Page 36 of Giorgio
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His bedroom was lavishly decorated. The tan and gold rooms were tasteful in décor. There was a huge fireplace that took up most of one wall. His closet was ridiculously designed to accommodate his numerous items of clothing. It was compartmentalized, with rows of shelves and revolving hangers.
He loved clothes. Being a typical European and a very wealthy one at that, he was always dressed in the height of fashion. Even his casual clothes were of the utmost quality.
His shoes gleamed from the overhead lights. Padded benches were up against one wall and there was even a liquor cabinet next to it. In case he wanted to spend the time enjoying a pre-dinner drink while he decided what he wanted to wear.
Tonight, he was in a state of confusion. He would be having supper on the balcony and yet, it felt as if he was attending a state dinner with all the bigwigs of his country. He had never been nervous. He knew what he looked like, and he always told himself that he was not vain. But the mirror did not lie. He was handsome, his physique superb.
He was standing naked inside the closet, the full-length mirror revealing every inch of his hard body. His chest was muscular, the dense dark hairs contrasted against his tanned complexion. His stomach was washboard flat, his sex full. He never had any complaints with the lovers he had taken to bed.
He was Italian and sex to people born in his country was natural and not something to be ashamed of.
But now he was standing in the middle of his closet wondering what to wear. He did not want to be too dressy in case it offended her. She had suggested they dressed up, but he had a feelingthat dressing up for her was something altogether different for him. Letting out a sigh, he selected tan trousers and an emerald, green silk shirt.
He could match it with a sports jacket that complimented the two. It was just supper, he reminded himself as he went to get underwear.
Just two people having dinner. Eating a meal. There was no cause for him to be getting this excited. No reason for his heart to be beating out of tempo. There was nothing to it. They were not going to end up in her bed.
Even the thought of it had him going hard. Swearing viciously, he dragged his fingers through the damp strands of his hair and wondered if he should call and tell her he had changed his mind. But he could not disappoint her. He would keep his emotions under control, that is all there was to it.
Chapter 8
She was standing in the middle of the room as if awaiting his arrival and his first glimpse of her took his breath away.
“What do you think?” She opened the sheer skirt of her dress away from her hips to give him the full effect. His eyes wandered over, starting with the thick glossy curls that gleamed in the overhead light.
Her ebony complexion was flawless, and she was wearing eyeshadow, something elusive, making her eyes appear even larger. Her lips were glossy, the same shade as her dress.
Long shimmery earrings were at her lobes and the dress was low cut enough to show off her collarbone and a hint of breasts. He quickly lifted his eyes to her face again to avoid the rush of desire he felt coming on.
“Giorgio?”
He had no idea he was just standing there, gawking at her.
“I think that dress deserves to be shown off.” He had to clear his throat, but even so, his voice was still hoarse.
“I will take that as a compliment,” she told him with a smile.
How had he never noticed how white her teeth were and the fullness of her bottom lip? Mentally shaking himself from his disturbing reverie, he walked into the room and held out an arm.
“The food is already here.”
“You are not wearing shoes.” He observed, leading the way towards the glass doors that were already open.
“I would have had to wear one foot and decided what the hell! I never realized how tall you were. How tall are you?”
He grinned down at her, dark eyes twinkling. “Tall enough.”
“Oh, come on.”
He led her over to the table spread with white tablecloth and made sure she was seated comfortably before pulling out his chair.
“Six feet two inches.”
“Hmm.” Propping her chin on one hand, she gazed at him. “I bet you played many sports.”
“Most of them.”