Luca's Dilemma

by Deneice Tarbox

  “We had a cancellation,” April notified her with glee, jumping up and down, and spinning simultaneously. “Who gets to go home?”

  Sheila threw her head back in laughter. “I'd say, judging from the gleam in your eye, it should be you. I’ve already started on my patient, so I’m good.” Sheila couldn’t help but envy her co–worker’s enthusiasm and energy and wouldn’t have stood in the way of this moment if she could have. She had rent to pay. And, unlike her, April had a man at home who seemed to adore the hell out of her.

  “Yippee!” April shouted before catching herself and placing her hands over her mouth. The normally pink hue of her face deepened into a rose red. “Sorry. It’s just I didn’t sleep well today.”

  “I'm sure you didn't,” Sheila replied with one raised eyebrow.

  For a brief moment, confusion clouded the younger woman's expressive eyes. Then the look changed to one of pure embarrassment. She sucked her teeth as the already red coloring of her face deepened further, provoking another hearty laugh from Sheila.

  “It wasn't because of that,” April said on a high–pitched squeal. She playfully swatted at Sheila’s arm. “My in–laws are coming to visit, and I can't help but be nervous about it.”

  “I see,” Sheila stated. However, her cheeks were cramping from the huge grin plastered across her face.

  “It's true,” April persisted. She crossed her arms over her small breasts and stared at Sheila in mock irritation. “The other patient’s here.” A small giggle escaped as her bogus attempt at anger started to falter. “I’ll just move him to your empty room, but I have to warn you,” she started, a hint of seriousness creeping into her lowered voice, “he's really good looking.” She cringed ever so slightly as though feeling guilty for saying it out loud.

  Sheila shook her head in amusement. “Good looking, huh?” She had to admit she was a little surprised by her young co–worker’s comment. Unlike the twins, who drooled over any man who walked through the lab door and still had all his original teeth, April seemed to have eyes for only her hubby. Sheila appreciated the fact that the young woman had made the comment with tact, having grown weary of the twins and their need to describe in repugnant detail what they would like to do with anyone they found hot or, in their word, “lickable”.

  “Okay… if you wouldn’t mind passing on that I’m almost done here and I’ll be in with him shortly.”

  “Will do,” April assured her. “And, Sheila… thanks.”

  Chapter 4

  Returning to Ms. Cote’s room, Sheila managed to finish the rest of the setup without injury. After making sure the older woman was comfortable, she cleaned up, washed her hands, and read her new patient’s chart, not really acknowledging his name in her haste to get everyone to bed on time. She then walked down the hall and tapped lightly on his door.

  “Come in,” a deep, yet slightly familiar voice called out, catching her off guard. If that voice was any indication of his looks, April just might be on to something.

  Sheila opened the door. What she saw on the other side of it almost made her lose all professionalism. There on the double bed lay her neighbor, shirtless, and posing like a Playgirl centerfold. Her eyes roamed over the chiseled contours of his solid torso on their own accord. The thought of what it would feel like to run her lips across every inch of his gorgeous exposed skin caused her blood to heat. Breathing was suddenly a chore. True, she had watched her neighbor in the fields and had to admit he was definitely a nice specimen, despite being pigment challenged. However, this was the first time she’d ever seen him shirtless, let alone in such a provocative position. Before she became too engrossed in her lust, she realized he was just as flustered as she was.

  Regaining her composure, she took control of the situation. “Hi,” she managed to get out coherently, attempting to ease the awkwardness between them.

  “Hi,” he responded, his thick lips slightly parted.

  As often as Sheila had told herself she hated it, it was kind of strange seeing horse–boy caught off guard rather than gawking at her in his customary vulgar way. For the first time since meeting the pervert with an even more perverted horse, she honestly felt sorry for him. But maybe now he would understand what it felt like to be inappropriately ogled during a moment of vulnerability. Unfortunately, she had to acknowledge that she was making him uncomfortable, which would only result in a poor study. Her job was to get the best study possible.

