Falcon's Angel by Danita Minnis

Words seemed trivial when wet, half-naked perfection stood before her.
    “Where’s that big frying pan you have?” English again, he must know she needed it now. He was watching her and she realized his English words meant he wanted something.
    Angelina spurred into action, bending down to the cabinet under the island to retrieve the pan. She held out the recipe.
    “Put that in a safe place. I’m going to make my Shrimp Capri for you.”
    She was soon sitting on a stool, sipping a glass of Chianti from the Tuscan valley.
    Tony added olives, capers, and hot peppers to the frying pan and then turned the stirrer over to her.
    There was something very peaceful and satisfying in this task of cooking, which would have seemed mundane to her if not for Tony. This awareness caught in her throat, and she realized how attached she was becoming to him.
    Rome had been good for her, as Tony had known it would be. He knew her, what she needed. He was becoming essential. He was her confidante, her bodyguard, her study partner.
    “I’ll be leaving in a few days.”
    She stopped stirring the sauce, but kept her eyes on the pan. You have no right to be disappointed .
    But she was, especially because he’d gotten them separate rooms at the hotel in Rome. He’d been such a gentleman. The trip had been just for fun, for her.
    Tony had a life of his own, and he was just a friend who’d been very nice to show a new student around the city this past month. But it still felt as if she was losing her best friend.
    “Back to Tuscany?” she asked.
    He nodded. “My friend’s lease ran out, so I’ve got to leave.”
    “In the middle of the semester? What about your classes?”
    “I’ll have to commute to the city.”
    She took a sip from her glass.
    Tony would only be in Naples for three days of the week when he commuted. He didn’t have as many classes as she did. They wouldn’t be able to practice together and she would not have his company on the weekends anymore.
    The naughty muse on her shoulder pointed out that he was an excellent kisser, and though his kisses were too few and far between, she would miss them very much.
    She spoke before the resident of her other shoulder, the practical muse, could change her mind. “You know, there’s plenty of room here. I mean, you’re welcome to share my apartment, if you’d like.”
    Tony turned on the faucet and washed his hands. “How long is your lease?”
    Angelina blinked. “Well, um, for as long as I want, I guess.”
    “How did you get Signor Parisi to agree to that?”
    With lots of money. From the look on Tony’s face, she must have given the wrong answer. I’m supposed to be living off a student’s allowance. How much should that be?
    “Actually, it is month-to-month, yes, that’s right,” she said. “I forgot what Signor Parisi and I had agreed upon.”
    Tony picked up a handful of shrimp and added it to the pan, but his eyes were on her. “Poor Franco gets kicked out of his apartment the first week of September, and here you are with Signor Parisi wrapped around your little finger.”
    She added garlic to the frying pan. When he put a hand over hers to bring the stirring to a halt, she looked up.
    “You would let me stay here, with you?” His eyes warmed her, like a blanket she wanted to root under.
    She began to stir the sauce again. “If no one will mind.”
    Tony chuckled, a deep rumble that cooked her insides. He wrapped an arm around her waist. “No one will mind, Angel. It will be just until the semester is over.” He kissed the top of her head. “Who is the savior now?”
    She giggled, and kept her eyes on the pan.

Chapter Five
    Angelina picked up a wristwatch wedged between the sofa cushions.
    Tony had been looking for it this morning and had finally left without it for a jog around the square.
    His music sheets and schoolbooks were piled alongside hers on the coffee table in the living room, which had been transformed into his bedroom. His clothes