by Lynda Curnyn
At the mention of the tanneries, I saw the opening I had been looking for all night. Choosing my words carefully, I said, “That’s true. But mass-producing in Italian leather can get expensive. In fact, I understand the Lorenzo tannery has just upped their prices.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So you’re keeping up on the pricing now, too, are you?”
“I have to in order to understand what we’re up against in terms of production costs.” I hesitated for a moment, then plunged in. “In fact, I understand someone from the Lorenzo tannery was in town last week. Gianna, I think? I hope you had a chance to meet with her. Maybe work a little of your charm to help keep prices down.” The moment the words were out of my mouth, I held my breath, hoping he wasn’t charming her right into bed.
He smiled. “Don’t worry about the Lorenzos. They’re old friends of mine. Good people. Very fair.”
Fair? As in the fairest of them all? Needing more, I said, “So I guess you did have a chance to meet with Gianna here?”
“Of course,” he said, looking at me in a way that made me wonder if I was being too obvious.
But if he suspected the jealousy that I had, against my will, felt moving through me, he certainly managed to beat down the green monster with his next words. “It was nice to see Gianna. I spent some time with her family when I was in Italy. She’s like a sister to me.”
I slowly let out my breath. Sister, I could handle.“Well, let’s hope sister Gianna remembers who her family is when it comes time to negotiate prices next year. Otherwise, we may have to stick to Chinese tanneries.”
“I think we’ll be fine. If not, we’ll just mark up the price to the customer,” he said with a wink.
“Yeah, and make my job selling it hell.”
“Remember, you’re not a sales rep anymore.”
Smiling I said, “But now I have to take the hit if my reps can’t move the stuff. I’ve got volume projections I’m accountable for. Besides, there’s more to being a sales rep than getting buyers to leave the showroom with a big order for your goods. I’d say seventy-five percent of the battle is knowing what the buyer wants—and having it ready to show him—before he even enters the showroom. When I was managing The Bomb, I made it my business to make sure everything we put on those racks anticipated the latest trends.” I smiled.“Tom probably told you, I used to drive him kinda crazy with the goods we carried from Luxe. I was forever asking him to remerchandise.“ My smile deepened. ”But I think he respected me for that.“
Vince returned the smile.“Clearly he did.” And I could see that by the time the dessert course came, Vince’s respect was growing for me.
By the time we headed back toward Kismet, I was feeling a little more than respect for Vince, which was why I suggested we walk home along the beach. Not only was I looking for a little romance, I was hoping Vince might open up a bit. We had spent so much time talking business, I had learned very little about the man himself.
And I wanted to know more. A lot more.
Once we hit the cool sand, I kicked off my sandals, and Vince followed suit. Breathing deeply, I gazed up at the sky glittering with stars and a pale slice of moon hovering over the crashing waves. Now this was something worth appreciating. And I felt glad, very glad, to finally have someone to appreciate it with.
“So tell me about you,” I said, once we began to walk side by side along the shore.
“What do you want to know?”
I shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. What it was like in the beginning. When you met Tom and started up Luxe.”
“Not a very interesting story,” Vince said. “I was in textiles at the time—running a small shipping operation out of New York. But 1 was looking to branch out. I had been doing a little business with Tom. One day we started talking, and before you know it, we were making plans. Soon enough, we were business partners.” He smiled. “Now we’re practically family. He was the best man at my wedding.”
I absorbed this information. “And you were married for how long?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t prying too much. Yes, I was attracted to this man, but I needed to do a baggage check, didn’t I? Most of the men I dated had barely gotten over their first heartbreak, never mind their first wife.
“Six years,” he replied.“I gave that woman six years and a beautiful little girl, and she walked away.”
“What happened? That is—if you don’t mind my asking.”
He shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. I went to China to set up manufacturing for Luxe, and Gabriella couldn’t hack it there. She packed her bags and left after two years. Said she missed her family. I was under the impression that I was her family. We had just had Sophia together, but she said Sophia was the reason she was going home. She didn’t want our daughter raised in that environment. But Sophia was only a baby. She wouldn’t have known the difference. I planned to get us back before she started school.”
I frowned. “You didn’t consider going back with them?”
He paused, but only for a fraction of second.“It wasn’t so simple. I had signed a contract to work there—”
“But surely Tom would have understood.”
His mouth firmed, and I saw a flash of something close to anger in his eyes. “Whether or not Tom understood was not the issue. Gabriella should have stuck by me. I was working hard to build my family a future. When she left with Sophia, it felt like a betrayal. I got angry. And when I get angry, I get stubborn. It’s the Sicilian in me, I guess.”
I smiled. I liked the Sicilian in him. That sense of loyalty. Though I worried about it, too. He had, after all, chosen loyalty to his work over his wife and child. Though I was sure he didn’t see it that way.
“I stayed on another two years,” he continued. “By the time I came home for good, the rift between us was too great. I don’t believe in divorce. Never did. But that was the only option she gave me.”
I thought about that, realizing that on this point we were in agreement. I didn’t believe in divorce either, which was probably what kept me from making the leap to marriage. I didn’t believe it worked for everyone. And I wasn’t sure I could make that kind of commitment.
