Chapter 8

She had to admit that the men in Spain were handsome, but this guy put every man that she had ever met to shame and that included…that man that she had been engaged to. He was big, not just tall but thick like the soccer players that she'd watched on television last night. They were akin to American football players, just not as stocky.

She smiled to herself as she thought that a man like him could definitely handle a plus sized woman. She was checking out his thick arms and legs as he stepped down from the curb.

His deep olive coloring held a brown hue that made for a terrific tan. But it was his eyes that finally captivated her. They were amber, which contrasted beautifully against his darker skin tone. Thick hair was combed back, but he couldn't fight the curls that sprung out and surrounded his clean-shaven face.

Sidney realized that the man was walking to her car, as if he was being pulled to her by her magnetic stare. And then he opened her car door and her mouth fell open.

"Madame," he spoke in slightly accented English. And then he held out his hand for her.

For a moment she was reminded of an old movie she'd seen on late night cable called Lady Sings the Blues in which Billy D. Williams holds out his hand to Diana Ross with a twenty-dollar bill poised between his fingers. When she hesitated to accept it he says, 'Do you want my hand to fall off?'

Sidney felt her eyes widen at the sight of his hand. He would not need to ask her twice!

When she stepped out of the limo she was gripping his hand. She stared up into his amber eyes and saw the way they instantly scanned her form. Sometimes a bigger woman knows and sometimes she didn't—but when she knows that a man appreciated what he saw, then she felt it down into her very core.

Sidney felt his appreciation for her down to her core.

"Miss Wyatt?" He asked.

How in the hell did he know who she was?

"Yes," she replied slightly surprised.

"My name is Giacomo, but you may refer to me as Gio or G. I will be your Superior Genie for the next two weeks." He dipped his head slightly and gave her a winning smile. Sidney's breath nearly caught in her throat.

"Gio," she said to herself trying to capture the way that one word rolled off his tongue. What if he just talked with his tongue pressed against her pussy? Just the movement of his tongue while talking would surely make her cum. She felt her cheeks warm at that erotic image. She needed to stop. Granted it had been half a year since the last time she'd had sex, but that was not the purpose of this trip--not that she would turn down an opportunity to engage in a shipboard romance if the opportunity arose.

He gestured for someone to retrieve her bags from the trunk and she couldn't help but to check out his butt when he stooped to place luggage tags on her suitcases.

"If you'll follow me I will get you through the embarkation process," he said with a slight bow. Gio led her past the mass of people trying to enter a building. He kept her in his sights and explained that he was taking her to a VIP entrance.

She realized that his accent was different than the Spanish people that she'd talked to. She liked it even more—perhaps because it was coming from his sumptuous lips.

"Is that an Italian accent?" She asked.

"Yes, Madam. I'm actually Italian and Sicilian."

"There's a difference?"

"Absolutely. My father was from Sicily which is actually an island closest to the lowest portion of Italy, what you might call the toe of the boot." He paused and stared at her carefully. "Sicilians are brown-skinned people…some even as brown as you."

She gave him a surprised look. "Oh, I didn't realize that there was that big of a difference between the two."

He just smiled.

Gio was not sure why he had said that. He could have easily offended her by making reference to her race. Damn, he was acting like an awkward teenager in the presence of a pretty girl. It really was time for him to retire.

Once inside the VIP lounge, Gio got Miss Wyatt seated and then asked for her passport.

"May I bring you a beverage?" He asked while she retrieved her passport.

"No, I can get it-"

"It will be my pleasure to bring your refreshments. We have fruit, snacks, and other delicacies." He turned and snapped his fingers. A young man instantly appeared. "Please bring a tray of refreshments for Miss Wyatt." He turned to her again, this time one of his brows was arched while the other dipped, leaving him with a slightly disapproving expression. "And Madame I will leave you in the capable hands of the concierge while I take care of your registration."

She nodded, somehow feeling chastised for offering to get her own drink. Well, wouldn't she be peeved if someone tried to do her job? She watched him walk away holding a leather pack containing her documents and couldn't help but to admire his butt. God, it was a nice butt.

The concierge bowed, reminding her that he was still present. "Just ice water, please. Oh, can you make it sparkling?"

"Certainly Miss."

While she waited Sidney walked to a large picture window that overlooked the pier. Several large ships crowded the dock. There were a few other people in the lounge, presumably for the same reason—those fortunate enough to have a butler to do all the labor of checking in.

The concierge brought her a glass of sparkling water and set a tray of colorful macaron cookies on the table beside her.

"Thank you," she said, and he inclined his head and disappeared.