Thompson. Three years ago Aiden’s older brother was fool enough to let Nyla go. Now a mature and sexy Aiden is determined to turn their Italian fling into everlasting amore….

Christmas Tango by Terra Little

Professional dancer Wendy Kincaid thinks she knows her best friend, Frazier Abernathy, inside out. But he’s got a season of surprises in store for the woman he’s always desired, leading to a sensual rendezvous, where he’ll raise the stakes in an all-out merry seduction….

Tied Up in Tinsel by Velvet Carter

Entertainment agent Landis Keates is stunned to learn that his old college classmate is now an international singing sensation! Back then, he was too clueless to notice Brooke Lynn Samuels. Now a friend’s winter wedding in picturesque Bridgehampton is the perfect backdrop to a very intimate Yuletide reunion….

Hot Christmas Nights

Tuscan Nights

Farrah Rochon

Christmas Tango

Terra Little

Tied Up in Tinsel

Velvet Carter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Title Page

Tuscan Nights

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Epilogue

Christmas Tango

Dedication

Opening Act

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Intermission

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

The Finale

Chapter 7

Encore

Chapter 8

Tied Up in Tinsel

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Copyright

Tuscan Nights

Farrah Rochon

Dedicated to my sister-in-law, Ayeshia Roybiskie.

I love having you as a sister.

And over all these virtues put on love,

which binds them all together in perfect unity.

—Colossians 3:14

Chapter 1

Aiden Williams buried his chin deeper into his wool scarf as he shifted from one foot to the other on the cobblestones in front of Forno Leoncini. Cursing himself for leaving his gloves in the car, he blew into his cupped hands before shoving them into the pockets of his corduroys.

What had previously been a light snowfall had gained strength over the past few minutes, the thick flakes swirling around him as the wind kicked up. He knew he couldn’t stand out here forever, but he wasn’t ready to make his presence known. Not yet.

Despite the cold, his skin grew hot as he peered through the bakery’s garland-framed windowpane. His eyes focused on the woman standing before a rectangular stone table, her flour-covered fist punching a ball of dough. The last time he’d seen her in the flesh, she was standing in a church vestibule, wearing a wedding gown, preparing to marry his older brother, Cameron.

Three years later, Aiden was still conflicted over how he felt about Cameron being a no-show for his own wedding. On the one hand, he was grateful he had not been forced to endure years of seeing Nyla and his brother living as man and wife. Aiden doubted he would have been able to stomach it, knowing that she was only pretending.

Yet Cameron’s decision to stand her up at the altar had been the catalyst that prompted Nyla’s hasty move to Europe. She’d left Atlanta a week after the aborted nuptials and had not been back since.

But here she was, a mere twenty feet away. And she was as sexy as ever. More gorgeous than he remembered, if that was even possible.

Aiden turned up his coat collar as the snow began to fall in earnest. Uncertainty, entwined with a heavy dose of nervousness, kept him rooted where he stood, just outside the warm glow cast by the bakery’s interior lights. He was unsure how Nyla would react to him tracking her down to this small town tucked away in the hills of the Siena region in Tuscany.

He’d debated the entire drive here whether to contact her but decided against giving Nyla any notice. Aiden was convinced she’d make an excuse for why he shouldn’t come, just as she had done the previous three times he’d suggested they meet in the month since he’d been in Zurich, Switzerland, consulting on an IT project for a worldwide banking giant—a job he only accepted because it brought him to Europe.

No, he wasn’t giving her a chance to back out this time. He’d come too far to find her—he’d crossed a damn ocean.

Yet Aiden still couldn’t bring himself to take these last few steps. Because worse than having Nyla make excuses about why she couldn’t see him would be to have her flat-out reject him to his face.

His gut clenched with a sharp ache. Nyla wouldn’t do that.

Even though she had.

Aiden mentally blocked the words she’d spoken the last time he saw her face-to-face, as he had more times than he could count over the past three years. He never believed them anyway. Guilt and fear had forced her to say the things she’d said that day. He knew what was in Nyla’s heart.

Which was why, when she mentioned on Facebook that she would be spending Christmas alone, he canceled his nonstop flight to Atlanta and rented a car instead. He’d made the six-and-a-half-hour drive from Zurich to San Gimignano, Italy, in just under eight hours. If not for the snow, which he’d never driven in before, and the road signs written in a language he didn’t understand, he would have been here much sooner.

Once he’d made the decision to finally go to her, Aiden couldn’t get here fast enough. Now he just needed to take this final step.

Not yet.

His eyes remained focused on Nyla as she labored over the dough, punching it down, flipping it over and reshaping it. Memories of the countless hours he’d spent perched on the kitchen counter at his parents’ home, or—later, as they became closer—at Nyla’s house in Kirkwood, watching her do this very same thing, had his chest tightening with a mercifully sweet ache.

His favorite fantasy of all time was imagining Nyla coming to him, sweaty from the kitchen heat, with that sexy smile that used to curve up the corner of her mouth. She would crook her finger and he would obey. He would take her then and there, on the kitchen table, up against the counter. Anywhere he damn well pleased.

Aiden shut his eyes against the onslaught of wanting that crashed through him.

Why had he let her pretend that the attraction between them was one-sided? Why had he let her get away without fighting for her?

None of that mattered anymore. She was here now, and Aiden wasn’t letting her get away.

He straightened his spine.

He hadn’t come all this way to stare at Nyla through a window. He’d come with one goal in mind, to convince her that he was the Williams brother she should have been with all along.

“You can do this,” he whispered.

He had to do this. He was tired of living without her.

Aiden sucked in a deep breath of the frigid air, opened the bakery’s front door and walked inside.

* * *

Nyla Thompson held the crayon drawing she’d received in the mail yesterday close to her face while she held her phone out in front of her with the other hand.

“I love the Christmas card you made for me, Angelique. It’s the most beautiful drawing I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” she told her niece through her phone’s web-chat app.

“It’s me, Mommy, Daddy, Landon and the Christmas tree,” the four-year-old said. “Jack is behind me,” she tacked on, referring to the old beagle Nyla’s sister Rae had owned long before she became a wife and the mother of two.

“Your aunt Nyla needs to get back to work,” Nyla heard just before Rae came back into view. Her sister took the electronic tablet from her daughter and smiled at Nyla. “I don’t want to keep you too long, but she demanded to talk to you before we left for the cabin,” Rae said. “She was so afraid her Christmas card wouldn’t arrive before Christmas.”

Nyla’s heart melted. “She’s such a sweetie. You have to bring both her and Landon the next time you come here.”

“A four-year-old and a two-year-old on a nine-hour flight across the Atlantic? You must be delusional,” Rae said. “I think it’s high time you made it back to Atlanta for a visit. Patrick and Lana will soon have another niece for you to meet. I’m hoping for a New Year’s Day baby.”

Their brother’s wife was due with their first child in just a matter of days. The desire to be there to welcome her newest niece into the world was so overwhelming that Nyla had seriously contemplated doing something she had not done in almost three years—return to the United States.

“I’ll think about it,” Nyla said.

The sarcastic look on her sister’s face spoke volumes. “Sure you will,” Rae said. “We have to get on the road, so I’ll talk to you later.”

“Drive safely,” Nyla said. “And tell everyone I said hello when you get to the cabin. I’ll call you all Christmas morning.”

“Make sure it’s Christmas morning our time, not yours.”

“Yes, I know,” Nyla said with a laugh. She waved goodbye to her sister and ended the face-to-face Web chat.

Pocketing her phone, Nyla pushed back at the wave of melancholy that threatened to wash over her. She had become an expert at battling homesickness, but it was always worse during the holidays. That was the one time of the year that her scattered family came together. The tradition had started when they were kids, when her parents would take them to a cabin in the Smoky Mountains to enjoy the holiday. For the third year in a row, she was missing it.

She thought about the legal pad sitting next to her computer, upstairs in the apartment over the bakery that she sublet from Murano Leoncini, the bakery owner’s eldest son. The pad had a list of properties that could possibly house a high-end bakery. She’d started her search for available retail space in the Atlanta area the same day Murano emailed to say that he planned to return to San Gimignano and finally fulfill his father’s dream for him to take over the family business.

Maybe it was time she started thinking about her dreams again. But was she ready to take that next step? To go back home to Atlanta?

Dread coiled within her belly just at the thought.

“Stop it.” She punched the bread dough with more force than it warranted before flipping it over and kneading it. She worked the dough for another minute, then transferred it to a bowl.

The bell above the bakery’s front entrance clanged.

“Dammit,” Nyla whispered. She’d been meaning to turn the sign to closed for the past twenty minutes.

“Solo un minuto,” she called. She draped a moistened linen cloth over the bowl of dough and set it on the ledge of the wood-fired stone oven so the heat could help the dough rise. Wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist, she walked over to the old CD player boom box Guido Leoncini kept in the kitchen and turned the volume down on her favorite holiday album, A Motown Christmas. Then she walked over to the retail area of Leoncini’s.

“Posso aiutarlo?” she asked the gentleman who stood with his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the few loaves that remained on the shelves that lined the bakery’s right wall.

He turned and Nyla gasped.

“Aiden?”

She tried to close her mouth, but her slacked jaw wouldn’t cooperate. It was as if the pathway between her brain and the rest of her body was blocked, because despite telling herself to move, or at least say something else, for God’s sake, all she could do was openly stare.

An apprehensive smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she replied.

Hey? After three years, that’s all two highly intelligent people could come up with? The absurdity of it nearly drew a hysterical laugh from her, or maybe it was just anxiety over the fact that he was actually standing here in front of her.

“You’re here,” she said, shifting from one foot to the other. She folded her arms over her chest and then quickly dropped her hands to her sides. Her nerves were so jumbled she didn’t know what to do with herself. “What are you doing here?”

With that trace of nervousness still evident in his eyes, he lifted one shoulder in an easy shrug. “I asked a couple of people on the street where I could find a good loaf of bread. Everyone pointed me to this place.”

