Deluca

ELEVEN

            The ride home was a tense and quiet one. For a while, Eleanor had wondered if she had done something wrong – something to upset him, but the thought quickly faded when Francesco's hand fell over her as he drove.

She tried her hardest not to smile at herself, seeing that some of the night's long efforts had been finally paying off. Francesco intrigued Eleanor, in more ways than just one. When she was younger, Eleanor had spent her youth on her education and taking care of what little she could in the household.

She wished she had had the freedom to experiment sexually, but while also lacking the freedom to do so, Eleanor also lacked the drive. Maybe it was from working every single day and being exhausted. Maybe it was from her never leaving the house unless she had an intention.

And while she wasn't some hapless virgin, Eleanor couldn't control the way her body reacted to Francesco. Whenever he was near, she had suddenly become aware of his every movement. Tonight, dressed so handsomely, she couldn't keep her thoughts on what she knew lay beneath.

Even now, the heat from his hand felt as if it would burn a hole through her. With the touching, an irrational side of her pondered if he could read her thoughts.

Eleanor stole another glance at Francesco whose eyes were trained on the road with his brows furrowed. He seemed completely unbothered by the kiss they had shared. There had been no true reason for Francesco to kiss her then, no appearances to keep up.

Hell, she didn't even care for the reason. She just wanted it to happen again.

The house was quiet when Eleanor and Francesco arrived. While Francesco locked the door, Eleanor slipped off her heels hoping not to wake the entire household with the incredibly high heels.

Her feet cooled on the cold tile sending relief up her spine.

"Wine?" Francesco asked, walking past Eleanor as if the kitchen itself were on fire.

"Um, sure," Eleanor said, following behind him at her own pace. Eleanor took a seat on the stool as Francesco searched through the wine fridge for a bottle of his choosing.

"White or red?"

"Any bottle that is no more than fifty dollars."

"Well... I would have to go to the store, and I don't think that they're open." Francesco looked at Eleanor apologetically before she realized that he was just teasing her.

Again, she was charmed. While he poured a glass, Eleanor wondered to herself if he realized he became someone completely different when people were around.

Eleanor watched Francesco as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows showing off the tattoos that covered his arms. They even covered his hands. She studied the way his arms moved when he attempted to uncork the bottle. The age of it made the cork all the more complacent. A different muscle became highlighted in all of his efforts leaving Eleanor breathless.

Had she truly been kissing this same man not even an hour ago?

Pop!

The sound of the cork finally dislodging caused Eleanor to jump and then smile when she noticed Francesco was now looking at her.

"Bastard is stubborn." He commented.

He poured a small amount of the wine into the glass studying the island's overhead lights. Eleanor looked at it as well, trying to see what he was looking for but whatever he was looking for he had seemed to find it quickly before smelling it.

"What are you doing? Pour the wine." Eleanor complained with a smile.

Her words looked to have offended Francesco but none of the seriousness traveled to his eyes, "This is a two-thousand-dollar wine, you do not just pour it."