“Eighty-five,” he answered. “I can’t believe it either.”
“Well, he sure knows how to bake a cake.” I set the plate of half-eaten cake on the table and cut myself off. “If I eat anymore, I won’t be able to fit into my clothes anymore.”
He chuckled. “You can eat whatever you want. You look beautiful no matter what.”
I looked up at him with a skeptical look, surprised he would say something so sweet. He had a strict preference when it came to the models that wore his lingerie. I thought if I gained even a pound, I would be criticized for it. “I thought I had to stay a certain size.”
“You aren’t on the runway anymore. You can do whatever you want.”
“Watch what you say…I’ll go on an eating spree and never stop.”
He pressed his face close to mine, not caring about the look his surrounding family gave us. “Go ahead, Muse.” He rubbed his nose against mine. “I’ll still want to fuck you just the same.” He kept his voice at a whisper so no one would overhear his words. Then he pulled away and took another drink of his wine.
Vanessa was watching us from across the table. “Mom, Dad, you know what Conway calls Sapphire?”
Mrs. Barsetti swirled her wine before she took a drink. “What?”
“Muse,” Vanessa said. “I heard him say it before we got in the car.”
I felt my cheeks redden instantly because the nickname was so intimate. He’d started calling me that when we first met. I’d only heard him say my birth name once or twice. To others, it might just be a nickname. But that was the name he whispered when he was between my legs. It was the name he said when he commanded me to please him. It was the name he used to possess me.
Mr. Barsetti shifted his gaze to his son and studied him with a reserved expression. His thoughts were nearly impossible to see because he hid them behind a calculated gaze. He never smiled. When he greeted his kids, he showed them affection. But a smile never broke across his lips.
Mrs. Barsetti gave him an entirely different look. It was soft, touched with a hint of a smile.
Just like the last time he was put on the spot, Conway didn’t squirm. There was nothing that anyone could say to make him uncomfortable in his own skin. He knew exactly who he was, and he wasn’t ashamed of that truth. He was a lingerie designer—and I was his ultimate inspiration. “Yes, she’s my obsession.” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed the back of my knuckles.
Now I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my lips. I couldn’t stop my eyes from softening. The second his warm lips touched my skin, I felt a shiver run down my spine. As with any other time he touched me, my body came to life. Even in front of his family, the feeling couldn’t be restrained.
Mrs. Barsetti leaned toward her husband then whispered something in this ear.
His expression still didn’t change.
Vanessa rose from her chair, carrying her glass of wine. “Well, I like you better when your obsession is around. So you better keep her, Con.”
He held my hand on his thigh and squeezed it. “I will.”
* * *
Vanessa and I sat at the edge of the pool with our feet dangling in the water. We shared a bottle of red wine and listened to the crickets chirp into the night. The stars were bright overhead because the lights from Florence were too far away. It was such a peaceful place, reminding me of the home I shared with Conway.
“My parents got married under that tree.” Vanessa pointed to a mighty oak tree away from the patio. “At least, that’s what I’ve been told.”
“That’s nice.”
“It was a small wedding with just a few people.” She pointed to a different tree. “We used to have a tire swing that hung from that branch, but a bad storm came through and snapped it off the trunk. We never got another one.”
“I wonder what Conway looked like as a boy.”
“There’s pictures all over the house. You’ll see them.” She kept drinking, on her sixth or seventh glass, but she didn’t seem affected by the alcohol.
“You guys really know how to carry your liquor. I used to be a bartender, and so many people tip over after a few drinks.”
“The Barsettis were made to drink,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve seen my father drink wine for breakfast. He usually drinks scotch in the evenings. I’m not a fan of it. Wine has so much more flavor.”
I remembered Conway mentioning that. “Conway drinks scotch too.”
“Yeah, he’s a younger version of my father. Sometimes I get them confused from behind.”
I saw a lot of the same qualities among all of the men. Mr. Barsetti seemed to be the silent patriarch of the entire family. He ruled quietly, but his power was felt. The way Conway described him was dead on.