Novelas y relatos de Romance Novels Set In Italy

Something bright. She firmly believed that this trip to Italy was more than just a journey to prepare for their wedding—it was the beginning of the happiest chapter of their lives. There, their love would bloom in full splendor, and hand in hand, they would embark on a journey of everlasting romance.

“If that is your wish, then yes. I will allow it. For you.” On the day of the wedding, the villa was transformed into a dream. White flowers lined the aisle. Soft music played as the sun began to set over the sea. Elena looked breathtaking in her elegant white gown — simple, flowing, and perfect. Antonio Vitale waited nervously at the entrance. He had aged visibly in the months since his exile, but he had come when summoned. When Elena appeared, he stared at her with genuine emotion. “You look beautiful. You remind me so much of your mama” he said quietly. “Sei raggiante, mia principessa. (You look radiant, my princess).”

The next day, the entire media in Italy carried about the news of the engagement of Lucrezia and Primo. *** Luciano Romano got in a temper where he was. The newspaper which had Lucrezia's engagement news on it was thrown onto the workbench. Luciano ran away with both hands scrambling his own hair in frustration. He thought that this time would never come true. Five years ago, Lucrezia did say that she would be engaged to Primo Zappa. However, the engagement never took place. Until last night.

A total letdown. The library itself was just as disappointing. One section was crammed with Italian law books, dry histories of world wars, and mafia men. The other section was romance novels so ancient they might as well have been written on parchment paper, and it didn’t help that most of them were in Italian, which I couldn’t even read. What did I expect? Adrian having a collection of modern, romance, mysteries, or thrillers? This wasn’t some sappy romance novel where the heroine falls in love with a library.

Hell, I'm at least fifteen years older, and I've got too much blood on my hands to ever deserve someone like her. But I can't look away. It's not just her looks. It's the way she moves, the quiet rhythm she taps on the bar when she's bored, the way her fingers dance as if she's hearing music no one else can. Every detail sticks in my head, one after another, pulling me in deeper. When she talks about Rome, her whole face lights up. For a moment, she forgets where she is, and I can see the dream in her eyes. She loves Italy, takes language classes, even wears a little pin shaped like the Colosseum.

“Surely you have been to the Colosseum?” He chuckled, bringing their joined hands up as he bent his head to kiss her fingers. Her heart skipped as she gasped at the warm and yet heating contact. “Yes, I’ve been to the sites in Italy. It was part of our education. But,” his voice dropped an octave, “unless it was necessary for a business deal or to get to know clients or prospective business partners better, no.”

"Emily, it's barely morning and you already have to make everyone miserable? This is exactly why I regret marrying you." The room went dead silent. Ryan seemed to realize he had gone too far. He opened his mouth like he wanted to take it back. But I didn't give him the chance. "Ryan, you're not the only one who regrets it. Neither of you has to leave. I'm the one who should go." I turned and went upstairs. Ten minutes later, I came back down with my suitcase already packed. Ryan's pupils contracted slightly when he saw the luggage in my hand. A flicker of delight crossed Katie's eyes before she quickly put back on her usual innocent look.

Maybe it’s time to get out of the way before he exposes us. That night, silence spread across the Romano estate. Most of the men had gone to bed, their footsteps and voices gone. But somewhere upstairs, moaning sounds filtered through the heavy walls. Rhythmic. Lustful. Dante was giving Valentina deep back strokes as he held her hands back. She kept moaning, as the strokes went deeper and deeper, she moaned and gasped for breath.

Francesca knew this was a no-brainer, of the two men, one was a fifty-one-year-old widow and the other a twenty-eight-year-old bachelor. "Ah, Asher Evans it is then, I'll set a date for your first meet with him," Francesca declared when Joan picks the twenty-eight-year-old bachelor. Although Francesca thought it was quite unfortunate that her niece should go on a date with the wicked rascal, she had to concede, desperate times, desperate measures. "I don't understand, why would I go on a date with him?" "I told you it's an old tradition, it's an alliance between families, a marriage of opportunity, but who knows, it might spark some romance you desperately need in your life," Francesca state

Summer in Italy greeted them with clear blue skies and scorching yet warming sunshine. The air was filled with the aroma of fresh coffee, citrus peels, and ancient stones that had absorbed history for thousands of years. Amidst the hustle and bustle of tourists from all over the world, Cassie and Charles, a married couple from England, were embarking on their summer vacation adventure in the heart of Italy, the city of Rome.