A sharp, shocked laugh shot out of Nyla’s mouth, and, just like that, the trepidation that had caused her muscles to tense upon seeing him began to ease.

“I see your sense of humor is as healthy as ever,” Nyla said.

“You always said it was my best asset.”

She nodded. It was. Though he rarely let others see it. It was when he’d gradually started to reveal that side of himself to her that Nyla realized he saw her differently, as someone he could trust enough to share the real Aiden with. Her downfall had come when she began to reciprocate those feelings.

“So?” He tilted his head to the side and rubbed his jaw. “Do I at least get a hug?”

She hesitated for the briefest second before she closed the short distance between them and wrapped her arms around the man who, in what seemed like a lifetime ago, nearly became her brother-in-law.

If only he had not started to become so much more...

Nyla quickly released him and took a step back. She struggled to maintain her composure under his direct gaze, her hand self-consciously brushing a wayward strand of hair off her forehead.

“So, really, what are you doing here? Didn’t you mention that you were going back home for the holidays?”

A knowing grin eased up the corner of his lips. “So you do check out my Facebook page more often than you’ve been letting on.”

She cursed the heat that instantly rushed to her cheeks.

“Occasionally,” she admitted. “How else am I supposed to keep up with your asinine Doctor Who commentary?”

His smile broadened and Nyla’s lungs suddenly had the hardest time functioning. That smile had come to mean so much to her in such a short amount of time. And she’d missed it. She’d missed it so much more than she’d allowed herself to admit.

“I considered going home,” he said. “But I decided it didn’t make much sense to fly all the way to Atlanta when I have to be back in Zurich just after New Year’s Day. I figured I’d take these few days off to see a bit more of the continent.” His shrug was casual, but his deep brown eyes held a hint of uncertainty. “Is it okay that I’m here?”

Nyla considered his inquiry for a moment. He’d contacted her on several occasions over the past few weeks, asking if she would be willing to meet with him. She’d given the idea lip service, even going so far as to suggest lunch at her favorite café in Milan, halfway between Zurich and San Gimignano. But she’d already had excuses waiting in the wings for if and when he ever brought it up again.

There were no excuses to buy her any more time. Aiden was here.

“Of course it’s okay that you came,” Nyla finally said.

But even as the words left her mouth, a prickle of unease traveled along her nerve endings.

Since fleeing Atlanta three years ago she had worked to maintain a certain distance from anything that reminded her of the single most painful part of her past. Other than Rae, who had visited once since Nyla moved to Europe, she had not been near anyone else who had witnessed the humiliation she’d suffered on what should have been the happiest day of her life, her wedding day.

Her stomach clutched with the pain that never failed to strike whenever she thought about that day.

Her wedding day should have been the happiest of her life, but it wasn’t, and unlike what many probably suspected, it had nothing to do with her groom deciding not to show up. It was because, for months before her wedding day ever arrived, she had been living a lie.

It had taken Nyla a long time to acknowledge the feelings she’d denied for so long, feelings she’d started to have toward Aiden months before she’d fled from Georgia. While she was still engaged to his brother.

But that was a long time ago. She had worked through those issues and had come to terms with the mistakes she’d made. She could handle seeing Aiden again.

Reaching for his hands, Nyla captured them both and gave them a gentle but firm squeeze. “It really is good to see you again,” she said.

And she meant it. The price she’d paid for falling in love with him had been steep—it had upended her entire life. But she could not deny that the feelings had been real.

“It’s good to see you, too, Nyla.”

The earnestness in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes, the way he tightened his hold on her hands—it confirmed the one thing she feared she would find if they ever came face-to-face again. After three long years, nothing had changed. They were both still caught up in this forbidden love that had caused so much pain for so many.

Nyla dragged in a steadying breath as she extracted her hands from his hold.

Despite the warmth the stone oven delivered to the entire bakery, she rubbed up and down her arms. She was a heartbeat away from bursting out of her skin with the bevy of conflicting emotions that suddenly overwhelmed her.

She pointed to the door. “I should lock up. We’re actually closed.”

Mentally cursing the self-consciousness that made her hyperaware of every single move she made, she walked over to the door and flipped the open sign to closed.

In an attempt to steal a few moments to catch her breath, she stared out the window at the people making their way through the narrow street leading to the Piazza della Cisterna in the very heart of San Gimignano.

“The snow is coming down pretty hard out there,” she said.

“It is,” Aiden said from just behind her.

Nyla jumped and turned, covering her chest, which she was certain would crack wide-open from her rampant heartbeats. She tried to play off her nervousness with a breathy laugh, but it came out sounding forced.

“I didn’t realize you were right there,” she said, her hand still to her chest.

Aiden’s deep brown eyes bored into hers, seeing more than she wanted him to see.

“You’re not okay with me being here,” he said. “I shouldn’t have just shown up out of the blue like this. I can tell I’ve caught you off guard.”

“Just a bit,” she admitted.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intent in coming here.”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, a telling sign of irritation. The fact that she remembered that idiosyncrasy about him was both alarming and revealing. She’d learned so much about him in the short time she’d known him.

He blew out a frustrated breath. “I should go. It was wrong to just drop in on you without any warning.”

He took a step toward the door.

“Aiden, no,” she said. “You came all this way. You don’t have to go anywhere. Please stay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want there to be any awkwardness between us, Nyla.” Dipping his head to her eye level, he said, “If you really don’t want me here, if you think it’s still too soon, I’ll leave.”

He brought his hand up as if to caress her cheek but pulled back before touching her. Instead he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

This was what she’d loved most about him. In her thirty years, Nyla had yet to find anyone as selfless as Aiden Williams.

“I don’t want you to go,” she said.

Profound relief washed over his face. His shoulders relaxed as a gentle smile traveled across his lips. “Good, because driving in all that snow would suck.”

The laugh that broke free felt like her first genuine laugh in months, years even. Count on Aiden to be the one to elicit it. He seemed to be the one person who could make her laugh, even when she was trying her hardest to wallow.

She motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen.

“So, how are you enjoying Switzerland?” she called over her shoulder.

“It’s okay, I guess. Just being in another country is cool.” He shrugged one shoulder before leaning it against the arching brick entryway that separated the kitchen from the retail shop. “Other than a trip down to Cabo San Lucas for spring break, this is my first time abroad.”

“Zurich and Cabo are two very different experiences,” she said.

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Honestly, I’ve been too swamped with work to do much sightseeing, but I plan to extend my trip by at least a week or two once the project I’m setting up is complete.”

“What exactly are you doing there?” she asked as she peeked under the towel to check on her dough.

“Boring computer stuff.”

Nyla’s brow arched. “I think I could have figured that out on my own. Care to elaborate?”

“No, I don’t,” he said. He took off his coat and draped it over his arm. “If memory serves correctly, your eyes will start to glaze over after about thirty seconds.”

Her lips twitched in amusement. He’d probably called that one correctly. No matter how hard she’d tried—and she had tried—she could not feign interest in the techie things he loved so much.

Back when she would visit his parents’ home, when she and Cameron first started dating, Nyla was convinced that Aiden was permanently attached to his computer. It didn’t matter what he was doing: grabbing a soda from the fridge, answering the landline phone, even making a sandwich. His laptop computer was in his hand.

As she looked at him now, he hardly resembled that skinny college senior he’d been when she left the States.

His lean, lanky body had filled out in a way she never would have imagined three years ago. He was still slim, but Nyla could make out the outline of muscles underneath his moss-green wool sweater and the plaid scarf still wrapped loosely around his neck. Gone was the close-cropped haircut. He now wore his hair in long, neat dreads that were gathered in a band at the base of his head and reached the middle of his back.

Aiden had always seemed old beyond his years, intellectually. It looked as if his body had finally caught up with that brain of his.

“Whatever it is that you’re doing with your fancy computers, I really am happy it brought you to my part of the world,” she said. “So, now that you’re staying in Europe for Christmas, what are your plans for the holiday?”

“Well, that’s where you come in,” he said.

“Me?”

“Like I said, I have the next several days off, and I’ve never been to Italy before. I was hoping that the only resident of the country I know would be willing to play tour guide for a couple of days.”

His expression held a subtle apprehensiveness that told her he wasn’t as relaxed as he was trying to appear.

“What did you have in mind?” Nyla asked.

“I’d like to go down to Rome, see the Colosseum, maybe reenact my favorite scene from Gladiator.” He curled his biceps. “I think I could have filled in for Russell Crowe as Maximus Meridius. What do you think?”

She couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not really gladiator material. But I’d still like to see it.” His voice took on a more serious note. “Look, Nyla. I know this is last minute, and I did just show up out of the blue. And as much as we’re trying to pretend that it’s just like old times, before...well...you know.” He shook his head. “We’re both aware of the eight-hundred-pound gorilla in the room. If it makes you too uncomfortable to do this, just say the word.”

As she stared at him, Nyla told herself that enough time had passed since she’d had that horrible slip in judgment that had changed everything. She might not be ready to talk about it just yet, but she would hope that she had undergone enough personal growth that she could put her past mistakes behind her and just enjoy a few days with this person who had meant so much to her.

Maybe it would help to think about the girl she’d spotted in several of the pictures on his Facebook page. Young, petite and with obvious adoration toward Aiden, she looked like his perfect match.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to think of Aiden’s other woman.

She walked over to where he still leaned against the archway. Aiden straightened as she approached, the apprehension that colored his expression just a few seconds ago replaced with cautious hope.

“I’m not sure I’m ready to tackle that eight-hundred-pound gorilla yet, but if you’re willing to ignore it for now, so am I.”

“You’re sure about this?” he asked. “You did say on Facebook that you didn’t have any special plans for the holidays, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to do this just because I came all the way from Zurich. In the snow. Without knowing how to read a lick of Italian. And did I mention the snow?”

The grin twitching at the corner of his mouth wrung a laugh out of her.