  “I know this might sound like I’m splitting hairs, but it helps to keep the leads in place and prevent cross contamination if you wear a shirt.” The comment wasn’t entirely false, but in this case it would serve double duty by helping to minimize his discomfort and keep her suddenly active imagination in check.

  “Oh, yeah, sure, that’s not a problem. Are these lounging pants okay?” he asked, tugging slightly at the satin material and drawing attention to the rather prominent bulge between his thighs.

  Sheila forced saliva down her suddenly dry throat. “We can work with the lounging pants,” she assured him in a tight voice while conjuring up the willpower not to stare at his lower region. “Are you comfortable with me working with you tonight? If not, I can call April back in.” She willed her treacherous eyes to remain locked with his. Noticing a hairsbreadth too late just how hypnotic his eyes were made her aware that this tactic wasn’t much better.

  Luca must have sensed his new power over her. A mischievous twinkle sprang to life in his blue eyes, and he smiled at her devilishly. “I’m good if you are,” he challenged, his voice now low and husky.

  The abrupt shift in his attitude caused Sheila’s ire to flare and a semblance of common sense to return to her. A forced smile took away some of the bite that would’ve undoubtedly been clear in her tone. “Why don’t I give you a few minutes to get your shirt on and relax? I’ll be right back.”

  Fleeing the room before he could respond, she prayed to God above those few precious minutes would provide ample time for her to pull herself back into professional mode. Once horse–boy’s arrogance bled through, the urge to smack him had quickly replaced any sympathy she’d had for him. How the hell had she not recognized his name on the chart? Now she was stuck with the bonehead for the rest of the night.

  “This is just great,” she muttered as she paced the floor of the tech room. “Now he's got me talking to myself again. I said I wasn't going to do that anymore. Deep breaths, Sheila, deep breaths.”

  Her pacing suddenly came to an abrupt halt. Perhaps she’d pegged him wrong. Tonight, he’d initially had the decency to look embarrassed at being seen in his sleep attire. Maybe he was even a little shy and covered it up with the silly adolescent behavior she’d witnessed so far. God, she hoped not. That would make her a meanie.

  Heat warmed her cheeks as the memories of how she’d dressed him down after each horse attack came to mind. After all, it had been that dumb animal that kept waking her up, licking her face, and yanking at her headscarf, not his owner.

  But she wasn't about to let him off that easy. Shy or not, he still owned the beast responsible for solidifying her grudge toward animals everywhere. Was it her fault that in the face of sleep deprivation — and occasionally PMS — she lost all wits and bearing? She expected her neighbor would be forgiving and not hold those awful things she’d said against her tonight. She was confident she could ease him into a good night's sleep. It was important to make him comfortable, or the time he spent here at the lab would be a complete waste.

  A few minutes later, with new resolve, Sheila returned to her neighbor’s room to find him sitting leisurely on the side of the bed. A loose navy blue T–shirt now covered that divine torso of his, making the art of breathing around him a little less strenuous.

  “Did April or your physician explain what you’re in for tonight?” Sheila asked.

  “A little bit. I know you’re going to make me look like that guy from Hellraiser, and then you’re going to watch me snooze.” The words fell from his mouth in a sexy heap
as he ogled her with hooded eyes.

  Okay, so he's not shy. “That’s correct. Any questions before we get started?”

  “Yeah, how am I supposed to sleep with all that stuff on, and how soon can I get out of here tomorrow? Not that the company’s bad or anything.”

  Sheila let out a hearty laugh, ignoring the lecherous once–over accompanying his last comment. “Everyone asks that. In fact, I kind of worry about those who don't.”

  A strange feeling enveloped her when her neighbor reacted to either her comment or her laughter. He laughed just as loudly, his eyes losing the slight edge Sheila had just then noticed they had harbored. After sobering, he sat there smiling up at her as though he'd just heard the sweetest of melodies. After years of Ahmed, and sometimes even her parents, complaining that her loud laugh was embarrassing, the gesture melted her own hardness. However, Sheila wasn't used to being treated so kindly, and the longer he stared, the more uncomfortable she became.

