ONE ITALIAN LOVE

- Chapter 11 -

So much for truce...

Waking up to the sound of her alarm ringtone didn't bother Bianca. It invigorated her. Why? Because she knew that if she wanted her plan to succeed - and pay Signore Toscana back for what he had coming - she had to work smart.

5:00 am was the perfect moment to disturb her new neighbor. She was used to the hour. He most certainly was not - especially because of jetlag.

Smiling ear to ear, wearing her favorite turquoise flowy dress which caressed her ankles as she walked, Bownca stopped in front of the patio door of Massimo's room at the bed and breakfast. She fluffed her hair, smiled wider, and knocked on the door with the confidence of a woman used to getting her way.

Her smile grew tenfold when her new neighbor opened the door with sleepy eyes and an antagonized grimace which spoke for itself.

Yet that smile of hers disappeared at once as Bianca's gaze traveled down his bare chest. A perfectly sculpted and tanned bare chest.

"What are You doing here?" Massimo greeted her in a raspy voice she tried not to concentrate on. "It's too early for morning walks, especially on crutches. If this is Your idea of letting me know You changed Your mind about driving do Alberobello You should have just called."

"Who said anything about changing my mind?" Biance raised her eyebrow, celebrating a silent victory. "I said I would take You around. That's why I'm here."

"At this hour?" He hissed out.

"Veramente," she smiled.

"I'm on vacation. Not on a schedule." He thought of slamming the door in her face. Although tempting, he knew it was pointless. He left it open and walked away from the door, toward the bathroom.

"Should have thought of it before You dragged me into it." Smiling once again, this time with obvious confidence, she walked inside and closed the door behind her with a swing of the crutches. She valued privacy. The owner of the bed and breakfast - the ever so nosy Signora Gianncarlo did not. "Better yet, You should have asked Elisabella about my morning habits.

"What habits?" He turned around in the bathroom's threshold.

"I wake up before the sun does," she beamed at her with overstated finesse.

"Is there a reason why You did not tell me about this yesterday?" Massino narrowed his eyes on her, turned away, and posed the question right before turning on the shower.

"No." She shook her head and closed the bathroom door in his face, without offering any further explanation. "Shower if You must, but please be time-efficient about it. We're heading back to Rome and You might want to beat the morning traffic."

"I might want to beat it?" Massimo called out over the sound of running water.

"Well, I most certainly am not the one who enlisted Your services, am I?" She replied under her breath, smirking wickedly.

He showered. Barely dried himself off with a towel. And opened the bathroom door with his black disheveled hair dripping down his still-drenched chest. "Could You at least tell me where we're going first?"

"Trevi Fountain..." She whispered, visibly affected by what she was looking at. Or who she was looking at to be more precise. Moreover, the hot mist filling the bathroom added to the image of the man she loathed yet could not take eyes off.

"I said I was not interested in visiting tourist attractions," he fastened the towel around his waist and walked out past her into the kitchenette area.

"Trevi Fountain is not just a tourist attraction. It's a tradition."

"For who?" His question was a sound one, yet he might have as well been asking for the number of craters on the dark side of the moon. Either question begged for equal struggle of thinking.