“I am happy to do it,” Nyla said. “Honestly, I was planning to spend a quiet Christmas at home, but it’s been a while since I took a trip down to Rome. Besides, every man should have the chance to live out his gladiator fantasy.”

Nyla fought to ignore the tingles his rich, warm laugh generated along her nerve endings. She held up one finger. “However, there is a catch.”

Aiden’s smooth forehead creased with a frown. “What’s that?”

She grabbed an apron from the peg on the wall and tossed it to him. “I’ll play tour guide if you play baker’s assistant.”

Chapter 2

Aiden sprinkled coarse sea salt over the balls of dough lined along the slab of cold marble. “Is this too much?” he asked.

Nyla looked up from the dough she was stretching into a long rope. “It’s perfect.” With a grin, she said, “Someone must have taught you well.”

“I wonder who that could have been.” He let out a soft chuckle as he cupped the small mounds of dough in his hands, making sure they were evenly rounded. “I still remember when you found me hunched over my computer during midterms. I was ready to throw the thing out the window. You dragged me into my mom’s kitchen and showed me the therapeutic benefits of beating the crap out of bread dough instead.”

“Much cheaper and less damaging than beating the crap out of your computer. Tastier, too.”

“In more ways than one.”

The moment the words left his mouth Aiden wished he could rein them back in.

Nyla’s hands stilled, her shoulders stiffened. “Aiden,” she said, a hint of reprimand in her soft voice.

Every trace of the delicate camaraderie that had surfaced over the past half hour vanished in the uncomfortable silence that settled around them.

Aiden swallowed the groan of frustration that nearly escaped his throat. He couldn’t believe they were back to this, dancing around the attraction that had always hummed between them.

As if it hadn’t been hard enough to fight the first time.

In the beginning he really had tried to fight it, because Aiden figured any acknowledgment of his attraction to Nyla was a lost cause that would only lead to him looking like a fool for falling for his older brother’s girl. Who in their right mind would ever think a woman like Nyla—beautiful, successful, damn near a goddess in her own right—would take a second glance at a scrawny computer geek? Especially after she’d already caught the eye of his richer, handsomer, ex–professional NBA player older brother?

But she had looked his way.

As much as Cameron had tried to play the victim, Aiden laid some of the blame for the relationship that had developed between him and Nyla at his brother’s feet. It had been at Cameron’s request that Nyla would often come over to their parents’ home in Druid Hills, which was halfway between where Cameron lived in Buckhead in North Atlanta, and Kirkwood, where Nyla lived, south of the city.

At first Aiden wanted to call his brother out for being an inconsiderate ass, making his woman meet him halfway so that he wouldn’t have to drive too far to pick her up. For purely selfish reasons, Aiden had decided to keep his mouth shut. He wanted her at his house. He’d started to fall in love with Nyla with a swiftness that, to this day, still shocked him.

He’d found himself spending more time studying at home than at the library on the off chance that Nyla would show up. Thoughts of her had occupied his brain every waking hour. He was lucky he’d passed a single class that final semester.

He was far from a ladies’ man, especially when compared to Cameron, but he’d had a couple of girlfriends by the time he met Nyla. It was only with considerable effort that Aiden could now recall those other girls’ names. Nyla’s hold on his heart was unyielding, leaving no room for anyone else. Even after she’d left and he’d finished school and moved out on his own, she was still the ideal by which all other women had been measured, and he had yet to find one that even came close.

He had finally decided to stop looking. She had never been his—not officially—but he was determined to change that. It might take a Christmas miracle, but one way or another he was going to convince her that they belonged together.

He just had to figure out how to make that happen.

He looked up to find her wiping her brow with the arm of her long-sleeved T-shirt. Her shoulder-length hair was pulled back into a ponytail holder, but several pieces had fallen out and now framed her face. She had the uncanny ability to look even more beautiful in a plain white shirt with a light dusting of flour on her forehead than she had dressed in a flowing wedding gown.

Of course, his memory of how she looked in that wedding gown was marred by the fact that she had been on the verge of marrying his brother. And that, prior to seeing her in that gown, his last encounter with her had been at her wedding rehearsal dinner, where she’d told him that the kiss that had been the most meaningful of his life had been the biggest regret of hers.

Hearing those words from her had been difficult, but he’d been just as wounded by the way she’d looked at him that night, as if he were a lovesick boy that she had somehow led on, instead of a man she had begun to have feelings for. It made him question everything about the time the two of them had shared.

Aiden shook those thoughts from his head. Dealing with the repercussions of everything that had happened back then was never easy.

He was not going to think about that now. It was water under the proverbial bridge. He’d grown a lot over these past three years. He no longer questioned the time he’d spent with Nyla. He was just grateful to have found her again.

Though he was surprised to have found her in a place like this.

“So, how did you end up baking bread in a tiny family bakery?” Aiden asked. “You completed one of the top pastry programs in all of France. Why aren’t you making cream puffs and macarons?”

“I spent nearly a year working at an exclusive hotel in Paris after I finished my training at Leôntre, but when I vacationed in Tuscany two years ago I fell instantly in love with it. Especially San Gimignano, with all its medieval towers and its rich history. I just had to be here.”

“I understand,” he said.

Nyla looked up from the dough she was braiding and smiled that soft smile that used to make his breath catch. Apparently it still did. He had to remind himself to pull in some oxygen.

In a quiet voice, she said, “I knew you would.”

A mutual love of history was just one of the things they’d discovered they had in common, which had led to exploring other interests they shared. Which had then led to Nyla breaking dates with Cameron so that the two of them could attend museum exhibits, foreign film showings at the Lefont Theater and quiet meals at her home.

Which had then led to Aiden falling so deeply in love with her that he ached with it.

“Nyla, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but we can’t pretend it isn’t there.”

“Aiden, please.” She slipped a wooden paddle underneath the two loaves of sourdough she’d put in the stone oven twenty minutes ago and transferred them to the countertop. “I just... I can’t right now. Please.”

His fingers clenched the sides of the marble table. He hated that they were back here, tiptoeing around each other. There was a time, only a few years ago, when she had been his best friend. How could one kiss change everything?

But it had. And if he wasn’t careful, he would scare her away again. He wasn’t willing to lose any of the ground he’d made in reclaiming the friendship they once shared.

It had been hard enough to get to this point. When he finally found her on Facebook, nearly two years after she’d left Atlanta, Aiden had debated for weeks whether to make contact. She’d made herself clear when she left—she didn’t want anything to do with him.

When he finally gathered up the nerve to contact her, she ignored his friend request for six months. Six months. He’d given up hope of ever speaking to her again.

And then, one day, there she was.

He could still feel the shock and desire that gripped his chest with every breath he took as he stared at her profile picture sitting in his friends list. He spent hours scrolling along her Facebook page, going through her photos, learning everything he could about the life she’d led in the two and a half years since he’d last seen her.

Gradually, their online friendship began to resemble the real-life one they’d shared. Nyla began to leave comments here and there. Aiden found himself scouring the Web for stories he figured she would find interest in—outdoor festivals, restaurant openings—with the sole purpose of garnering her attention. That’s just how desperate he was to have her back in his life again, that he was willing to resort to high-school crush tactics.

It didn’t seem all that pathetic right now. Just look what it had gotten him. Here they were, enjoying a pastime the two of them had engaged in more times than he could count.

As Nyla transferred the rolls he’d made into the stone oven, she told him about the history of the family bakery—both the business itself and the building that housed it, which was once rumored to be a boardinghouse for ladies of ill repute.

“Everything is aboveboard these days,” she said with a laugh. “Being so close to the Piazza della Cisterna, we get heavy foot traffic, but this rare snow has kept many of the tourists inside for the last couple of days.”

“So, if the bakery is closed until after Christmas, why are we baking all this bread?” Aiden asked.

“It’s for the ‘Concert of Good Wishes’ at Sant’Agostino Church,” she answered. “It’s a huge event for the holidays. Several schools sell refreshments to benefit their music programs and Leoncini’s donates the bread to help defray the cost. Yet another reason I love San Gimignano—the locals are always willing to pitch in to help each other.”

Even though it made him feel like an ass, Aiden couldn’t help the resentment slowly building within him toward the town. With its quaint little shops and rich history, it seemed like the perfect fit for Nyla. But it was half a world away from Atlanta, which made it the exact opposite of perfect in his eyes.

“Do you think the concert will still go on, even with the heavy snow?”

“Oh, yeah,” Nyla answered. “I don’t care how much it snows, there’s going to be a crowd.” She started filling several brown paper bags with long loaves of crusty bread. Then she nodded to a spot just beyond his shoulder. “Can you hand me that box over there? We can deliver the bread once these final loaves are done, and I can give you a quick tour before we head to Rome, or Roma, as it’s known here. That is, if you’re up for another three-hour drive after that long ride in from Zurich.”

“It was my plan to continue on to Rome tonight. I already have a room booked.”

“Thank goodness, because it will be impossible to find one this close to Christmas.”

“Nearly everything was taken. That’s why the room is only for tonight and tomorrow night. I was thinking that we could see as much as we could tomorrow, and then maybe leave around noon on Christmas Eve. I can drop you back here and head back to Zurich.” He paused for a moment before adding, “That is, unless you don’t mind me hanging around until Christmas Day.”

Her mouth opened, then closed. “I...I think I’d like that,” she said.

Aiden couldn’t stave off the smile that curled up the corners of his lips. “So would I.”

Nyla cleared her throat and returned to packing the breads. “So, which hotel did you book in Rome?”

“I can’t remember the name, but I know it’s in the Termini Station District.”

She looked up at him. “That’s perfect. My friend Else lives not too far from there. I can stay with her.” She tipped her head to the side and smiled. “I really am happy you invited me along. There’s something truly miraculous about Rome at Christmas.”

Aiden didn’t doubt it, but he already had his Christmas miracle. Having her there with him was the only miracle he needed.

