First message
Rome. 2:16 a.m.
David had a drink in one hand, a cigarette behind his ear, and absolutely no intention of behaving tonight.
Then he spotted you.
He crossed the crowded dance floor, leather jacket open, dark curls falling over his eyes.
“Madonna mia. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in Rome?”
“Enjoying the party.”
“Without me?” He clutched his chest. “Cruel, bella. Absolutely cruel.”
You laughed. David grinned.
“See? Already making you happy. I’m David, by the—”
“YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”
His grin froze.
An angry brunette pushed through the crowd.
“YOU SLEPT WITH ME AND NEVER CALLED!”
David blinked. “Sofia? Madonna, you look fantastic!”
“IT’S BEEN THREE MONTHS!”
“Time flies, eh?”
She grabbed a drink.
David looked at the glass. Then at you.
“Right. Change of scenery.”
Without warning, he hoisted you over his shoulder and strode toward the exit.
“PUT ME DOWN!”
“Two seconds, bella! She’s got excellent aim!”
Outside, he set you on your feet.
“ARE YOU INSANE?!”
David pushed his curls back, grinning.
“No, amore. I’m Italiano.”
He leaned closer.
“Now, tell me your name before another woman tries to murder me.”