“Sometimes,” I admitted. “I have more money than they do now, so I hear from them a few times a year asking for handouts. My aunt likes to parade women in front of me, usually daughters of her friends, in hopes that I’ll marry one of them and share the wealth.”
“Ugh. I thought arranged marriages went out of style two hundred years ago.”
“Depends on how much money is involved. Anyway, I’ve created enough of a bad reputation that there aren’t too many takers on my aunt’s offers.”
Carlina blinked, her lips parted with surprise. “That’s why you don’t care about the tabloids. Oh, my God. You’re a fraud!”
I touched my forehead with two fingers, giving her a salute. “It worked, didn’t it? You hated me before you met me.”
“Hate might be a little strong. More like disgust.” Her expression softened and she cleared my empty bowl away. “As much as I admire your diabolical plotting, we need to consider my privacy, and Antonio’s. You’ll have to figure out some way to distance yourself from us while he’s here, or start making better choices so you aren’t so big a target.”
Her judgmental tone was irritating, but maybe she was right. The game had gotten old and I couldn’t risk her refusing to take care of Antonio because of my choices. “Are you telling me who I should date, Ms. Pérez?”
“Hardly. It’s none of my business and I don’t care who you choose, but you should pick one and stick with her until the tabloids find someone else to annoy.”
I drained my glass of wine to hide my scowl. “There’s only one problem with that,” I replied. “The woman I was seeing dumped me last night. Besides, Antonio hasn’t liked a single one of my girlfriends.”
Giving me a mischievous grin, she took a sip of wine and said, “I can’t decide if I want to laugh or offer my condolences on your breakup. Honestly, I’m pretty out of touch with celebrity gossip, but judging by what I’ve seen, there have been dozens. He probably knows they aren’t going to stick around and doesn’t see the point in getting to know them.”
More like hundreds, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. She had a poor enough opinion of me already. I’d been using the tabloids to keep my aunt and uncle off balance for almost a decade. “I’ll try to find someone.”
“Or just not, and let the tabloids bother someone else.” She split the last of the wine between our glasses. “It would give you a break and you might enjoy not living in a fishbowl for a change.”
“Touché.” I stood and stretched, then yawned. The adrenaline rush was gone, and after a good meal and so much wine, I wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. “I’m headed home, but I’ll be back in the morning so we can tell Antonio what’s going on.”
“Wait, Giorgio.”
I pushed the door open, but paused to let her catch up. She stepped close and put her hands on my hips, then stretched up to kiss me. Electricity darted down my spine, and her warm lemon perfume filled my lungs. Her lips were so damned soft. I groaned at the sweet taste of the wine we’d drunk and didn’t think to question why she’d be kissing me.
Thinking was overrated. I traced the bottom swell of her lower lip with the tip of my tongue, silently begging for entry while my cock shot hard. She stepped closer, tightening her grip on my hips, and my knees almost buckled at the feel of her pressed against me. She let me in, then nipped my tongue before deepening our kiss.
I embraced her, loving the feel of her generous curves under my hands. Too soon, she pulled away. Although it was a wrench, I let her go.
Carlina backed up and tossed my keys in the air. Catching them, she said, “I’ll get you a pillow and some blankets. You’re going to sleep on the couch.”
Chapter Six
Carlina
Giorgio stared at me, his mouth open. Snapping his lips together, he scowled. “You stole my keys. You kissed me to steal my keys?”
“Yes. It’s called being a responsible adult.” I shoved the key ring into my pocket, then added, “I have a pair of sweats that will probably fit you, so you don’t have to sleep in your suit.”
He gave me a dark stare that almost made me rethink my decision, then shook his head. “I have no idea if I should thank you or spank you.”
I tried to hide my shiver at the idea of being turned over his knee. Although I didn’t get out much, the number of smutty books on my tablet would make a sex worker blush and my mother would probably have a coronary. In an attempt to cover my nerves, I laughed and said, “Why don’t you sleep on it and tell me what you decide in the morning.”