* * *

“Are you sure you didn’t want to stay for the concert?” Aiden asked. He strolled alongside her, his hands stuffed in his pockets. They delivered the baked goods to the church, which was already filling up with both tourists and locals eager for the annual concert to begin, then took off for their walking tour of San Gimignano.

“Positive,” Nyla said. “Don’t get me wrong, I find watching a bunch of cute kids sing Christmas carols precious and all, but after about twenty minutes of standing in the cold my feet go numb. Besides, I want you to see the town.”

The snow had finally stopped falling as they traversed Via San Matteo, one of the town’s main arteries, but flakes continued to shuttle down the eaves of the shop roofs that lined the popular tourist route.

Nyla pointed to the structure at the southern edge of the narrow street. “You see that stone tower up ahead? That’s La Torre del Diavolo, the Tower of the Devil.”

“Huh, didn’t realize I’d get to see where the devil lives. I guess that’s cool, though not what I had in mind when planning my Christmas vacation.”

Nyla laughed. “Legend has it that the owner left for a trip, and when he returned, the tower had somehow grown taller. The townspeople attributed it to the devil, thus the name.”

“I think the townspeople just wanted the owner to think he was losing his mind. They probably had those bricks tucked away somewhere and started adding to the tower the minute he left.”

Nyla lolled her head to the side and released a tired sigh. “Your lack of appreciation for good folklore is such a disappointment.”

“Sorry,” he said, humor shading his voice. “I’ll try to lock away my pesky scientific side so I can be more open to your folklore and fairy tales.”

“It’s for your own good. It will make this trip much more tolerable, especially when we get to Rome with all of its ancient legends.”

“I can appreciate good history,” he said. “I hadn’t heard of San Gimignano before learning that you lived here, but I must admit I’m intrigued by these towers. The fact that they’ve survived this long and are still in such good shape is amazing,” Aiden said, his eyes focused on one of the town’s fourteen remaining medieval towers. “When you live in a country as young as the United States, it’s hard to comprehend structures that have been standing for several centuries.”

“I know,” Nyla said with a wistful sigh. “Even though I’m surrounded by it every day, it still takes my breath away.”

Aiden looked over at her and, after a moment, blew out a resigned sigh. “You really do love it here, don’t you?”

She nodded. “I do.”

He dropped his head and huffed out a humorless laugh. “Shit.”

“Don’t be that way,” Nyla said. “Tuscany has been good to me. It’s been good for me. I thought moving to Paris and following one of my lifelong dreams would solve everything, but it didn’t. I was still in such a dark place. There was something about San Gimignano that made me whole again.”

Aiden stopped walking, causing her feet to halt midstroll. He took her hands in his and, with an earnestness in his voice that touched her soul, said, “As much as I hate that you had to leave in order to feel whole again, I’m happy you were able to find a place where you could be happy. Over the tens of thousands of times I’ve thought about you these past three years, the thing I’ve wished for most is that you were happy.”

His words wrapped around her like a warm blanket, eliciting a measure of comfort that only Aiden had ever provided. It scared her as much as it consoled her. The feeling she experienced this very moment—the trust, the tenderness—it was the thing she feared most about being around Aiden again.

Three years ago, she’d fallen for him with amazing ease. As a result, her well-ordered life had been upended. It was only by some miracle that Aiden’s had not been destroyed, as well.

She would not be so stupid—so selfish—as to put them through that kind of turmoil again.

Two days.

She only had to get through two days. It would be a test of her will, but also a testament to how well she’d learned from her past mistakes.

They walked through the narrow arched passageway that led to the Piazza della Cisterna. Nyla gave Aiden a brief history of the triangular-shaped square.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the well in the center of the piazza.

“Probably one of the most visited sites in all of San Gimignano. For hundreds of years that well was where the town’s residents got their water.”

“It’s a cistern. That’s where the name Piazza della Cisterna must come from.” He looked over at her. “Am I right?”

“I knew it wouldn’t take long for that massive brain to catch on,” she said with a laugh. She breathed deeply and pointed to the café just off to the right of the well. “Mmm...do you smell that? That place makes the best ribollita you will ever eat.”

“I make it a point not to eat anything I can’t pronounce,” Aiden said.

She pinched his arm, even though she couldn’t do much damage through his heavy suede coat. “There’s more to life than Quarter Pounders with cheese,” she said, remembering his ridiculous love of McDonald’s. “Ribollita is a thick soup made with beans and topped with fresh red onions to give it a crunch. It’s perfect on cold nights like tonight.”

“I think I’ll stick with the burgers and fries.”

Nyla rolled her eyes, but she had to admit it was nice to see some things about him hadn’t changed.

She pointed out several more structures as they walked through the narrow streets leading back to the bakery. They climbed the stairs behind it, which led to the small apartment she sublet from her boss’s son.

Murano Leoncini had been living in San Francisco for the past two years. But he would be back in San Gimignano at the end of January, which meant she had an important decision to make.

“Well, this is home,” Nyla said, shutting off thoughts of Murano’s return and gesturing for Aiden to enter ahead of her.

He unwrapped his scarf from around his neck, took off his jacket, and draped them both over the arm of her living-room chair.

Nyla took in the size of his shoulders and marveled at how much he’d changed, at least physically, since the last time she’d seen him. His body resembled his brother’s more athletic build, but he wasn’t overly muscular as Cameron had been. Those nicely defined muscles looked very good on him, too good. So good that she was starting to question the wisdom of being confined in a car with him for three hours as they drove down to Rome.

He walked over to the scraggly three-foot Christmas tree she’d placed on a stand atop an end table. A crooked smile tilted his lips as he trailed a finger along the string of popcorn garland she’d made in a fit of nostalgia.

“Give me a few minutes to throw some clothes in a bag,” Nyla said. “Can I get you something to drink while you wait?”

Aiden waved off the offer. Leaving the tree, he plopped down on her sofa, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Nyla’s breath hitched as memories assailed her. How many times had he assumed that pose after “dropping in” at her home in Kirkwood, exhausted from a day of challenging classes at Georgia Tech? She’d accepted his excuses about not wanting to face the traffic heading home to north Atlanta, and never questioned when an hour of hanging out soon led to two or three. And eventually overnight.

On those few occasions when he told his parents that he was bunking in a friend’s dorm room, Nyla convinced herself that the little white lie wasn’t all that bad. It wasn’t as if they’d spent those nights doing anything untoward. They’d watched old movies, or played Scrabble until after midnight. When it was time for bed, she would sleep in her room and Aiden on the sofa. Nothing ever happened.

But she knew Aiden wanted it to. And as much as she’d tried to turn a blind eye to what was happening, she knew that she had wanted something more to happen, too.

She should have stopped it long before those feelings got so out of hand. But she had not wanted it to stop, because never in her life had she felt more alive, more true to herself, than she had when she was with Aiden. Even though their relationship had never become physical, what had started as just a friendship had blossomed into more.

That she had allowed her heart to become involved had made her into the thing she most loathed—a cheater. After suffering through the hurt of a philandering ex-lover, Nyla had thought it incomprehensible that she could ever do something remotely similar.

That’s why she continued to feed herself the lies that what she and Aiden were doing wasn’t cheating. There was nothing wrong with spending time with someone who shared her interests, especially when Cameron had shown a complete lack of enthusiasm for many of the “boring” things she enjoyed. Aiden had filled a void, and eventually he began to fill crevices in her heart she hadn’t known were empty.

He’d made falling for him so damn easy.

Nyla’s eyes fell shut. She would not go there again. She couldn’t. She’d suffered enough guilt to last a lifetime; she would not put herself through that again.

She grabbed her weekender bag from the top shelf of the hall closet on the way to her room. As she snatched a couple of sets of bras and panties from her underwear drawer, she pulled up Else’s number. She knew Else, a college professor originally from Phoenix, wouldn’t have a problem with her bunking at her place for a few days, but Nyla would do her the courtesy of asking first. Her call went to voice mail, so she left a message, letting Else know that she would be darkening her doorstep in a few hours.

As she plucked a couple of sweater dresses and her calf-length boots from the closet, she tried to dismiss the anxiety creeping along her conscience.

“What are you doing?” Nyla asked the empty room.

On a list of bad ideas, this had to rank at the very top, right above jumping off a cliff. Which was how she felt with the way her emotions were all over the place. Had she not learned anything from the repercussions she’d suffered the first time she’d allowed herself to get close to him? Was she setting herself up for another fall?

“It’s just a couple of days,” Nyla reminded herself. She could handle a couple of days.

She reentered the living room and immediately rethought that assertion.

Aiden stood with his back to her, observing the framed photographs she’d taken when she’d tried her hand at photography.

Nyla was struck by the quiet confidence he now exuded. It was evident in the way he carried himself, standing strong with shoulders back and his head high. She’d caught glimpses of the young, sweet, slightly nerdy college student she remembered so well, but there was no denying that he’d come into his own. Or that he was all man.

As his eyes roamed the black-and-white stills of the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe and the tree-lined Champs-Élysées, Nyla’s eyes roamed over him.

Her gaze immediately homed in on the way his soft brown corduroys cupped his backside. As her eyes traveled upward, she marveled at the way the wool sweater outlined the muscles in his back and shoulders. It was such a contrast to the slim, lanky body of a few years ago. His muscles weren’t as big as Cameron’s, but they were just as fine. Perfect, actually. She had never been a fan of huge muscles. Toned and trim was much sexier.

Nyla’s head jerked back as she realized where her train of thought had led her. She had to stop doing this.

Aiden turned, catching her off guard. “Hey.” He gestured to her bag. “You ready?”

“Uh, yes,” she said. “I am.”

His forehead dipped in a curious frown as he reached for her bag. “You okay?”

“Yes, of course,” Nyla lied.

She wasn’t okay. Not even a little bit. She didn’t know how she would survive the next few days. The swift rush of pleasure she experienced every time she saw him, along with the anguish she suffered knowing that he would eventually share all that she loved about him with someone else, was bound to overwhelm her.

