Wild One

Nine

Manon

Niccolò drives me home. Well, his driver takes me home. He sits in the back with

me. He feels larger than life beside me, his jacket on my shoulders, his dress shirt open two buttons giving a glimpse of his smooth chest.

His tie is undone, but still, perfectly arranged on either side of his undone collar.

His strong jaw takes up most of his profile and he looks out the window, his Roman nose the only other distinguishable feature.

He's so... he's a f*****g wet dream, and I have no doubt his body is even better bare.

This is as relaxed as I've seen him and it's clear to see by his perpetually clenched jaw that something plagues him with every resting moment.

I ache to discover his demons. What keeps him so stoic? Even though he smiles, they are all tainted. Something seems to paint his smiles a blue.

A woman? Did he have his heart broken? Maybe he just misses his family. Whatever it is, it seems serious.

His phone rings, making my eyes dart away from his profile.

"Ciao?"

"Sì, lo so ... Beh, se è così, ci arriverò presto. Adesso?

(Yes, I do know about-Well if that's the case I'll be there soon. Now?)

He looks at me. ""Ho compagnia, non lo farò."

(I have company, that will not do. )

"Lei non ha quella autorizzazione. La porterò a casa prima. A presto."

(She doesn't have that clearance. I'll take her home first. See you soon.)

He puts down his phone, saying something to his driver in Italian. The next thing I know, we're at my house. The driver parks, and he gets out, opening the door for me.

He walks me to the door, and smiles at me softly under the moonlight.

"Do you feel better, pulcino?"

My face heats, and I look away. "Yes, thank you, Niccolô."

"It was my pleasure, Manon."

My whole body heats now. He rarely calls my name, usually, he just calls me pulcino.

But I find that his accent caresses every syllable in my name, making it sound so seductive coming from his lips.

"I have to get going, but I wish you sweet dreams."

I look up at him, as he smiles down at me. Even now, his smile is tinged with sorrow. Still, I can help but notice that he smiles at me.

That I know of. I remind myself how little I know of this man, and how much he's lied to me in the short time I did know him.

"Well, goodnight, Manon."

I shiver as he says my name. "Good night, Niccoló."

"Oh, wait," I call out to him. He stops, turning around. "Your jacket."

He smiles again, stopping me from taking the oversized suit jacket off my shoulders.

"Keep it for me, until we meet again."

I turn to open my door, in a daze. But not deep enough to overlook the fact that he didn't leave until the door was shut behind me.

Chivalry lives on.