Rafe Cameron did many things.

But standing in front of the Fontana di Trevi at midnight, shirt unbuttoned, grinning like the rich, reckless menace he was—yeah, this was a new level of insanity.

“Bunny,” he smirked, “I dare you.”

You crossed your arms, already not trusting him. “Dare me to do what?”

His blue eyes sparkled. “Get in.”

You gasped. “Are you stupid? That’s illegal.”

“So?” He shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first crime I’ve committed.”

Oh, this man.

“You are not about to get us arrested in Rome, Rafe.”

But his smirk only grew.

Then—**before you could stop him—**he was unbuttoning his shirt, tossing it to the side, and climbing into the fountain like a complete delinquent.

You gawked.

“Rafe—you absolute idiot!”

He just ran a wet hand through his hair, grinning up at you like he wasn’t doing something completely illegal.

“C’mon, Bunny,” he teased, “or are you scared?”

Oh.

Oh, hell no.

He was not about to challenge you.

So, with pure Italian rage, you kicked off your sandals, hiked up your dress, and—screw it—jumped in.

The water was cold as hell.

But Rafe’s hands were hot when they grabbed your waist, pulling you close, making your breath hitch.

“See?” he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours. “Not so bad.”

Oh.

Oh.

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

His lips—so close.

His hands—dangerous.

And then—

A police siren.

“MERDA!” you shrieked, scrambling to get out.

But Rafe?

Rafe was laughing.

Even as he grabbed his shirt, even as you yanked him down an alley to escape, even as you both breathlessly hid in a shadowed corner—

His grin never faded.

And neither did the way his eyes devoured you.

“Most fun I’ve had in a while, Bunny,” he murmured, tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear.

Your breath hitched.

Your body betrayed you.

And then—

He leaned in, voice dripping with sin.

“Next time, let’s make a wish first.”