Envy toward the woman who would one day be a part of his world had been a constant struggle during those first few months after she left. It still was. Although, now that she thought about it, maybe knowing he was off-limits could actually help her get through these next few days.

“I’ve been meaning to ask how things are going with your girlfriend,” Nyla said.

“Who?”

“The girl who was with you in your profile picture on Facebook for a while. She had that pretty light brown complexion and those green eyes.”

“You mean Erica.”

“I guess. Where did the two of you meet?”

“Work. She’s in Human Resources. But we’re not seeing each other anymore. We decided we worked better as friends and coworkers.”

“Oh.” Nyla staunchly ignored the sudden tingles that traveled across her skin. It shouldn’t matter that he’d broken things off with his girlfriend. “So, is there anyone special in your life?” she asked.

Aiden paused for a moment, his eyes trained on her. “Yes,” he answered.

She couldn’t ignore the way her heart deflated at that single word. “That’s wonderful,” she said, and tried to convince herself that she meant it.

She was happy for him. Of course, she was happy for him. Aiden was sweet, smart and funny; he deserved to have someone special in his life. And it was exactly what she needed to hear. Knowing that he was taken took the pressure off her. She wasn’t about to become the other woman for anyone. She could relax now and just enjoy this time with him.

“Nyla,” Aiden started. “That someone special—”

Her phone rang.

She held up a finger, grateful for the interruption. She was happy for him, but she wasn’t interested in hearing about his latest girlfriend.

“One minute.” She checked the phone, expecting to see Else’s number. Instead it was Guido Leoncini’s. “It’s the bakery owner,” she said. “I need to cover a few things with him before I leave.”

She turned and spoke to Guido in Italian, letting him know the bakery was locked up but that he should go in tomorrow to make sure the embers in the oven had completely burned out.

She took pride in running Leoncini’s, even though she’d known she would leave, even if Murano weren’t returning. She had not put in so much time and effort into learning the craft of pastry making to spend the rest of her life in a small family bakery. Her dreams had always been so much bigger. She just wasn’t sure she was ready to take the step she had been contemplating.

Nyla glanced at the tiny desk in the corner. The yellow legal pad next to her laptop listed several vacant storefronts in downtown Atlanta and a few in some of the wealthier suburbs where a high-end bakery would thrive. She’d slashed through the ones that had been leased over the past few weeks, but the one she’d had her eye on was still available.

All it would take was a phone call to the real-estate agent. She’d purposely refrained from accumulating too many possessions. A few boxes and her suitcase, and she could be on her way to Atlanta and the pastry shop she’d had her heart set on opening since her dad brought her to one to celebrate her tenth birthday.

Her chest tightened just at the thought of returning home, back to the family she’d missed like crazy over the past three years.

Back to the place where so many people knew of the humiliation she’d suffered.

Could she do it? Did she have a choice?

She couldn’t stay hidden in Europe forever. And she didn’t want to. As much as she loved Tuscany and the life she’d built for herself, she missed the life she’d left back in the States. Maybe it was time she returned.

Now was not the time to think about this. She’d vowed to put all that stuff aside and just enjoy herself these next couple of days. It was Christmas, after all.

She pocketed her cell phone and clapped her hands together. “Ready?” she asked.

“Nyla, about what we were talking about before your phone rang.”

Yes. His new girlfriend.

If there was one thing she didn’t want to think about more than those impending decisions she had to make regarding going back home, it was Aiden’s new girlfriend.

She pointed to the digital clock on her DVD player and smiled a smile she wasn’t really feeling. “It’s already after six. We should probably get going.”

Aiden started to speak, then stopped. He stared at her for several long moments before taking her bag and heading out the door.

Chapter 3

“Can we at least both agree that it makes more sense if I took over at the wheel? You’ve been driving all day.”

“And you’ve been baking all day.”

Nyla flipped her hands in the air. Two hours into their three-hour trek down to Rome and she was still trying to convince Aiden to let her take over driving duties.

“I’ve been driving in Italy longer than you have,” she tried.

“Let’s see. There’s a road. It has lines on either side. As long as I stay between the lines, I think I’m good.”

The look she sent him was sharp enough to cut through leather. Not that it mattered; with his eyes focused on the highway he wasn’t looking at her anyway.

“Fine,” Nyla said, settling back in her seat. “If you want to continue driving, you’ll have to tell me the story behind that picture on Facebook.”

He glanced over at her and laughed. “How exactly does that work? If I don’t tell you the story, will the car magically stop moving?”

“Aiden,” she said in a warning tone.

He let out a sigh. “Were you always this bossy?”

“Come on.” Nyla pinched his arm. “I want to know how a picture of you stripped down to your skivvies ended up on Facebook.”

“I lost a bet,” he said. “I tried to get that stupid picture blocked, but no matter how many times I reported it, they never took it down. I had to threaten my friend Mike that I would post a video of him singing ‘Dancing Queen’ in drag on YouTube. He’s in his last year of law school and is clerking for the Georgia Supreme Court. He definitely doesn’t want links to that video showing up in the judges’ in-boxes.”

“Ouch. That’s cutthroat,” Nyla said with a laugh. “Knowing you, I should have guessed that the picture was the result of a bet, though I must admit I was sort of hoping you’d developed a bit of a wild side.”

He glanced at her. “I may not make a habit of swimming in the Atlantic in my underwear, but I’m not the quiet guy I used to be, either. There’s a little wild in me.”

She studied him for a moment. “How much?”

“Just enough.”

The effort it took to ignore the tingles those two words set off in her belly was exhausting. Yet she still spent the last hour of their drive contemplating what a little wild would look like in Aiden.

By the time they reached Else’s, the snow was once again falling, covering Rome in a rare blanket of pillow-soft whiteness that made it seem even more romantic and magical. Nyla declared it the first Christmas miracle of the season when they were able to find street parking across from Else’s building in the Trieste District.

Several of the balconies of the high-rise were trimmed with twinkling Christmas lights, but Else’s, which she could see from street level, was bare. The window beyond, which led to her living room, was completely dark.

She tried Else’s number again as she and Aiden crossed the street. She breathed a sigh of relief when her friend answered on the third ring.

“Thank goodness I finally got ahold of you,” Nyla said. “I’m just outside your building. I hope you don’t mind company for a couple of days.”

Her steps halted as Else spoke.

“You’re kidding me,” Nyla said.

“What’s wrong?” Aiden asked.

She held up her index finger, asking him to wait. “No, no. It’s okay,” Nyla spoke into the phone. “The trip down to Rome was very last minute. I came on the off chance that you’d be here. Enjoy Thailand.”

“Thailand?” Aiden asked when she ended the call.

“Yes.” Nyla blew out a sigh. “She was invited to spend Christmas there with a couple of fellow faculty members. She offered to call the landlord of the building, but she said there have been several break-ins in the area and they’re hesitant about letting people into the building who were not previously on a visitors’ list.”

Nyla rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to ease the headache that had suddenly formed between her eyes. She slipped her cell phone into her pocket before hunkering in her coat, pulling the hood over her head.

“As far as contingency plans go, what are your options?” Aiden asked.

She shook her head. “Finding an available hotel room this close to Christmas will be impossible, and that’s not considering how outrageous the cost will be even if I do find one.”

In a low voice, he said, “You can always stay with me.”

Nyla looked up at him from underneath the brim of her hood.

There was a time when spending a couple of nights in the same place with Aiden wouldn’t have been a big deal. She’d done so not too long after she and Cameron first started dating. After a freak rainstorm made the roads too treacherous for her to drive home, Nyla had spent the night at his parents’ house.

She and Aiden had stayed up way too late debating politics. He’d played the devil’s advocate just to get a rise out of her. Nyla had held stubbornly to her positions for the very same reason. Talk of politics had soon turned to other things they disagreed on, like his affinity for fast food. Eventually, they began to discuss things they had in common.

That was the first time she’d started to see him as more than her boyfriend’s younger brother.

She should have tried her luck with the rainstorm.

Nothing that would have happened on the slick roads that night could have been worse than what eventually resulted from the lapse in judgment she made when she allowed herself to fall for Aiden.

It was going to be hard enough being around him for the next two days. The thought of spending the next couple of nights with him made Nyla’s breath catch in her throat and her skin warm, despite the snowflakes fluttering around them.

She was being ridiculous. This was Aiden. Kind, sweet, nerdy Aiden. Quiet, unassuming Aiden.

Grown and much-sexier-than-he-had-a-right-to-be Aiden.

No, she wasn’t being ridiculous. She’d managed to fall for him back when he was quiet, nerdy and unassuming. The fact that he now had the physical qualities she attributed to her ideal man made these feelings of attraction coursing through her impossible to ignore.

“What about that eight-hundred-pound gorilla?” she asked. “European hotel rooms are notoriously small. It could get pretty cramped with the three of us in there.”

“You’re the one who has a problem with it. I’m ready to face the eight-hundred-pound gorilla head-on. Don’t you think it would make the next couple of days less awkward?”

Nyla predicted it would do just the opposite. Resurrecting those past mistakes had trouble written all over it.

She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

She knew they would eventually have to confront it. Maybe.

It would be idyllic if they could spend the next two days as they had done back when they were just two friends enjoying time together. Aiden would go back to Zurich, she would return to her quaint apartment in San Gimignano and they would stay in touch via Facebook, this time with memories of the Christmas they shared in Rome.

But, as she knew all too well, the ideal rarely happened.

Sooner or later, she would have to confront her past mistakes. If not over the next few days, then when she left San Gimignano, which looked as if it would be even sooner than she’d anticipated.

Nyla hunched her shoulder. “I guess there isn’t much choice. It’s much too late to try to find a hotel room.”

“Neither does it make sense for you to look for one,” Aiden said. “I’m pretty sure the room has two beds if it makes you feel any better.”