  “Why are you staring at me like that?”

  A hint of mischief crept back into his eyes. “I can't decide whether you're more beautiful when you're smiling or when you're cussing me out.”

  “I have no problem doing the latter, if that's what you’d prefer.”

  Instead of becoming offended by the comment, he stretched his full lips wider, exposing a deep dimple in his left cheek Sheila hadn't noticed before. He flexed his eyebrows ever so slightly, indicating with a confidence Sheila couldn’t help but find attractive that he was more than ready to handle either. At that moment, every smidgeon of her hostility toward him evaporated.

  Sheila found herself laughing again. She rolled her eyes, unable to suppress a smile as she pulled a chair up next to him and began explaining the logistics of the test. It took some time because he kept interjecting funny questions and comments, making her laugh harder, and even louder, than ever. She started to suspect that he actually did enjoy her laughter.

  “After all this lovely bonding, you're really going to leave me alone with a stranger in the morning?” he inquired in a whiny voice once Sheila had finished her spiel. He cocked his head to the side, gathering his full, pink lips into a pout, no doubt trying to provoke some sort of guilt trip.

  “Sorry, bud. Your test is two–fold and lasts darn near twenty–four hours. Excuse my language, but I plan to be all ass and elbows come sunrise.”

  Sheila stood, taking the chair with her, and made her way across the room. The heat of her neighbor’s stare on said body part made her realize she probably should’ve worded that better, and the man sure as hell wasn't staring at her elbows. Deciding again to ignore his lewdness, she attempted to take charge by using her professionalism as a distraction.

  “Let’s get started, shall we?” She gestured toward the chair, indicating he should take the seat.

  He stood up slowly, his eyes capturing Sheila's, and for the life of her, she couldn’t tear them away from him. His orbs took on a deep blue hue, an eye color Sheila couldn't recall ever seeing on any other human being before. They continued to grip her, intensifying in power once he started moving her way with more swagger in his step than necessary.

  I dee–clare. This man doesn’t know when to quit.

  Part of her desperately wanted to tell him just how much of a fool he was making of himself, but she was too far gone in his mystic gaze to do so. However, Sheila couldn't suppress the slow side–to–side shake of her head as she began to acknowledge just how crazy this man really was.

  Once he crossed over into her personal space, they stood mere inches apart staring at one another, and the little control Sheila thought she had proved false. She’d been completely unprepared to handle just how handsome his features were at such close proximity and when facing him dead on. A straight nose with a slightly rounded tip rested slightly off center between well–defined cheekbones and above full lips that rivaled those of most black men. A scar glistened at the top of one of his thick eyebrows, causing the dark hair there to part ever so slightly. It added just the right touch of masculinity and mysteriousness to his otherwise pretty face.

  Appropriate laugh lines danced around his smiling eyes, tying the whole package together. There was no way to ignore the virtually jet–black hair that tapered toward the back of his neck. It was longer in the front with a few wisps falling seductively to frame his forehead and adding a trace of youth to what she knew to be his nearly fifty years of age.

  But the biggest attention grabber was his height. Lord have mercy, he’s tall, Sheila realized, her pulse quickening as she gazed up at him. It wasn't often she got the chance to do so, and the reality of it thrilled her to no end. Her smile faltered, and her heart began to pound as a strange, hot, tingling sensation coursed over her skin. She’d never felt anything like it.

  With a slow blink, she managed to snap out of it, successfully thwarting the urge to do something stupid. Embarrassed, she stepped behind the chair, putting much–needed space between them.

  “You liked that, huh?” he boldly stated, apparently not missing Sheila’s moment of distress. His deep voice was like honey as he let this bullcrap drip so freely from his precious lips. The dimple in his cheek deepened more with his cocky, one–sided grin.

  Sheila was hip to his type. And it was that knowledge that gave her the ability to stand strong against his Don Juan–like onslaught. “Please have a seat, Mr. Moriatti,” she stated firmly, disregarding the arrogant comment. But from the way his eyes were dancing, she knew he was privy to the fact that once again he had the upper hand.

