Free Full Moon in Florence by KC Martin

top. He had stamina. Laine had seemed satisfied the last time. Would she be now, he wondered? Would there be a next time? Maybe she hadn’t been affected this time. Unlike Colin, who’d had to restrain himself in the elevator. He’d wanted to lean over and kiss her. Get that first kiss over with so he could get on with the second, the one with which he could slide his tongue against hers, probe deeply to taste her nuances…
    He touched himself as he thought of this missed kiss, but then he stopped, feeling stupid for having botched that opportunity, for not knowing how he’d handle the next one, if there was going to be a next one.
    Frustrated, his partial erection softened and he climbed into the tub. The warm water enveloped him, calmed his worries, wrapped him in hopeful possibility. He couldn’t just leave without giving it one more try. If things didn’t go well tomorrow, at dinner, he could always leave the next day.

    Laine

    After showering, Laine flipped open her laptop and typed in the wifi password, amore vero . She sighed, feeling let down. And then, listed among several emails from Tina and one from Mark, she saw a message from Colin about dinner. Her spirits lifted. But he’d sent it before their unexpected brief encounter this evening.
    Welcome to Florence, Mia Bella. I can’t wait to see you again, to look into your beautiful eyes, to see you smile. Dinner at Giammo’s at 8 .
    She wondered if he still felt the same way after tonight. In his message, he offered to pick her up or meet her at the restaurant, not knowing at the time that they were both booked in at the same hotel. How had that happened? Out of all of the hotels in Florence? Some force seemed to be aiding their reunion, and yet why wasn’t it helping to open her heart, to embolden her romantically, to give her the courage, the guts to step out of her polite, gentle demeanor and give in to the primal magnetism she felt toward Colin? Because she did feel it. It was in that current of heat between them as they walked. It was trapped inside her longing heart as if by a fence of barbed wire woven of fear. Why couldn’t Fate take care of those details, too?
    Her last email from Tina contained the details for her meeting with Lorenzo Montrecetti the following afternoon. Sighing, Laine was reminded that work was her first priority on this trip.

Chapter 9

    Laine

    The Montrecetti palazzo was just off the Piazza Pitti not far from the Boboli Gardens. Laine left herself lots of time to walk, this time with a map, across the Ponte Vecchio over to Oltrarno, the neighbourhood “across the Arno”. She was scheduled to meet Lorenzo Montrecetti, one of two grandsons executing the division of their deceased grandfather, Umberto’s estate. A very small and little known Boticelli wood panel painting was among its treasures. Lorenzo Montrecetti, or rather his assistant, had called the Fine Arts Coalition in San Francisco to see if they’d be interested in acquiring it. Of course, they’d jumped at the rare opportunity.
    The grand Montrecetti home was fronted by an exterior loggia. Finding the portico proved a bit difficult. Eventually, Laine came across a very old, ornately carved door with a massive brass lion head knocker. She reached out to lift it and then saw a buzzer button with the name Montrecetti next to it. She pushed the button.
    “Bonjourno,” said an intercom voice. Laine gave her name.
    “Entrato.”
    The large door clicked and she leaned against it, her hand pressing on the large knob in the center of the door, which gave way under her pressure. She stepped into a cool arched walkway. About thirty feet ahead of her, the walkway opened onto a large courtyard. In the center was a massive marble fountain with three fat cherubs floating around what looked like a female angel, sumptuously robed. Laine walked closer to inspect the sculpture. She marvelled at the skill that had crafted stone to look like flowing fabric. The water burbled