Just the mention of beds made her stomach flutter; she felt like a teenage virgin preparing to spend the night with her high-school sweetheart.

Nyla mentally rolled her eyes. She was neither a teenager nor a virgin, and at five years his senior she had already been out of high school before Aiden even entered. It was time for her to face this like the adult she was.

“Come on,” she said, starting for the rental car. “It’s already late and if you’re going to see Rome in a day and a half, we’ll have to get started early in the morning.”

As they headed for the hotel, Nyla took in the charming lights and holiday decorations draped along the buildings. Because Italy’s national colors were red, white and green, many of the businesses really played it up during Christmastime. She truly loved this city, with its rich history and many legends that Aiden was so fond of teasing her about.

Maybe when Murano kicked her out of her apartment next month, she could move in with Else and look for a forno here in Rome.

Get a grip.

The likelihood of finding an available storefront was minimal at best, and the probability that she would be able to afford it was zilch. Besides, those euros she’d managed to save over the past couple of years would stretch much further in the United States than they would in Europe.

The Hotel Villa delle Rose was within walking distance of Termini Station, the transportation hub that would take them just about anywhere they wanted to go in the city. They checked into the hotel and went up to the room, which thankfully did have two beds.

“Are you hungry?” Nyla asked. “It’ll probably be a chore to find something opened this late, but I’m starving.”

“Let me take a guess...no McDonald’s?”

“You’re in Italy, Aiden! There will be no Big Macs while you’re here with me.”

They found a small trattoria a couple of blocks down from the hotel. Just as they walked up to the door, a hand appeared from behind a curtain and turned the open sign to closed. Nyla thumped on the door until a balding man who was nearly as wide as he was tall appeared.

She explained their plight in Italian, describing their drive down from Siena in the cold and snow. After a few minutes of listening to her whine, the trattoria owner agreed to whip up a quick carbonara and pack it in takeout containers. Nyla grabbed two bottles of chinotto, the bittersweet citrus soda popular among Italians.

She knocked Aiden’s hand out of the way when he tried to hand over his credit card.

“Hey!”

“You’re paying for the hotel. The least I can do is pay for the meal.”

“Are you forgetting that the only reason you’re here is that I begged you to come? You shouldn’t have to pay for anything.”

Nyla put a hand up. She wasn’t arguing with him.

It was after 10:00 p.m. by the time they arrived back to their room. She sat, cross-legged, in the middle of the bed, balancing the aluminum container in her lap. Aiden butted his back against the headboard, his feet crossed at the ankles out in front of him.

They were just two friends having dinner in the hotel room they would share for the next two nights. She could handle this.

God, please let me be able to handle this.

“Give me a list of what you want to see tomorrow,” she said as she twirled fettuccini around her plastic fork. “Other than the Colosseum.”

Aiden shrugged. “The normal sites, I guess. The Forum, the Vatican. According to the website, the Vatican will be open for touring up until Christmas Day.”

“Most of the touristy spots should be,” she said.

“Well, call me a typical tourist, but I’m excited to see all the places I’ve seen on TV and in the history books.”

“I was the same way the first time I visited.” She tapped her fork against her lips. “Come to think of it, I’m still that way. There’s so much to see and do in this city, and to be here at Christmastime, and with snow? You are one lucky man, Aiden Williams.”

His steady gaze caught her eyes and held them. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

It took some effort to tear her eyes away from his. Nyla pulled in a shaky breath.

“I, uh, I do have a couple of places that are off the beaten path that I think you’ll enjoy,” she said. “If we have time we should check them out.”

“We should make them a priority,” he said in that same low voice. “If you think I’ll enjoy them, then I know I will, seeing as you know me as well as just about anyone.”

Nyla tilted her head to the side, considering his words. “Why is that?”

He didn’t answer, just continued to stare at her. She decided to press him on it.

“You once told me that you were always home studying because you didn’t like opening up to people, but you always seemed to open up to me. Why?”

After several moments passed, he finally said, “You made it easy.”

He set his food on the nightstand between the beds and folded his hands over his flat stomach.

“You never treated me like I was weird just because I preferred looking through a telescope instead of watching a basketball game or doing other things that ‘regular guys’ did. You got me. You understood me better than my own family did.” He looked up at her and, with a grim smile, said, “You can probably do without my poor, neglected son monologue.”

A sad smile formed on her lips. “It couldn’t have been easy living in Cameron’s huge shadow.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad.”

Nyla wasn’t fooled by his nonchalance. She’d observed early on how differently Aiden was treated from his older brother.

“I love Lynda and Russell, but I could tell from early on that they had crowned Cameron the golden boy. I’m smack in the middle of five kids, so I know about having to grab whatever attention you can, but with it being just you two boys, it’s so obvious. Having them dote on him the way they do must be hard for you.”

“I’m used to it,” he said with another lift of his shoulders. “My earliest memories are of spending countless hours at Cameron’s elementary-school basketball practices. The focus of the Williams family has always been about nurturing Cameron’s talent and his career.”

“Even though his career only lasted a few years,” Nyla said.

By the time she and Cameron started dating, his NBA career had already been cut short by injury. He’d transitioned to the business side of things, working as a scout for Atlanta’s professional basketball team, where she’d worked as a senior account executive in the corporate ticket sales department. Even though he was no longer on the court, Cameron’s larger-than-life personality kept him in the spotlight.

The shadow he continued to cast was far and wide, leaving very little light to shine on all Aiden had achieved in college and graduate school. His tolerance of his family’s disregard of his many accomplishments made him that much more extraordinary in Nyla’s eyes.

“You really are special, you know that? Most people would be bitter, but you’re not.”

“Not too bitter. I have my moments,” he said, a wry grin tipping up the corner of his lips. “I can’t really complain, can I? Just look where I am.” He gestured to their surroundings. “I’m spending the holidays in Rome. And I’m with you.”

His penetrating gaze locked on her, making the confines of the small hotel room even more apparent. “Seeing Rome at Christmas is one thing, but having the chance to spend the holiday with you—anywhere—means even more. I know I’ve said it already, but I can’t say it enough. Thank you for doing this, Nyla.”

“You’re welcome,” Nyla said, her voice suddenly huskier than it had been a minute ago. She averted her eyes, concentrating on her dinner. She glanced up to find that, thankfully, Aiden had gone back to his. He picked up his drink, took a sip and started choking.

“Good God!” He held the bottle out and stared at it. “What the hell is this?”

A peal of laughter tumbled out of Nyla’s mouth. “It’s soda. I know it has a bit of a bite, but it’s really popular here.”

“A bit of a bite? It damn near snatched my lips off.” He set the bottle on her side of the nightstand. “You can have the rest of that. I’ll stick to water,” he said, tipping back the half-full bottle of water he’d taken from her apartment earlier. “Good call on dinner, though. Whether it would make me give up Big Macs entirely is debatable, but I can stand to eat a meal like this five days a week.”

“I told you,” she said with another laugh. “Just wait until tomorrow. Your taste buds are in for the experience of a lifetime.”

His gaze dropped to her lips. “I hope that applies to more than just my taste buds,” he said, his voice low, husky.

It was obvious they were no longer talking about food. The air in Nyla’s lungs constricted as she stared at Aiden’s mouth. He swept his tongue along his bottom lip, clearing a droplet of water. A tingle started in her belly and moved lower.

“You’ll have to wait and see,” she returned in an equally hushed tone.

The lightheartedness of a few moments ago evaporated. In its place stood a heady dose of desire. It pulsed around them, saturating the air, and bringing the reality of their impending night together in this small hotel room into stark relief.

A silent warning rang through Nyla’s head. This felt all too similar to what she’d experienced three years ago, when their playful banter soon escalated into something much more serious.

Yet, in the face of every consequence she’d suffered for falling for Aiden once before, the yearning to climb into bed with him and explore all the new dips and contours of his body was so strong Nyla could barely stand it. The devil on her shoulder urged her to give in to the impulse. Everyone thought they’d done more than they had anyway; couldn’t she give in this one time?

What was she thinking?

Nyla jumped up from the bed. Avoiding Aiden’s eyes, she said, “If you don’t mind, I’ll go first in the bathroom.” She grabbed her toiletry bag from where she’d tossed it on the dresser.

“Nyla?” Aiden called. She looked back at him. “Ignoring this won’t make it go away,” he said.

She tried to tear her eyes away from the truth staring back at her, but she couldn’t, because it was true. This feeling wasn’t going away. It hadn’t lessened one bit in the three long years they had been apart. She wasn’t foolish enough to think that it would do so now that she was right here with him again.

But she only had to ignore it for two days. And she would ignore it. The high price she’d paid for disregarding her common sense and giving in to her feelings for Aiden had burned her once. She would not get burned again.

Without another word, she slipped into the bathroom.

* * *

Aiden stuffed the empty food cartons in the trash bin at the end of the narrow hallway and headed back to their room.

Their room.

His steps slowed as he came upon the door. He captured the handle, then released it, his hands falling to his sides, his limbs suddenly so heavy it felt as if the entire weight of the world was pulling him down.

He took a couple of steps back, until he reached the wall opposite the door. He stared across the hallway to the room he would share with Nyla, and thumped the back of his head against the wall.

How was he supposed to get through tonight? His eyes fell shut as a pain-filled groan climbed from his throat. His skin felt tight, his stomach a jumble of knots. Every fiber in his body hummed with electricity just at the thought of being in that room all night with Nyla.

Why did she have to be every single thing he could ever want in a woman? Everything.

And it had nothing to do with the fact that she was beyond gorgeous—which she most definitely was. He’d dated attractive women in the past. Even though he suspected that some of them had only shown interest in him because of his connection to Cameron, Aiden was pretty confident that a couple of them had been genuine. Yet not one of them had ever elicited the feelings within him that Nyla had.

Nyla’s beauty radiated from the inside out. It was in that reassuring smile that came so readily, in her uncanny ability to sense when he needed to get something off his chest, or when he needed someone to silently be there, just so he knew he wasn’t alone.