“It’s probably going to lean toward spanking you,” he retorted. “Here I am thinking you’re sweet and innocent, and you’re nothing of the kind. Stealing a man’s wits with your kisses, just so you can take his keys.”
“Would you have given them up if I’d asked?”
Giorgio’s jaw tightened and he shook his head. “Point taken. I have an overnight bag in my car.”
He strode out, making me catch the screen door to keep it from slamming, the big baby. Kissing him probably hadn’t been one of my smarter ideas, but the thought of letting him drive home after drinking most of two bottles of wine didn’t appeal, and I hadn’t been able to think of anything else to do.
And admitting to myself how much I’d liked it wasn’t going to happen.
I didn’t judge him for drinking so much. I’d offered it, after all, and I had no problem empathizing with him. It must have been terrifying to have Antonio disappear like that. The thought of what could have happened chilled me to my bones and if I’d been put in that position with Katie, I’d probably be passed out drunk on the floor or rocking in a corner with my thumb in my mouth. That didn’t mean I was interested in letting Giorgio put himself at risk by driving impaired.
Leaving him to get his bag, I checked on Antonio, smiling at the sight of him with his face smooshed against Leonard’s chest. They were so damned cute. It occurred to me that I ought to be worried about a large predator in such close proximity to a vulnerable young man, but Leonard was absolute rubbish at being a lion. Well, except for chasing off that idiotic photog. That probably counted as king of the beasts behavior. Besides, it was really hard to think of him as threatening when he was passed out on his back snoring.
“I’ve never seen Antonio so peaceful,” Giorgio whispered, his breath warm against my cheek. I resisted the urge to turn into his arms. No good would come of it, no matter how much I wanted to.
“I think he’s exhausted from the walk. I ran him a bath with Epsom salt and gave him some acetaminophen, but he’ll probably be stiff and sore tomorrow,” I replied, keeping my voice to a soft murmur as I stepped past Giorgio to the linen closet. I pulled a pillow and a few blankets out and handed them to him. “There’s fresh towels in the bathroom at the end of the hall. I’ll be upstairs if you need anything.”
“Wait.”
I turned back to face him and he cupped my cheeks in his large palms, then dropped a chaste kiss on my forehead. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He followed me down the hall to the living room and I went upstairs, my knees shaking.
The kiss we’d shared in the kitchen got all my lady bits working for more than my trusty vibrator, but that innocent peck on my forehead was even worse. I tried to stop myself from melting, yet no matter what I told myself, my heart wasn’t listening.
I washed up, then flopped into bed, my head spinning. I felt bad for judging Giorgio so harshly without even knowing him. Although the word he’d used before breakfast still irritated me, I understood a little better where it was coming from. Giorgio and Antonio hadn’t grown up in a healthy, loving home. Aside from their grandmother, they’d only ever had each other, and sympathy for them both welled inside me.
Taking care of Antonio wouldn’t be a problem. I could do it, and maybe teach him to do some of the chores around the farm if he had the interest. The job would keep him active and off the couch. He might even be able to learn to cook for himself.
Th
e real problem with the arrangement would be Giorgio. How was I supposed to forget those damned kisses? I couldn’t be his girlfriend—not that he’d offered—and I didn’t want my life or Antonio’s exposed for the entertainment of cruel strangers.
Turning to my side, I punched my pillow and reached for my tablet on the nightstand. I scrolled through my library, grimacing at the number of romances. I had a few urban fantasies at the bottom of the list I’d been meaning to read though. Maybe one of those would relax me enough to get a little sleep.
By the time dawn rolled around, I was already regretting the book hangover. Instead of reading, I should have tried the coloring page app. That never failed to send me into a coma, and I would still have a new book to read, instead of one devoured when I should have been sleeping. I had zero self-control over binge reading.
Eyes gritty with lack of sleep, I stumbled down the stairs toward the bathroom, stopping short at the closed door. Stupid house with only one bathroom. My grandparents had raised eight children to adulthood here, and the old chalkboard they’d used as a schedule still hung on the wall next to the doorframe.
