Ache for You is yet another reminder of how versatile and wildly entertaining J.T. Geissinger can be as a storyteller. Set against the vibrant backdrop of Florence, this romance takes the familiar “fiery enemies to reluctant lovers” trope and dresses it up in couture-level drama, humor, and sexual tension.

Kimber DiSanto’s life is an absolute mess when we meet her; dumped at the altar by a senator’s son, her face plastered all over the media, her business literally burned to the ground, and her father on his deathbed while she was millions of miles away. With her pride bruised and her future hanging by a thread, she heads to Italy to salvage what is left of her father’s dress shop. What she does not expect is to walk straight into the orbit of Matteo Moretti; Italian fashion royalty, certified god of seduction, and the man who makes her blood pressure spike in more ways than one.

Kimber is a hurricane of sharp edges, sass, and unchecked emotional volatility. She is funny, irreverent, passionate to a fault, and often absolutely exhausting. But she is also vulnerable in ways that give her character weight, especially when the story digs deeper into her fears of betrayal and abandonment.

Matteo, on the other hand, is a glorious contradiction. For all the swagger the hero of a Geissinger novel usually possesses, Matteo surprises in the best ways: he is sexy without being sleazy, tender without being soft, and deeply sincere despite his arrogance. From the moment he meets Kimber at an airport lounge (why these things can’t happen to us, I would never know), it is clear he is a different breed of romance hero. Their chemistry is instant, electric, and impossible to ignore.

What follows is a series of blisteringly tense encounters where Matteo, patient, persistent, and devastatingly alluring, tries to win over a woman who refuses to give him even an inch. Kimber’s deep-seated mistrust makes her combative at every turn, and while this generates delicious friction in the early chapters, the pattern begins to weigh the story down later on.

Matteo is giving, open, and steadfast, while Kimber clings to her resentment and keeps shifting the finish line. Her lingering wounds from her past explain her reluctance, but her inability to extend Matteo the benefit of the doubt becomes grating, especially as the sexual tension ratchets up, every aching kiss by kiss. Kimber it feels, makes even Jeissinger try too hard, and that is saying something.

Still, the charm of this book lies in Geissinger’s sharp writing, flawless comedic timing, and her signature brand of sensuality. The buildup between Kimber and Matteo is long, very long (God help us all), and though at times it feels like the novel is drowning in foreplay, the eventual payoff is undeniably sexy and sweet. Matteo shines as the kind of hero who does not just want the heroine; he sees her, champions her, and cherishes every flaw she tries so hard to hide. And even when the plot loses some momentum, it is Matteo that keeps the pages turning.

By the final chapter, everything resolves in a way that feels more practical than romantic, but still satisfying. Kimber’s growth finally catches up with her stubbornness, Matteo remains the luminous heart of the book, and the epilogue gives us the soft landing these two chaotic creatures deserve. Even in its messy moments, this was a highly readable and enjoyable ride, because even Geissinger’s more problematic books are stronger than most.

Recommended for: Readers who enjoy snarky heroines who are nothing but sass, saintly-but-sexy Italian heroes, travel romances with flair, and enemies-to-lovers tension dialed all the way up.

Final Verdict: A chaotic, funny, slow-burn romp through Florence with a decadent Italian hero and a heroine who tests every limit. Exhausting at times, but irresistibly readable.

Favorite Quotes

“What are you in the mood for?”
I want to be furious. I want to be outraged. I want to slap him across the face. However, a thermonuclear blast has detonated between my legs, so all I can do is stare at him for a moment as a scalding wave of heat envelops me, and my nipples start to tingle.
Finally, when his full, sculpted lips lift into a carnal smile—because he obviously sees the effect he’s having on me—the anger I’d hoped for makes an appearance.
Holding his gaze, I say through gritted teeth, “You arrogant, stuck-up, cocky, self-important, sexist peacock. You wanna know what I’m in the mood for?” I lean closer to him. “Murder.”
If I hoped that psychotic little speech would turn him off, I’m wrong. His eyes flare, his carnal smile turns absolutely filthy, and he produces another chuckle that makes the bartender, who’s arrived with my espresso, emit a tiny gurgle of lust.
Staring intently into my eyes, he says softly, “Yes, bella. I want you, too.”

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