What he’d told her earlier was the truth. She got him.

When others in his family brushed off the rejection he’d received on a paper he’d submitted to an academic journal, Nyla provided a shoulder to lean on. Even though she’d only known him for a few months at the time, she somehow understood what was important to him better than people who had known him his entire life. That’s just the kind of person she was: unique and special and giving.

And she was on the other side of that door.

“Just tell her how you feel,” Aiden whispered.

But he didn’t have to tell her. That was the thing that was driving him crazy. He would bet his last dime that Nyla knew exactly how he felt about her. She just wasn’t ready to face it, just as she hadn’t been able to face it three years ago.

She’d allowed others to shame her into thinking that she had taken advantage of him. Cameron, his parents, her parents, many of her friends; they had all put the blame at Nyla’s feet. She had even convinced herself that she had somehow led him on, as if he wasn’t mature enough to recognize that the attraction that had exploded that last night between them hadn’t been building for months.

He never should have let her get away without owning up to the fact that she had been just as attracted to him as he had been to her. She’d wanted that kiss. She’d wanted even more than just that damn kiss.

Aiden started for the door, but once again stopped before opening it.

If he went in there demanding she acknowledge feelings she wasn’t ready to admit to having, it could ruin these few short days he had with her.

“Dammit.”

He couldn’t bring it up again. Not yet.

But he would. Eventually, they were going to talk this through.

Shaking his head, he finally opened the door. Upon entering the room, he was met with the sound of the shower. His mind instantly conjured the image of Nyla standing naked underneath the spray of rushing water, her body glistening with rivulets of steamy moisture running down her skin. He nearly lost all feeling in his legs. Aiden fell back on the bed, covering his eyes with his forearm.

He would give up every single comic book in his Marvel collection—including the 1941 mint-condition Green Lantern—to be able to step inside that shower and have her wrap her arms around his neck. He wanted to feel her lovely, soft breasts pressed against his naked chest. He would give anything to wedge himself between her slick, soapy thighs and finally, finally discover what it felt like to make her his.

A groan tore out of his throat.

He could forget reenacting his favorite scenes from Gladiator at the Colosseum tomorrow. Pent-up lust would have him dead by morning.

“Hey, you okay?”

Aiden sprang upright. He hadn’t even heard when she turned the shower off. She was dressed in calf-length pajama pants and a black-and-pink tank top with a glittery martini glass on it. She looked ridiculously good with her soft brown skin freshly washed. She smelled delicious, like peaches, as if she’d rubbed a bit of Georgia on her skin.

“Aiden?”

He shook his head. He had to snap out of this.

“I’m good.” He grabbed his bag and headed to the bathroom, taking the quickest shower known to mankind. He wasn’t wasting any of this short time he had with Nyla.

When he reentered the room she was already in her bed, under the covers. She had the bedside lamp on and was flipping through the magazine that was on the table.

“You read Italian, too?” Aiden asked, gesturing to the magazine.

“Enough to get by.”

“You speak it like someone who’s lived here your entire life.”

“Working in Leoncini’s, I had no choice. It’s not as hard to pick up as you may think.” She pointed to the window. “It looks as if the snow is letting up. That should make it easier to get around tomorrow.”

Frowning, Aiden walked over to the window. “I was kind of hoping it would stick around for another couple of days. It would be my first white Christmas.”

“I didn’t think about that. Coming from Atlanta, you rarely get to see snow. I guess I’ve taken that for granted. It doesn’t snow often in San Gimignano, but the winter I lived in Paris was just awful.”

Aiden crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his shoulder against the cold windowpane. “What’s your ideal Christmas?”

“Hmm, that’s easy,” Nyla said, setting the magazine aside. She scooted up in the bed and brought her knees to her chest. “Back when I was eight or nine, my family started spending the holidays in the Smoky Mountains. My dad would rent a cabin and we would drive out there as soon as Christmas break started.

“We would sit around the fireplace and have eggnog and rice crispy treats. My mom would read ‘’Twas the Night Before Christmas’ and we would decorate the tree with garlands made out of popcorn. It was the corniest, most Leave It to Beaver thing you’ve ever seen, but I truly did love it.”

The light in her eyes dimmed. “I talked to my younger sister, Rae, just before you showed up at the bakery earlier today. They were heading out for the cabin. I’ve gotten used to not being around for birthdays or the big Fourth of July family picnic, but there’s something about not being at the cabin with everyone at Christmas that just slays me.”

“You miss them, don’t you?” Aiden asked.

She nodded. “I do. My younger brother and his wife have had two girls in the last sixteen months, and my other sister-in-law is going to have a baby any day now.”

Hearing the sadness in her voice triggered a deep ache in his chest. The thought that he had in some way contributed to the sorrow she was feeling caused him physical pain.

“Why haven’t you gone back, Nyla? Is it really because of what happened between us? You’ve allowed that to keep you away all this time?”

“You say it as if it was just this thing that happened, Aiden. As if it was no big deal.” She looked up at him, her deep brown eyes teeming with regret. “Everyone was there. My family, my coworkers, lifelong friends. Everyone I know witnessed that attorney coming to the church and telling me that Cameron didn’t want to marry me because I was sleeping with his baby brother.”

“But you weren’t sleeping with me. It’s Cameron’s fault that he didn’t give you a chance to explain. And are you seriously still giving him a pass, even after you found out that he was stepping out on you at the same time?”

She flinched. “One has nothing to do with the other.”

“How can you say that? He cheated on you the entire time you were together, Nyla. He’s cheated on every woman he’s ever dated.” The hurt that flashed across her face triggered a pang in his chest, but this was something that had bothered Aiden from the very beginning. “I still can’t figure out why you were ever with him in the first place. It’s common knowledge that Cameron has been a womanizer since birth.”

“I knew your brother had flaws when I started dating him, Aiden. Maybe I was naive to think he would give up his old habits once we got engaged, but all of that is beside the point. It doesn’t matter what Cameron was doing.” She pointed to her chest. “This is about what I did. Was I eventually grateful that I didn’t marry him after learning that he was still seeing other women? Of course I was. But that doesn’t erase the fact that I was unfaithful to him, as well.”

Aiden pitched his head back and groaned up at the ceiling. “You weren’t unfaithful. It was one kiss, Nyla.”

“It was more than just a kiss,” she whispered. “We both know that. If I hadn’t stopped us...”

An instant ache settled in his groin at the mention of that night. The memory of how close they had come to finally sleeping together was one he’d had to endure much too often these past three years.

It hadn’t been just about sex. He wasn’t the renowned ladies’ man his brother had been, but getting sex had never been a problem. It had been all about Nyla, about being with her in the most elemental way. They had been connected on an emotional level for months leading up to that night. He’d needed that physical connection.

“Does this mean we’re finally tackling the eight-hundred-pound gorilla?” Aiden asked.

She blew out a deep breath and dropped her forehead to her knees. “Please, Aiden. This is awkward enough as it is. Bringing that up will only complicate things.”

“Maybe it would do the exact opposite. You ever consider that? We’ve been tiptoeing around this ever since I found you on Facebook, Nyla. Think of how much simpler things would be if we just got everything out in the open.”

His skin tingled with expectancy as he waited for her response.

“You should try to get some sleep,” she said. “You’ve had a long day and we have a lot to see tomorrow.” She clicked off the bedside lamp and huddled back under the covers. She turned on her side, facing the opposite wall.

Aiden ran both hands down his face. He stared at her stiff form, highlighted by the moonlight streaming through the window.

Everything within him was clamoring for him to press her about this. The only reason he hadn’t brought it up in the past few months was that she could have simply stopped responding to him on Facebook. But she was here now. They could finally hash everything out, face-to-face.

But he couldn’t do it. Not yet. She would only clam up and go back to blaming herself.

Shaking his head, Aiden trudged over to his bed and slipped under the covers.

“Good night, Nyla,” he whispered into the stillness.

After several weighty moments, she answered, “Good night, Aiden.”

He turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, knowing sleep wasn’t about to come his way, not with Nyla lying just a few feet away from him. After several minutes passed he heard a slight snore coming from her side of the room, and couldn’t help the smile the sound brought to his lips.

What he wouldn’t give to crawl into that bed with her. To wrap his arms around her, pull her against him, feel the rhythm of her breaths as she slept soundly. He wanted to wake her up in the middle of the night and make love to her, the way he’d dreamed of doing for years. He wanted to keep her in this hotel room for the next two days and show her just how much they belonged together.

Instead Aiden turned onto his side and stared at the few snowflakes still falling softly outside the window. It wasn’t his ideal scenario, but at least he had this time with her right now. He would take what he could get.

Chapter 4

Aiden tried his best to maintain a stoic expression as he placed his knuckle underneath his chin and stared off into the distance.

“Would you stop it already?”

He looked over at Nyla, who’d plopped the hand that wasn’t holding the camera onto her hip.

“What? You don’t like my ‘thoughtful’ pose?” He gestured to the stone columns of the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina in the Roman Forum. “I’m channeling all the great minds that used to walk around this place. Can’t you see me and my man Julius Caesar shooting the breeze over a couple of beers?”

Nyla just stared at him, her face the picture of weary impatience, though her grin ruined it. It was the first smile he’d managed to extract from her today.

After the chilly atmosphere that had encompassed their hotel room this morning, even that small glimpse of a smile was enough to excite him. They’d tiptoed around each other, speaking in hushed monosyllables, the relaxed camaraderie from the night before nowhere to be found.

Aiden had been on the verge of apologizing for driving the uncomfortable wedge between them when Nyla spoke up, suggesting a moratorium on talk of anything that was too heavy. She wanted the day’s focus to be on the magic of Rome at Christmastime.

If he’d had the choice, he would rather they spend the day hashing out everything that was standing in the way of them being together. But Aiden knew better than to push her. If he pushed her, she would run.

