street.
The arms didn’t let go as she expected. Aja struggled out of their grasp, turning around with a fierce glare. It was a young man with a wicked grin on his face.
“ Stai bene ?”
She brushed off her jeans and looked busy for a few seconds, to collect herself. She tucked her purse under her arm, said, “ grazie ,” - the only Italian word she knew - and moved away from him. He didn’t get the hint. He followed her, talking all the while.
Aja saw a cab and lunged for the curb, waving her arms like a lunatic. She’d narrowly escaped having her purse stolen and now she was being stalked by a handsome, but irritating man. Whatever had possessed her to think she could visit a foreign country on her own?
The cab pulled up to the curb. She grabbed the handle, pulled open the door, slid inside and slammed it so hard the cabbie jumped and looked back. The young man was at the door yammering at her and trying to open it.
“Drive!”
The cabbie put it into gear and stomped on the gas, just missing another car and a bus. Aja’s heart leapt into her throat and pounded as though it were trying to escape.
“ Dove ?” The cabbie asked her. “Where?” He added, probably used to tourists.
Aja gave him the name of her hotel and leaned back with a sigh. The mad race through the streets was nothing to what she’d just experienced. She had no idea what the man had been trying to tell her. It wasn’t until she reached her hotel room that it all became clear. She opened her purse to find her passport was missing. He was probably trying to give it back to her and she ran from him like a crazy person. Stupid, stupid Aja .
Chapter 12
The sun made the top of Aja’s head warm. She leaned back in the chair to let it hit her face. She sat outside a little bar in the town of Siena in Northern Italy. She’d seen advertisements for Siena while touring Rome, and decided that it was the perfect spot for her to spend a few weeks. While spectacular in many ways, Rome had been far too busy for her. The incident with the pickpocket and then the man she’d thought was stalking her was enough to send her to the hills. Although she’d gotten her passport back - the man had turned it in to the consulate - she still wanted to get away from the crowds. She’d spent only a few more days in Rome before renting a car and driving to the peaceful city of Siena.
Aja took a sip of espresso and felt her lips pucker. It was the only thing she recognized on the menu. It was fast becoming apparent that, no matter how charming the country, living in Italy without knowing how to speak Italian was going to present some challenges.
Just as she took another sip of the coffee, her arm was bumped and the cup dropped into her lap. Aja jumped up with a screech, her hands slapping at her crotch, trying to pluck the wet jeans away from her skin. She looked up with a glare, and met the same gorgeous pair of dark blue eyes she’d seen in Rome. His brows were crinkled in concentration. He didn’t seem to notice her at all.
Aja stared after him in shock, unable to believe his rudeness. “Of all the nerve,” she muttered to herself, trying to mop up with the thin napkins on the table. “What an arrogant...”
Antonio, the owner of the bar, walked up and stood in front of Aja’s table, a concerned look on his face. He wiped his hands on his stained apron.
The bar was close to her hotel, and Aja had met Antonio on her first day in Siena. She’d found herself visiting there several times a day, and so enjoyed the quaint liveliness, that she had soon become one of his regulars. The first time she’d met him, he’d spoken to her in Italian, thinking she was a native.
“ Buongiorno. Che cosa desidera ?”
Aja shrugged her shoulders. She said the only phrase she knew in Italian. “ Non parlo italiano .” He looked surprised. Everyone seemed to think of her as a native -
The arms didn’t let go as she expected. Aja struggled out of their grasp, turning around with a fierce glare. It was a young man with a wicked grin on his face.
“ Stai bene ?”
She brushed off her jeans and looked busy for a few seconds, to collect herself. She tucked her purse under her arm, said, “ grazie ,” - the only Italian word she knew - and moved away from him. He didn’t get the hint. He followed her, talking all the while.
Aja saw a cab and lunged for the curb, waving her arms like a lunatic. She’d narrowly escaped having her purse stolen and now she was being stalked by a handsome, but irritating man. Whatever had possessed her to think she could visit a foreign country on her own?
The cab pulled up to the curb. She grabbed the handle, pulled open the door, slid inside and slammed it so hard the cabbie jumped and looked back. The young man was at the door yammering at her and trying to open it.
“Drive!”
The cabbie put it into gear and stomped on the gas, just missing another car and a bus. Aja’s heart leapt into her throat and pounded as though it were trying to escape.
“ Dove ?” The cabbie asked her. “Where?” He added, probably used to tourists.
Aja gave him the name of her hotel and leaned back with a sigh. The mad race through the streets was nothing to what she’d just experienced. She had no idea what the man had been trying to tell her. It wasn’t until she reached her hotel room that it all became clear. She opened her purse to find her passport was missing. He was probably trying to give it back to her and she ran from him like a crazy person. Stupid, stupid Aja .
Chapter 12
The sun made the top of Aja’s head warm. She leaned back in the chair to let it hit her face. She sat outside a little bar in the town of Siena in Northern Italy. She’d seen advertisements for Siena while touring Rome, and decided that it was the perfect spot for her to spend a few weeks. While spectacular in many ways, Rome had been far too busy for her. The incident with the pickpocket and then the man she’d thought was stalking her was enough to send her to the hills. Although she’d gotten her passport back - the man had turned it in to the consulate - she still wanted to get away from the crowds. She’d spent only a few more days in Rome before renting a car and driving to the peaceful city of Siena.
Aja took a sip of espresso and felt her lips pucker. It was the only thing she recognized on the menu. It was fast becoming apparent that, no matter how charming the country, living in Italy without knowing how to speak Italian was going to present some challenges.
Just as she took another sip of the coffee, her arm was bumped and the cup dropped into her lap. Aja jumped up with a screech, her hands slapping at her crotch, trying to pluck the wet jeans away from her skin. She looked up with a glare, and met the same gorgeous pair of dark blue eyes she’d seen in Rome. His brows were crinkled in concentration. He didn’t seem to notice her at all.
Aja stared after him in shock, unable to believe his rudeness. “Of all the nerve,” she muttered to herself, trying to mop up with the thin napkins on the table. “What an arrogant...”
Antonio, the owner of the bar, walked up and stood in front of Aja’s table, a concerned look on his face. He wiped his hands on his stained apron.
The bar was close to her hotel, and Aja had met Antonio on her first day in Siena. She’d found herself visiting there several times a day, and so enjoyed the quaint liveliness, that she had soon become one of his regulars. The first time she’d met him, he’d spoken to her in Italian, thinking she was a native.
“ Buongiorno. Che cosa desidera ?”
Aja shrugged her shoulders. She said the only phrase she knew in Italian. “ Non parlo italiano .” He looked surprised. Everyone seemed to think of her as a native -
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