Read Online My Front Page Scandal by Carrie Alexander - Free Book Online Page B

hitched at the end. He rested his cheek alongside her head and was about to speak. She felt the importance of his next words in the swell of his chest. But the bell clanged and the door opened for three men in police uniform, working the late shift. The mood broke at their cheerful bluster and the blast of cool air.
    Brooke roused herself. “I’m convinced. The calories don’t count in Italian. Give me one of everything.”
    David laughed and asked the clerk for an assortment. They took their coffees and a platter of pastries to one of the small café tables lined up at the front of the bakery. Huddled together over its marble top, they sipped the hot coffee and sampled sumptuous bites, chatting about anything that came to mind until the plate was almost cleared.
    Brisk caffeine cut through Brooke’s sugar daze as she savored her latte. “The Bridge of Sighs, the most romantic spot in Venice to a fifteen-year-old girl. I was in love with the name alone. Too bad my father’s glare scared off the cute Italian boys.”
    “Did you get whistled at?”
    “And pinched. And cupped. I was sheltered. The overt approach came as quite a shock.”
    “Cupped, huh?”
    She ran her tongue along the lip of her cup. “In various places.”
    “Places I’d like to visit,” he said with dancing eyes, before adding, in all seriousness, “The Charles River at sunset. If I’d had time, I would have taken you out onto the water.”
    “On a Duck boat?” She shook her head over the ubiquitous tourist conveyances, which most of his teammates had ridden in the Red Sox victory parade. “Or a sailboat?”
    “Speedboat.”
    “Hmm. I should have guessed. You have a consistent need for speed.”
    “Don’t you?”
    “I’m more the sailing type.” She’d forgotten again that she was supposed to be playing a woman who dared. “But I’m willing to experiment. Um, this plain tarallo is good. Not so sugary.”
    David scooped up a dollop of the yellow custard from a lobster tail and extended his finger toward her. “Here, try the sweet stuff.”
    Staring into his eyes, she closed her mouth over his finger and licked the custard in short strokes, gently flicking his fingertip with her tongue until it was clean. They leaned closer, their foreheads almost touching. Beneath the table, their knees pressed. He shifted, tangling their legs and feet, then their fingers. Tiny shocks of sensation scattered across her skin, like mini-fireworks. She couldn’t catch a solid breath.
    “La vita dolce con una donna dolce,” he whispered.
    She knew enough Italian to translate a couple phrases. Sweet life, sweet woman.
    “Is that what you’re doing in retirement?” she asked, to deflect the sexual tension just a bit. Her heart was pounding too hard. “Living the sweet life?”
    “Bittersweet at best,” he admitted.
    She remembered the bible verse that had been read at her mother’s funeral.
    “Everything has its season. You’ll find yours again, I’m certain.”
    “At this point, short-term pleasures are all that I expect.” With his gaze pinned to her face, he dipped to place small kisses on each of her fingertips.
    “Come back to my hotel.”
    She wanted to. So very much. The Lindsay voice urged her to say yes. Yet she hesitated, and wasn’t sure why. Although she’d been a careful, considering soul for all of her life, it wasn’t as if she’d never experienced instant lust, or gone to bed with a man after only a few dates.
    Perhaps the explanation for her hesitation was simple. Trying on a daringly different identity wasn’t as easy as putting on a new dress.
    But what if it was?
    What if, just for once, she let herself go without worrying about the consequences?
    Go with him, said the voice. Dare.
    Brooke shut her eyes. Leaped. “All right.”
    David hadn’t expected that. He pulled back in surprise. “All right?”
    She nodded. “Let’s go.”
    “I’M SORRY ABOUT THAT,” he said, after pressing the elevator button for the