Instead he’d agreed to go along with this charade. He would traipse around Rome with her, ignoring the discussion they must have, pretending that his life’s happiness wasn’t hanging in the balance.

“Okay, okay,” Aiden said, holding his hands up. “Maybe not a beer since I’ve never been a fan, but old Julius and I could talk over some iced tea.”

“Would you please behave?” Nyla asked.

Deciding to give her a break, he posed for several more pictures, amused at her seriousness behind the camera.

“Exactly how many shots does that digital camera hold?” Aiden asked.

“About four thousand,” Nyla called. She laughed when he dropped his head and groaned.

“Sorry, I guess I got a little carried away,” she said. “I dabbled in photography for a while. It’s been a long time since I had a human subject to shoot. I’ve mostly taken scenery.”

“Did you take those framed photos on the wall at your apartment?”

She nodded. “Back when I was in Paris. That city is a photographer’s paradise, professional or hobbyist.”

“I can only imagine. It’s on my list of must-sees before I return to the States.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, you must visit Paris while you’re here. It would be a shame not to.”

Aiden’s brow arched. “Are you volunteering to join me?”

The thought of venturing through the romantic streets of Paris with Nyla by his side, not as an old friend too afraid to admit her feelings for him, but as his woman, his lover, was the stuff of fantasies. What he wouldn’t give to make that a reality.

He took several steps forward, bringing himself within inches of her. He captured her hand and ran his thumb across her inner wrist. “What do you say, Nyla? Are you willing to show me around the City of Lights?”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth, then quickly returned to his eyes. She let out a deep breath and tugged her hand from his hold. “We should probably go.” She took a step back. “The lines to get into the Colosseum will be long.”

“Not until you answer my question.”

She shifted from one leg to the other, clearly uncomfortable. At the moment, he didn’t care.

“We agreed we wouldn’t do this,” she said in a small voice.

Yes, they had, but for the first time in his life, Aiden was going back on his word. He was tired of her pretending that he was the only one who had been affected by the attraction between them.

“I have a modification to our earlier agreement,” he said. “I’ll agree to put the conversation off while we’re in Rome, but you have to agree that we discuss it before I leave for Zurich, Nyla. I don’t want to go back to being just someone whose status you occasionally like on Facebook. I don’t know what I mean to you anymore, but you mean too much to me to continue on the way we have been.”

Her eyes slid closed. For the briefest second Aiden thought she would turn down his request, but then she said, “Okay.” She looked up at him. “But we wait until after Christmas.”

He nodded. “I’m holding you to that.”

She released a weary laugh. “I wouldn’t expect anything different.”

They made their way to the Colosseum, which was as magnificent as Aiden had imagined. As they stood in the line that wound its way around the massive structure, Nyla pointed out the grass-covered stone ring about twenty yards from the entrance and explained that it was where the gladiators who survived their turn in the arena would wash after their fight.

When they entered the arena, Aiden just stood there for a moment and took it all in.

“This is amazing,” he said. “I can’t imagine this place filled with people cheering on a match to the death.”

“It makes American football seem tame, doesn’t it?”

“Like child’s play,” Aiden agreed.

They trailed behind a tour group with an English-speaking tour guide, who pointed out the many statues that remained intact after nearly two thousand years.

Once they exited the Colosseum, Nyla suggested he take a picture underneath the famed Arch of Constantine, located just steps away from the ancient arena. This time Aiden insisted he be allowed to pose like a warrior coming home from battle.

Her carefree laughter as he struck pose after menacing pose solidified his decision not to bring up the past again today. She was right. This was supposed to be a fun day of sightseeing. Every time he tried to insert the past, Nyla pulled further away. That wasn’t why he’d brought her here. He didn’t want her running away from him. He wanted the exact opposite.

“We’re pretty much crisscrossing the city,” Nyla said. “But I’d rather try to see the Vatican today instead of waiting until tomorrow. We’ll come back to where we’ll have dinner tonight.”

Aiden gestured for her to lead the way. “After you, Madam Tour Guide.”

Nyla hailed a cab, and ten minutes later, they were standing outside the fortresslike walls that surrounded Vatican City.

Aiden started for the line that wrapped around the wall, but stopped when Nyla tugged his wrist.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Before we go inside, there’s something else we have to do.”

They crossed the street and stopped before a large plate-glass window. Behind the glass case inside were mountains—literally, they looked like tiny mountains—of ice cream.

“You’re joking right? It’s thirty-five degrees out here and you want me to eat ice cream?”

“Not ice cream, gelato. And I don’t care how cold it is, you cannot come to Italy and not have gelato.” She took him by the arm again and dragged him into the gelateria.

Aiden was baffled by the number of people waiting in line to buy gelato on such a cold day.

“I’ve had gelato before,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t get why people think it’s so special.”

“Just taste it,” Nyla said, handing him his cone. His eyes grew wide at his first taste of the rich, creamy dessert. She grinned. “Told you.”

“Yeah, so this is a lot better than ice cream,” he conceded. He followed Nyla to the counter that faced the street and sat on a bar stool that afforded them a view of the line of people entering the Vatican.

“And this isn’t even the best gelato I’ve had,” she said. “It’s pretty close, though.”

She ran her tongue along the rim of the cone, lapping up the rivulets from the already melting dessert.

Aiden couldn’t be sure, but it was a safe bet that he had never in his life gotten so hard so fast, at least not since he was twelve years old. He had to swerve the stool to the right just in case his sweater couldn’t fully conceal the erection that had sprung up at the sight of her tongue stroking that gelato.

“Mmm...” Nyla murmured, licking her lips. “There shouldn’t be something so sinfully good this close to the Vatican.” She held the cone out to him. “Want a taste?”

It was an innocent enough gesture, but in his current state of mind Aiden couldn’t help the barrage of erotic thoughts that suddenly crashed through him.

His eyes trained on Nyla, he leaned forward and took a taste of the sweet treat. “Mmm,” he said. “The best thing I’ve tasted in a long time.”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Her lips parted, then quickly closed as her eyes shot to his. Aiden held his cone out to her.

Nyla stared at it as if the gelato were forbidden fruit. “I’ve...uh...I’ve tried that flavor already,” she said.

A grin tipped up the corner of Aiden’s lips. “Try it again,” he encouraged in a low voice.

She glanced at the gelato, then at him. Aiden saw her chest lift as she pulled in a steadying breath before she leaned over and licked in the same spot he had.

He swallowed back a moan, though just barely.

The situation in his pants reached nuclear meltdown proportions, a hot ache gripping him as he studied the drop of chocolate cream that clung to the bow of her bottom lip. It took every ounce of restraint in his body not to lean forward and lick it off.

“Is it as good as you remember?” he asked, his voice so husky he could barely hear it.

Nyla’s gaze lowered once again to his lips. “Even better.”

To hell with fighting this.

Aiden leaned forward, preparing to fulfill the fantasy that had been on his mind all day. But before he could connect his mouth to hers, Nyla reared back and twisted her stool toward the window.

She pointed across the street. “We’d better get going before that line gets any longer.”

Aiden shut his eyes against the onslaught of lust that coursed through him. He nearly suggested they skip the tour; it seemed sacrilegious to enter into a holy place with such unholy thoughts flooding his mind.

The wait to get into the Vatican was longer than the one for the Colosseum, which was expected at this time of the year, but seeing the famed painted ceiling of the Sistine Chapel made it worth the wait.

They shuffled their way inside St. Peter’s Basilica, which Nyla explained was the length of two football fields. She pointed toward the massive tomb where St. Peter was buried. “Do you see that dove in the stained glass window past the altar? Its wingspan is seven feet.”

“No way,” Aiden said.

“Yes. And those letters up there,” she said, pointing to the Latin writing that ran the entire length of the basilica. “They are six feet tall.”

Aiden slowly shook his head. “Pictures do not do this justice. I can’t even put it into words.” He turned in a slow circle, completely awestruck. “A day and a half isn’t enough. I’ll have to come back here before I leave for the States.”

“You must,” she said. “There’s no way we’re going to get through all of Rome in one day.” Nyla’s brow arched. “Speaking of returning to Rome...” She reached into the shoulder bag she carried and pulled out a handful of coins. She took his hand and turned it, dropping them in his upturned palm. “You’re going to need these for where we’re going next.”

Aiden joggled the coins. “An arcade?”

Her eyes lit with knowing humor, she took him by the arm and turned for the basilica’s exit. “You’ll see.”

They hopped into another cab and crossed the Tiber River. When Nyla mentioned they were nearing the Mausoleum of Augustus, Aiden demanded they stop. He’d written a book report on the life of the first emperor of Rome back in grade school; he never imagined that he’d ever have the chance to see the burial place of the man who started the Roman Empire in person.

His eyes glued to the crumbling facade of the ancient tomb, Aiden rattled off facts that had stayed with him all this time. “Did you know he and Antony were friends before Cleopatra came into the picture?”

“Women.” Nyla tsked. “Causing men strife for thousands of years.”

“Tell me about it.” Aiden snorted, then laughed when she playfully slapped him on the arm. “Augustus is the reason I’ve never eaten figs. After I read that his wife killed him with poisoned figs, I decided I could go through life never eating them.”

Nyla’s head flew back with her laugh.

They continued on foot, walking south on Via del Corso. Nyla spotted a scarf shop and scuttled ahead of him to see if it was open. He took the time to drink in how good she looked in the snug-fitting sweater dress and calf-high heeled boots. She’d paired it with a cream coat that reached the hem of the dress. She’d always been fashionable, even when she wasn’t trying.

“They’re closed,” she said with a shrug.

“Maybe next time,” Aiden said.

She nodded and smiled. A ridiculous thrill shot through him at how open she seemed to there even being a next time.

They continued on down the heavily traveled street. Even though he couldn’t see where it was coming from, the gurgling rush of water and the chatter of what had to be dozens of people grew louder with every step they took. They turned left at another ancient building with stone columns, and a minute later, Trevi Fountain came into view.

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