Then Vince stopped, his gaze moving out to the ocean, before he turned to look at me, his eyes filled with weariness and something else I couldn’t fathom.“I guess you never really know someone, do you?”
I licked my lips, feeling, for the first time in my life, afraid. Because I realized in that moment that I now wanted to know someone well enough to take that leap. Wanted to believe…
I’m not sure who started it, but suddenly we were kissing, and I nearly groaned with relief. God, he tasted just as good as I’d imagined, I thought, pressing myself against him as the wind came off the ocean. Wondering, as I did, if the rest of him tasted as good.
And just as I was thinking I might get that taste, Vince broke off the kiss.
“I better get you home,” he said, “before I do something we both might regret.”
I smiled, knowing I would never regret a minute in this man’s arms.
I looked at him. “What do you say we go to your home?”
His eyes searched mine, glittering in the darkness. “Are you sure, Sage?”
“Very.”
I couldn’t tell you whether Vince lived in an A-frame or a ranch. Okay, maybe I did get a vague impression of a low-lying structure as we flew up the wooden walkway together, hands clasped. And I might even have spotted a Ficus tree looming in the moonlight that spilled through the windows in his living room. But the moment he shut the front door behind us, pressing my back against it, I saw nothing but Vince’s gaze, searing into my eyes as his mouth moved hungrily against mine. Felt nothing but the rasp of his beard against my face, his hands moving restlessly over my body.
“Come with me,” he said, pulling back, before he grabbed my hand and practically yanked me toward the bedroom.
Within moments, I was on my back on the softest mattress I had ever felt, breathing hard as he pushed my
tank and bra down in one shot, his hands moving a bit roughly on my breasts, a groan rumbling through him as his mouth met mine.
I heard an answering groan come up through my throat as I pulled at his shirt, sliding my hand beneath it until my hand made contact with that delicious place where his hip met his hard lower ab.
I needed more. I needed to see him. And apparently Vince needed to see me just as bad, because he leaned away from me, pulling my tank back up again until he succeeded in getting it over my head.
I helped him out on the bra, which was still wrenched beneath my breasts.
“Sage,” he practically hissed at me, before he locked his gaze on mine, his tongue moving hotly over my breast.
I almost came right then. I wasn’t even sure if it was his mouth on me, or the look that came into his eyes. Like he wanted to devour me whole.
Moving restlessly beneath him, I yanked at his shirt again until he got the message, standing up briefly to pull it over his head before pressing that hard chest into mine once more.
Then he gave me that look again, sliding both hands up my skirt until it was up around my waist, and slipping a finger inside my thong.
Not that he needed to know whether I was ready or not. He knew. I could tell by the way he smiled at me, just moments before his fingers made contact.
I moaned, and in answer he slid down my thong, then stood to drop his trousers and briefs, kicking them to the side.
Within moments, he was on me again. Not only on me, but in me, I realized, feeling the hot tip of him slip inside.
“Vince,” I said, not sure what I was asking for, that’s how insane I was. Then he slid in farther, and I remembered the question, shifting my body so that he slipped out once more. I looked at his glittering eyes, and prayed he had a good answer.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a condom anywhere, would you?”
“Ah, Sage,” he said, and I knew by the shadow that came into his eyes, that he didn’t.
“My purse,” I said, feeling suddenly glad I always carried my own condoms—and more than a little pleased that he didn’t. “I think I may have dropped it somewhere in the living room.”
He leaped up, moving through the shadowy room like a shot, and returned moments later with my bag in hand.
I almost felt a little sad about covering that beautiful erection of his in latex, but cover it I did, first with my mouth, then with the condom, once I located the packet in my bag.
And then he was in me, completely in me, his eyes on mine as he moved slowly, torturously, touching his mouth to mine in a series of soft kisses that made me ache all the way to my toes.
He started moving faster, those dark eyes on mine and an almost animal sound coming from his mouth.
This was how I had imagined it to be. No, I thought, looking into his eyes, this was better. Better than I could have possibly imagined. So good, in fact, I felt a clutch of possessiveness move through me as my body began to throb beneath his.
cried out and he pressed his mouth to mine, his body shuddering against me as he let go, his hand moving to my hip to pull me closer.
I snuggled against him as he lifted his head, smiling gently down at me as his eyes roamed over my face, his eyes taking me, as if he couldn’t get enough of me.
I knew the feeling, I thought, studying his dark eyes and long lashes, the gentle hook of his nose and stubbly slope of his cheek as I pulled him more tightly against me and, for the first time in my life, prayed I would never have to let go.
* * *
Chapter Thirty-five
Nick
Love is the drug. But a little dope doesn’t hurt, either.
A bottle of wine, two steaks and eighty-five dollars later, I realized that Francesca might be more than I could handle. Hefty price tag aside, dinner wouldn’t have been so bad if maybe she had done more than sit sulkily in her chair, picking at her food. I guess I never realized how quiet she was. I even ordered us some after-dinner drinks in the hopes of getting some life into her, but she only sipped at her cocktail sullenly. Like she was depressed. Or something.
