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“Only because I don’t think you can handle it.”
“I can handle it.”
A smirk tipped my lips. “Which is why you’re sitting over there bitching about it.”
He started to speak, then stopped, started again and stopped, then shook his head, stood, and returned to the last row of seats, mumbling to himself about arrogant assholes who thought they knew everything.
I pulled out my tablet and sent an encrypted message to Reuben, asking him to arrange for rings to be delivered to us in Venice. While I was loath to admit it, Cal did have a point. We could sell our relationship without the props, but they’d lend a certain amount of legitimacy to our claim.
And maybe, in some very small, very dark, unexplored corner of my heart, I wanted to claim Cal in some way.
Even if it wasn’t permanent.
Even if it was just pretend.
Cal pouted for the rest of the flight and didn’t speak to me again until we touched down on a private airstrip just outside Venice.
“Do you know what this Carlo guy looks like?” he asked, grabbing his duffel and hitching it high on his shoulder. He must have stowed the file at some point because he was no longer brandishing it like a weapon.
“Oh, you’re talking to me again?”
“Shut up, Jack.”
“And that right there is why I think this cover isn’t going to work.” The words were mumbled from the side of my mouth, only for Cal’s ears as we stepped into the terminal. I wasn’t sure who was around. Maybe some of Reuben’s paranoia was rubbing off on me.
“What?” he hissed back. “You’re the one provoking me.”
As we rounded the corner into the area where family members or staff could wait to retrieve their arriving passengers, I grabbed Cal’s hand and twined our fingers together.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He glanced down at our hands.
“We’re supposed to be in love, remember? This is our honeymoon.”
He rolled his eyes, and I squeezed his fingers tighter when he tried to pull away. Like every time I touched Cal, heat zinged from the point of contact and pooled deep in my belly, and I tried to ignore it.
For a private airport, there were a surprising number of people waiting, and I scanned the area looking for anyone who might be holding a sign with our names or Reuben’s. Cal kept tugging at my hand, trying to get me to let go. Stopping abruptly, I pulled him into me, and for reasons I couldn’t explain, I brought my lips down on his when he opened his mouth to say something.
For a second, nothing happened, and then the world fell away, the universe narrowed to the feeling of Cal’s soft mouth framed by stubble against mine. Since I’d caught him in a moment where his lips were already parted, I teased them with my tongue. Cal whimpered and kissed me back, his mouth sliding over mine.
Sparks danced along my skin as the kiss lasted for one heartbeat, then another, and another. I expected Cal to bite me, but his lips stayed pliant and soft. The kiss felt so incredibly right, and the voice occupying that dark little corner of my heart spoke up whisperingmine,mine,mine.
And apparently, the word also slipped out of my mouth, pressed against Cal’s lips.
He pulled back too fast and looked at me with wide eyes like I’d sprouted a second head during the moments we’d been kissing. “What?”
Before I could respond, a throat cleared next to us. “Uh, signori, are you friends of Signore Reuben Machas, no?”
Using my grip on his hand to keep him right where he was, I leaned in close, trying to ignore his dizzying cedar, rainwater, and driftwood scent as I whispered in his ear. “I don’t think anyone will doubt our story now.”
Cal shuddered and closed his eyes, and it settled something inside me to know he was as affected by the impromptu kiss as I was. While Cal and I had hooked up plenty of times before, we’d avoided kissing. Now I understood why. If I could, I would have spent the rest of my life kissing him. I’d had a feeling he’d put a hand on my chest and push me away, but I kept his fingers intertwined with mine, and he’d let me.
Turning to face the man who had interrupted us, I said, “Yes. I am Jack Harper, and this is my husband, Calvin Smith.” I laughed when Cal’s gaze swung my way, his eyes wide and mouth slack. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I guess it’s Calvin Harper now, isn’t it?”
Cal’s shocked expression dissolved, his jaw clenching and his eyes narrowing on me, trying to incinerate me on the spot, so, just because I knew it would annoy him, I pecked a kiss on his cheek. His skin went red, from either anger or embarrassment, and he started to open his mouth, no doubt to say something that would blow our cover, but the man interrupted.
“Ah, sì. I am Carlo with the Palazzo Venezia.” He pointed to the gold, embossed name tag pinned to his lightweight blue sweater. He was younger than I assumed one of Reuben’s informants and contacts would be—probably in his late twenties—with dark hair, dark brown eyes, and a Roman nose that appeared a little too large for his face. Judging by his scent,he was some sort of bird shifter. He offered a hand, and I shook it, letting go of Cal’s for a quick second so he could also shake hands with Carlo. The second their handshake was over, I grabbed Cal’s hand again, ignoring the mutinous glare he shot my way, and I saw Carlo track the motion, luckily paying more attention to the small public display of affection than Cal’s glower. “Apologies for my tardiness, but traffic was a bit heavy.”
“It’s not a problem. We were only waiting a few minutes.”