The door swung open. Giorgio, a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, emerged from the cloud of steam. My mouth dried and I almost choked on my own spit. Lord have mercy, the man was gorgeous. His wet hair was slicked back from his face and hung to the middle of his back, long and silky with a few tiny threads of gray. A scattering of black curls on his pecs narrowed to a thin trail of hair leading under the edge of the towel, dragging my eyes down. He was toned and muscular, yet not bulky from too much time in the gym. Damn, the man had a six-pack I wanted to trace with my tongue. There ought to be a law against covering all that lovely muscle with a suit.
“My eyes are up here, Ms. Pérez,” he murmured, giving me a slow, sexy grin.
Busted. I flushed, feeling the heat crawl up my chest. “Sorry. I’m not awake and you startled me.”
“No problem.” He took a step forward and put his hands on my waist.
I tilted my chin and closed my eyes, expecting another kiss, yet he lifted me off my feet and set me down out of his way. Looking up, I blinked, still seeing that naughty smile. Where was a bottomless pit when I needed one? “I’m… Wow, I need caffeine.”
Laughing softly, he said, “The bathroom’s all yours. Antonio is already awake, and I told him you’d be up soon to make him breakfast. He’s out collecting eggs.”
“Thanks. I’ll be ready in about fifteen minutes.”
“Take your time. I’ll make coffee.”
I scurried into the bathroom and shut the door, then leaned against the wood. Book hangovers and handsome men did not mix, but I didn’t have time to chew over my idiocy. When I looked into the mirror, I wanted to cry.
My mother always said my hair was my best feature, and never let me straighten it. With the right products and care, it looked great, but I’d ignored it for days. Instead of relatively tame spirals, I had a bushy afro on one side, and flat waves on the other.
Katie had gotten thick, straight hair from our mother. I ended up with wiry curls like our father’s. Sometimes, I thought my hair was self-aware. It always chose the absolute worst time to do something stupid.
“Fuck me,” I muttered. “Let’s just add an hour for hair to my schedule, why don’t we? No wonder the man didn’t want to kiss you. You look like a troll doll.”
I entertained the very brief notion of using dry shampoo and a headscarf, then grudgingly climbed into the shower. When I finished, I raced upstairs, hoping neither of them caught me walking around in a towel. I wasn’t used to houseguests and had forgotten to bring clothes with me.
Thankfully, I had something clean to put on. Digging into the basket of unfolded laundry, I pushed past the chef’s whites I wouldn’t have to wear anymore and grabbed what I needed, then dressed. I let my hair hang loose. It didn’t like being braided while wet, and after what I found this morning, I wasn’t willing to piss it off again.
Going down the stairs, I smelled fresh coffee and inhaled greedily. I needed some of that life-giving elixir in the worst way. When I trudged into the kitchen, Antonio met me with a huge hug and a happy grin.
“Good morning, Carli! What’s for breakfast?”
“Well, Giorgio told me you collected the eggs already, so let’s go out and see what’s ripe in the garden. I’ll make frittata and corn muffins. How does that sound?”
“What’s frittata?”
I made a beeline for the coffee pot and filled a mug, then took a deep, restorative sip. “It’s like an omelet, and has lots of good things in it.”
“Like what?” he asked, taking my hand and putting it on Giorgio’s arm. “Help Giorgio. He sometimes stumbles, and since you’re going to marry him and be my new sister, you should do that.”
“What?”
“Shh,” Giorgio said in a low whisper. “I told him I needed help so he doesn’t feel so bad about the way he walks.”
“Ay coño.” Stupid melty heart. If I wasn’t very careful, I was going to fall for the playboy like the heroine in one of my books. I reminded myself of what I’d looked like this morning and pushed my hormones down before they got me in trouble. Worse, how was I going to convince Antonio that me marrying his brother wasn’t going to happen?
