Read Online Italian Passion by Jayne Castel - Free Book Online Page B

different kind that
was building between them.
    “Really?” he raised an eyebrow back
at her. “It looked like you were drowning to me?”
    “I hope we don’t catch some horrible
disease from the water.”
    Max chuckled at that, taking a step
closer so that Faye had to raise her face slightly to meet his gaze. “Venice’s
canals are a lot cleaner than they used to be,” he replied with a smile. “I
think we’ll both be fine. Do you think I’d have jumped in after you if I
thought I’d pick up cholera?”
    “So it wasn’t a gallant act after
all?” Faye bristled, her face heating further. “There was me thinking…”
    She never finished her sentence, for
his mouth came down, hard, upon hers, silencing the rest of her protest.
    Faye should have pushed him away, and
slapped him again for his presumption, but a rush of heat between them shoved
all rational thought from her mind. Her stomach leapt, as if she were on a
swing.
    She kissed him back, her mouth
opening under his. Her hands roamed over his sodden t-shirt, exploring the
contours of his chest. Max’s hands ran up and down the length of her back; his
hands tangling in her wet hair. He pulled her hard against him, and the
remnants of Faye’s self-control snapped. She wound herself around him and
pressed her body against his. Max groaned low in his throat and kissed her
deeply, exploring her mouth with his tongue.
    When they broke apart, Faye’s heart
was thumping against her ribs. They were both breathless.
    Max gave a soft, shaky laugh and
stepped back from her. Then, he reached out and gently took hold of her hands.
    “I’d better keep my distance,” he
gasped. “If I kiss you again, I won’t be able to stop.”
    Faye stared back at him, momentarily
rendered speechless by the passion that had exploded between them. Her body
felt boneless and weak. She only just prevented herself from throwing herself
into his arms.
    What’s wrong with me? I hate him,
don’t I?
    “We… I … should go back to my hotel,”
she stuttered. “It’s not a good idea to stand around in wet clothes.”
    Max nodded, his face suddenly turning
serious.
    “Listen Faye – this has been the most
surprising day of my life. I don’t want it to end. Let me show you that I
really am sorry. Let’s redo that interview – and this time you can ask me
anything you want.”
    “Really?” Faye’s mouth curved into a
tentative smile. “When?”
    “How about this evening? I’ll escort
you back to your hotel and then I’ll go home and get changed. How about if I
come back to collect you in an hour? There’s a bar not for from the Arsenale where we can go for a drink. Bring your Dictaphone and your notebook and we’ll
redo the interview from scratch.”
    Faye searched his face, and saw only
honesty and boyish hope in his eyes. She guessed it had been a long time since
he had made himself vulnerable with a woman. It was her undoing; she could not
have refused him if she had tried.
    “That sounds like a good idea Max.
Let’s do that. My hotel’s near St. Mark’s Square. I’m completely lost though.
Is it far from here?”
    Max looped her arm through his and
steered her back the way they had come.
    “It’s about five minutes’ walk,” he
replied with a smile, “not far at all.”
    They walked in silence for a moment
before Max glanced her way, his gaze hopeful. “If you’d like we can visit some
of the Biennale exhibitions tomorrow. There’s some incredible artwork on
display in churches and galleries throughout Venice. I’d like to be your
personal guide.”
    “I’d like that,” Faye replied, before
giving him a teasing smile. “But won’t I distract you from your art?”
    Max laughed, recognising the excuse
he had thrown at her earlier that day. “I can’t believe I said that. What a
conceited idiot.”
    “You certainly did say it,
vehemently,” Faye grinned. She liked that he allowed her to tease him.
    “Sometimes,” Max said leaning over
and kissing