Entangle Me – Amalfi Coast Excerpt

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Without warning, the sudden impact hits me. Just like a speeding car heading out of a drive way, I’ve crashed into someone.

The mystery victim stumbles back. I look downwards and I see a toned chest beneath a tight grey t-shirt. The sleeves gripping tanned, lean arms.

Mi scusi, non ho fatto vedere a voi …”
That voice. It’s deep, hypnotic and lush.
“I’m so sorry—” I keep my eyes glued to the floor, trying to avoid looking at him. Given the way his voice sounded, I don’t even want to imagine how his face looks.

I sense him looking at me, and I’m all too aware that I don’t have a bra on. To think I slammed into his chest with my breasts covered in only my thin shirt. Hesitantly, I look up at this mystery man with the unbelievably suggestive voice.

He’s gorgeous; his face is even more pleasant than his voice. Olive skin, wide and hypnotic jade eyes, tousled honey coloured hair are the first things I noticed. The perfect scattering of blond stubble on his square jawline set off his full, bee-stung lips. This is the face of an angel, a Botticelli angel. If he was a half a foot taller he could easily be a model, but he only stands a few inches taller than me.  Okay, why am I checking out a complete stranger? This is wrong!
“Don’t be sorry, bella.” His English is as fluent as his Italian.

Words are not coming out of my mouth right now.
Qual è il tuo nome? Your name?”
My mind draws a blank. My name, my name… How can I not know the answer to this?
“Lacey.” I smile weakly at him thankful my brain hasn’t suddenly dissolved to the mental capacity of a two-year-old.

He takes a lingering glance at me, stopping short of my décolletage once again making me conscious that I’m not wearing a bra. What a sleaze! With an impish grin on his face, he starts to move backwards and turns towards the hall.
“Ciao, signorina Lacey”, is all he says as he walks down the corridor without looking back at me. The way he says my name, the way it rolls off his tongue and pronounces it is sexy.
Get a grip Lacey, it’s just a cute guy.
I’m That Wedding Girl – give me a sixty guest wedding in a foreign country to plan any day. But having a thirty second conversation with a tanned lothario?

That’s something I don’t have much experience in.

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