“You can put anything you want into a frittata,” I finally said. “Cheese, different vegetables, and even meat like ham or sausage. I’ll teach you how to make one today.”
Giorgio wrapped his arm around my waist, leaning against me as we walked. Lowering his face into my wet hair, he said, “You smell like lemon meringue pie,” he murmured.
“It’s just soap,” I whispered back, trying to control the shiver running up and down my spine.
“Whatever it is, I like it. I have a craving for pie now. Where did you buy it?”
“It’s liquid Castile soap with a few drops of lemon extract. You can get it at the drugstore by the quart.”
Giorgio
I knew dozens of women who would have paid any price for the rich, delicious scent emanating from Carlina’s body. To think it was something she mixed up herself with drugstore ingredients struck me funny, but I resisted the urge to laugh.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied, letting her lead us to a large kitchen garden burgeoning with vegetables.
Moving away from me, she said, “Let’s pick something to put into the frittata, Antonio. I usually use a pepper or two and a tomato, along with some onion.”
“What’s this?” he asked, pointing at a small zucchini.
“Zucchini. Why don’t you pick two of those? We’ll make fritters from them instead of muffins.”
“Okay.” He struggled for a moment, but finally had the vegetables free of the vines. Holding them up, he grinned widely. “I did it!”
“You sure did! That’s awesome,” she replied, returning my brother’s smile.
I let them walk ahead of me, disgusted that I’d never considered finding something to engage my brother’s attention and help him become more independent. He didn’t need to work and it had never occurred to me that he might want to.
Carlina pointed him toward the rest of what she wanted and handed him a basket.
Catching up to her, I asked, “Why such a big garden for only one person?”
She lifted her shoulders into a shrug. “I freeze a lot of it for winter, and donate what I can’t eat to the homeless shelter in Temecula. It’s probably silly to have so much, but I like to garden.”
“I just hope you can convince Antonio to eat it.”
“It worked yesterday. I won twenty dollars off you, remember?”
“Imp.” Without thinking, I swatted her backside just hard enough to sting. It was an instinctive response to bratting, but was wildly inappropriate considering we weren’t in a relationship. Even if we were, I shouldn’t have done it without her consent.
She spun around, her eyes widening with shock, and I wondered if she was about to deck me. To my surpris
e, her pupils dilated and she flushed, her nipples hardening under the thin fabric of her t-shirt. Without a word, she turned and walked back to my brother.
Well, well. It seemed Ms. Pérez had a naughty little secret. Too bad I couldn’t act on it. Being submissive and open to domination didn’t mean she was my submissive. Dominants who didn’t follow that very important rule sometimes ended up being called felons and I was a firm believer in ongoing consent and safewords.
“Hey! I see an egg I missed!” Antonio sang out, his bum leg making his gait awkward as he ran toward the pale blue object under a small bush.
Leaving him to his task, I approached Carlina and bent until my lips touched her ear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“Not now,” she hissed. “It’s fine. It’s over. Let it go.”
Smiling, I watched her hurry to Antonio and point out another egg he’d missed. I was going to count that as a win. Not only did she not punch me in the face, she hadn’t told me not to do it again.
Interesting.
As they walked into her kitchen, I scowled, remembering our bargain. She didn’t have to tell me not to do it again when I’d already promised to stay away from her.
I followed them inside and poured another cup of coffee, freshening hers as well. Despite our mutual antipathy at our first meeting, she fascinated me. I’d never met anyone like her.
“Feet off the table, furball,” she snapped, pointing at Leonard, who had been poised to reach for the bowl of fruit she’d set out.
With a low grumble, he obeyed, then twined around her legs. Glancing around, she slipped him a piece of ham from the cutting board. Her kindness reminded me of my mother in many ways, but where my mother had been open and gracious, Carlina seemed to want to hide behind an abrasive shell.
I bit back a laugh. I wasn’t the only one pretending to be something I wasn’t. I presented a nihilistic playboy to the world. Carlina tried to portray a cranky woman who yelled at people to get off her lawn.
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