The following morning, I wake up with a big smile on my face. Gently, I slip out from under Stefano’s arm and get up. I pick up his shirt, inhaling his delicious scent before putting it on and padding to the small kitchenette in his hotel suite. The view of the ocean from the window is breathtaking in the morning light, the sun casting a golden glow across the waves.
I check the fridge and cupboards, finding ingredients for pancakes based on the recipe I found online. As I mix the batter, adding a touch of vanilla and cinnamon for extra flavor, I hum softly to myself. I really hope it comes out well because I’ve always been a horrible cook.
Just as I’m pouring the batter into the pan, strong arms wrap around my waist.
“Buongiorno, Luce del Sole,” Stefano murmurs, his lips brushing my ch
