Twins Alex and Zeca love to switch identities. It's harmless fun until Alex wants to date a hot tourist visiting their home of Capri, and asks Zeca to take his place on a date with Alex's current beau, Antonio. After a day in Antonio's arms--followed by a long, lusty weekend in his bed during a trip to Naples--Zeca discovers switching places with Alex isn't so harmless after all. Especially when he realizes he's falling hard for his brother's boyfriend.
While struggling with his feelings for Antonio, consoling his semi-celebrity father (who's having woman troubles) and trying not to upset Alex (who might be in love with Antonio...or his tourist tryst...or maybe the neighbor lady), Zeca wonders how any of them will make it through all the relationship woes with hearts intact.
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Ellora's Cave Publishing, Incorporated
November 13, 2009
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Excerpt from Relentless Passion by A.J. Llewellyn
I was in the middle of a really, really good nap, my mind on white jeans and cute butts and, God help me, floating images of broken coffee grinders. Well, maybe just one coffee grinder, but it was a persistent, ominous-looking one. I was awakened by a loud thumping on our front door. My room was on the top floor of the house, a narrow terrace above the equally narrow cliff road. My dad's room was opposite mine and Alex's was down the hall next to his. I poked my head out the window and saw Antonio on the street below me.
He looked handsome in his jeans and black silk shirt as he gazed up and waved. "Hey, beautiful."
I stifled a yawn. "Um...hey yourself. Did the ferry get in already?"
"You were coming by ferry from Naples, right?"
"Naples? No, tesoro." He wrinkled his nose up at me, his expression perplexed. "Why did you think I was in Naples?"
Oh my God.
"I'll let you in."
I ran to Alex's room but the bastard wasn't there. I was going to get him for this. Rule one when you plan on switching identities--get your facts straight. I went downstairs and threw open the door.
Antonio stood there, grinning. "Wow...this is a fantasy come true."
He thought I was a fantasy? Man! With his dark hair, classic Italian looks, piercing blue eyes and kissable mouth, he was the hottest man I'd ever seen. He stepped inside and slid his arms around me.
Holy shit! I forgot I'm just wearing underpants!
His hands roamed my ass, which was encased in tight, white boxer briefs, and I felt myself responding in a way that was completely inappropriate considering he was my brother's boyfriend.
Damn that Alex. Antonio was hot. I'd met him twice, like I said, but I'd forgotten how sexy he was. The man radiated an erotic aura that was dangerous when I hadn't had a date in months and my dreams were haunted by angry coffee grinders.
He kissed me.
I didn't resist. This is what Alex would do.
Hell, Antonio was the hottest thing I'd seen on two legs in a long time, even if he wasn't wearing white jeans. I felt the bulge in his jeans harden against me.
Oh man. Not good. I broke off the kiss, stepping back from him.
He stared at me, his gaze moving from my lips to my obvious erection. He wagged a finger. "That was the best kiss you ever gave me. You...you're on fire, I think."
Yeah. I'm a regular disco inferno. The kiss was so electrifying I wanted to do it again. And again. I mentally bitch-slapped myself.
"Oh. Um. Thanks." I backed away farther. "Take a seat, I'll go get dressed."
"What a pity." His mouth quirked into a smile. "Don't forget your swimsuit."
Swimsuit? Up in my room I called my brother, pacing as I tried to find some swim trunks that didn't scream fuck me!
"Hey," he said, picking up on the ten-thousandth ring.
"Listen," I hissed. "You told me he was coming from Naples by ferry. Wrong."
"Oh really? I'm sure he mentioned the ferry."
"And he said I need a swimsuit. What kind of date am I going on?"
"Oh. Swimming and dinner."
"Well, I can do that. Now listen, are you sure he owns a restaurant?"
I could hear laughter in the background.
"Where are you?" I asked.
"Next door with Dad and Angelina. She just baked cinnamon bread."
I was about to say something rude when he reminded me I had a date waiting downstairs.
"Don't eat all the bread. Bring some home," I said, but he'd already ended the call. I found some swim trunks and slipped them on. Black and white. Small, but not obscene. My cell phone rang. It was Alex, talking with his mouth full.
"He bought me a blue shirt. It's in a bag in my room. Make sure you wear it, he keeps asking me about it."
Once again he ended the call and I ran to his room. Out his side window I caught a glimpse of our other neighbor, Mrs. Pampina, doing nude aerobics. I'd never realized he could see right into her bedroom.
I'd also never seen such massive tits before. Or anyone so, er...over-generously proportioned.
My eyes! My eyes! I tried to cover them, tried not to look. It was a car wreck in motion. She caught my gaze and suddenly, her husband reached across the window and slammed their shutters closed.
Oh great. Next rumor running around Capri would be that I coveted my neighbor's wife.
No, wait. This was Alex's room. My day was looking up. He might have gotten the guy in the white jeans but he now had an irate Italian husband on his hands as well.
I turned my attention to finding the blue shirt. My brother had a plethora of beaus who had constant urges to gift him with beautiful things. I got the broken coffeemakers to sort out. I found three shopping bags, one of which contained a blue, pin-striped Luigi Borrelli shirt. It was about the most exquisite thing I'd ever seen...without legs, that is.
Borrelli was the most luxurious, highly prized shirtmaker. Wow, Antonio really liked my brother.
I slipped the shirt on, let it hang over my vintage button-down Levi's and felt sexy. Damn. I looked like all the other Italian hipsters. A new look for me. My normal couture was jeans, running shoes and a perpetual look of anxiety. I started to feel like Alex. I stood in his room and breathed deeply, channeling my inner charm school graduate. I took one more look at the shirt. It was a little formal, but it was a wonderful piece of fabric. Even without benefit of a cocktail, I felt pretty good.
Walking downstairs with my Timberland loafers in my hand, I saw Antonio's expectant smile fading into a frown as he gazed up at me from the sofa.
"Isn't that a little dressy? Why don't you wear the shirt I gave you?"
My Alex smile froze on my Zeca face and I ran back upstairs.
Where the hell was his blue shirt?
I ransacked Alex's room for a bag containing another blue shirt and couldn't find one. I called my brother.
"Are you still there?" he asked in an agonized tone.
"Where the hell is the blue shirt? I put on the Borrelli and it's not the one he gave you."
"Are you insane? He didn't buy me a Borrelli. I bought that with my hard-earned tips. He bought me a blue polo shirt. It's there somewhere. Hurry up and get him out of there, will ya? Hugh's coming to get me in fifteen minutes."
I couldn't find the polo shirt and declined to remove the Borrelli. I walked downstairs, determined to enjoy the fruits of my brother's alleged hard labor.
"You know what?" I smiled at Antonio. "I'm going to wear this. Then, if you're very good, I'll model the shirt you bought me when we come home."
What the hell was I saying? Boy, I really was channeling my cheeky brother.
"Model? And what else will you be wearing?"
Antonio swallowed hard. "Let's start that part of the evening now."