Maybe she had always been like this. Maybe I’d been so focused on that hot body of hers that I hadn’t noticed the head wasn’t screwed on too tight. I mean, yeah, I guess I thought she was psycho to begin with. But weren’t most chicks psycho anyway, on some level? Especially once you got into their pants. Analyzing every little word you said. Making all sorts of demands and shit.
But this was different. Francesca wasn’t making demands. Or analyses, for that matter. In fact, it was as if she was uninterested in everything. She barely even touched the expensive steak she’d ordered. Hardly batted an eye at the amazing sunset that shimmered across the bay as we sat over our meals.
It was making me a little crazy, to be honest. I was on edge the whole time we were at the restaurant, wondering what was going on in that head of hers. Talking way too much about myself, about my business, even going as far as mentioning the Les conundrum, but that only earned me a look of disdain.
By the time we were done and walking back to the house in the darkness, 1 was damn frustrated. Even more so when I looked down at her as she walked beside me, looking so fucking pretty in that dress, her hair falling over her soft cheeks…
“What are you doing?” she cried.
I wasn’t even sure. All I knew was one minute I was wondering and worrying about her, and then the next, I had picked her up and flipped her over my shoulder.
“Kidnapping you,” I replied, spotting the wooden walkway to the beach in the distance and heading straight for it.
“Put me down,” she said, her hands beginning to pummel at my back. But she was laughing.
I never thought I’d be so glad to hear that happy sound.
Once we were on the beach, I did put her down, easing her gently to the cool sand, then plopping myself beside her.
“I’ve got something to cheer you up,” I said, then reached into my pocket for my bag of weed. I hadn’t been smoking much out at the house—at least not in the presence of Tom. Mostly because I sensed Tom might not approve. But Francesca looked like she did.
“Where’d you get that?” she said, her eyes lighting up.
“I have my resources,” I replied, pulling out my one hit pipe and filling it.
I handed it to her, then held the lighter over the bowl, watching as she toked on the end of the pipe. “Atta girl,” I said, which only earned me a puff of smoke in the face and a glare.
“I’ve smoked pot before,” she said, snatching the lighter from me and taking another hit.
I watched as she inhaled, closing her eyes as she did, then opening them again as she blew out. “That tastes good,” she said, looking at me with surprise.
“Of course it’s good,” I said, taking the pipe from her and refilling it. “I don’t fool around when it comes to my dope.” I took a hit, then leaned over and placed my mouth against hers, blowing the smoke in. When I pulled my mouth away, she blew it back out, giggling as she did.
“Let me try,” she said, taking the pipe from me and lighting it. Once she filled her mouth with smoke, I opened my mouth over hers to receive it, leaning back and looking into her eyes as I slowly let the smoke out.
“You have pretty eyes, Francesca.”
She giggled again and I leaned in again, this time to kiss her.
Maybe it was the weed, but her mouth seemed a bit more tender beneath mine.
Nice, I thought, leaning back to look at her face. This was nice.
She smiled, looking almost shy. Then she giggled again. “The first time I got high was on the beach. Spring break in Fort Lau-derdale, freshman year. That was a crazy night.”
“Oh yeah?” I said, dumping out my pipe and pocketing it along with my weed. “I heard about those spring breaks down in Fort Lauderdale. Wet T-shirt contests and shit.”
She laughed again. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Yeah, well, if you did enter a wet T-shirt contest, I bet
you would win.”
She looked at me in a way that made me wonder if she had.
“You miss school?” I asked, glad she was at least talking now. Maybe I might even learn something about her.
“Not yet,” she said, her eyes going wide.“I just graduated, silly.”
“So what are you going to do with the rest of your life?”
Her gaze became pensive, and she started fiddling with the tie on the front of her dress. “Daddy wants me to work with him at Luxe.”
“And you don’t want to?”
“Not really,” she said, looking up at me again. “I want to do something a little more fun. More exciting.”
“The music business is pretty exciting,” I said.“In fact, once we get the CD pressed, I might need some help with publicity. You know, hanging up posters around the city. Handing out promotional materials.”
She frowned. “I want to do more with my life than hang up posters, Nick.”
“Hey, you gotta start somewhere, right?”
She glanced at me, a playful look lighting up her eyes as she wrestled me to the ground, the skirt of her dress floating around her as she sat astride me. “Well, I want to start at the top,” she said, eyes gleaming.
“Is that right?” I said, tackling her until 1 rolled her easily beneath me.
She laughed, then pressed her mouth against me, immediately taking the advantage.
Yeah, this was nice, I thought, breaking off the kiss to lean my forehead against hers, gazing into her eyes.
She giggled. “You know you have three eyes.”
“And two heads,” 1 replied, pressing my erection into her.
Her gaze turned serious. “Make love to me, Nick.”
She didn’t have to ask me twice. In fact, it occurred to me, as I slid my hand beneath her dress, she never usually asked at all.
Not that it mattered, I thought, once my hands came into contact with her soft, soft skin.