  “It’s Luca, and thank you,” he corrected before taking the seat, that sly smile lingering on his handsome face.

  Once more, Sheila found herself shaking her head in amusement. Before tonight, she had never actually interacted with the man in a cordial sense, nor had she seen his smile. She had to admit, it looked good on him.

  “I guess I was a little surprised to see you here,” he admitted, encroaching on her thoughts. “Richard told me you and Tina worked at the hospital, but I never suspected you worked here.”

  “We sleep techs kinda like it that way. It’s a great way to hide.”

  They both laughed.

  “You keep in touch with Richard?” she asked as she began the setup process.

  “Yeah, he cares for my horses, among other things, whenever I head out of town. Nice guy, ayuh.”

  “Okay, please tell me why someone with a distinct New York accent is using Maine slang,” she teased. “And are you sure you're using that phrase correctly?” She raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

  “There aren’t any rules on how to use it. You just do,” he retorted, gesturing with his hands out in front of him as though stating the obvious.

  Shelia wasn't so sure about that, but what did she know about Northern etiquette? “How long have you lived here?”

  “A little over a year… and I use Maine slang for the same reason someone with a slight, but distinct, southern accent will soon be using Maine slang. It’s catchy.”

  “Mmm hmmm. I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t ‘mmm hmmm’ me, woman. Mark my words.”

  Once again laughter filled the small room.

  “So, what made you leave Hot–lanta for the precarious, volatile elements of Maine?”

  Apparently that manly–man Richard was running his big mouth about her. She sighed before relaying her overly practiced response. “It was time for a change. Tina was here so I figured, hey, why not?”

  “Don’t you have family back home?”

  “No. They’ve all relocated. My parents grew tired of the humidity and moved to California. My brother’s in Afghanistan serving as sergeant major in one of the infantry brigades.”

  “You must really miss them.”

  “Sometimes. But we manage to Skype often. Quite frankly, I rather enjoy my peace and quiet. Family can be downright demanding at times.”

  “Tell me about it,” he agreed a little too eagerly.

  Sheila was about
to inquire, but they were interrupted.

  “Sheila, I’m ready for bed,” Ms. Cote called from the other room, temporarily ending their conversation.

  “Well, I’d better put her to bed. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

  “Take your time, babe. And thanks. I know this experience could’ve been less than comfortable for both of us. But you've made it worthwhile,” Luca stated with a wink and a crooked smile.

  Sheila turned and left the room, shaking her head in amusement yet again. Before tonight such an endearment coming from him would have instantly earned the horse–boy a thorough tongue–lashing. But now that she had gotten to know him, she was able to accept it as part of his quirkiness and didn’t take it as an insult. Had she finally found common ground with her neglectful, yet charming, landlord? Only time would tell.

  Chapter 5

  “So do we have a deal, Nathan?” Sal Patina inquired from the other end of the phone.

  “Why are you specifically requesting Luca do this? He’s no longer a threat to you, nor does my son owe you anything.”

  “That’s your opinion, not mine. I no longer have my little angels because of you and your boys. As far as I’m concerned, you Moriattis owe me everything.”

  Nathan was silent. He forced himself to remain calm while digesting Sal’s words. Of course he didn't agree with him but knew it would be best to keep a handle on Sal until he could figure out exactly what the little weasel was up to.

  “Let me think about it. I’ll get back to you by the end of the year.”

  “End of the year? Surely there's no need for procrastination, Nathan.”

  “You should know by now that I don't like to repeat myself,” Nathan said in a tone that brooked no argument.

  “The end of the year I can do… as long as the answer you give me is the one I want to hear.”

  Raising his eyebrows in astonishment, Nathan pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. After all these years, it would appear Patina had finally grown a pair. Nathan wasn't too worried about his old friend's newfound courage or, probably more appropriate, stupidity. Sal's power in the mafia world didn't begin to compare to that of the Moriatti Empire.