“I’ve been trying to.” She sighed and slid off his lap to stand in front of him. Her head dropped in dejection. “I can’t anymore.”
“Why?” Stunned, Dante exhaled loudly. “What’s going on with the selfish bastard?” He tipped her face up and peered into green eyes that had lost their sparkle.
“There’s something you should know. Greg told me…” She hesitated, folding her hands and entwining her fingers.
“Why all this nervousness? Damn it. He upset you again. Maybe I should have a talk with him.”
Her breathing labored, she clasped his shoulder. “It’s not about Greg this time. It’s Steve.”
Merda. Dante straightened and loomed above her, gritting his teeth. “Steve Bairey? Is he bugging you?”
“Yes. I mean no. I mean...”
She looked so fragile in her shorts, her generous breasts exposed to his admiring gaze. Golden brown hair mussed around a face stricken with angst and tumbled in waves upon her shoulders.
A need to protect her replaced his initial lust. “That womanizer has a sick mind. I’ll kill the bastard.”
“Oh God, too many wishes are coming true today,” she mumbled.
“Pardon?”
“Steve is dead.”
“Oh.” Silence fell between them as he digested her words. “When? How?”
Her huge eyes simmered with apprehension. “He drowned in the Jacuzzi this afternoon.”
“It must have been a shock to you.” His professional mind of criminal lawyer on alert, Dante mentally listed a dozen questions to ask. But now was the wrong time.
“He planned to leave the next day to settle in Atlanta. Permanently. He came to say goodbye. An hour before he died,” she added with a shiver.
“He was here? In your apartment?”
She nodded. “Greg just informed me that a detective will interview us at 8:00 pm.”
“I see.” No wonder Steve’s death had affected her so much. “Listen, let’s take a walk. The beach is gorgeous at sunset.” Leaving her apartment and breathing fresh air would help her unwind. “We’ll talk while we walk.”
He didn’t like it that Steve had been in her apartment. It would probably attract a lot of negative attention to her, and to him, if he remained at her side. But he wouldn’t abandon her now, when he’d just returned to her after his long absence. Maybe he should avoid his grandmother’s house until things settled here.
“Sure. I’ll wear something more presentable, just in case I don’t have time to change before the detective arrives.” She opened her dressing closet.
He scowled at two large suitcases. “Going somewhere?”
Stopping in her tracks, she stared at the luggage and slowly turned toward him, a lock of curly hair falling over her face. “I was planning to leave tomorrow.”
“Leave as in vacation?” He arched his eyebrows, waiting for more.
Tossing her hair back, she exhaled and yanked a printed blouse from the rack of clothes. “No, as in going away. Alone. Far from Greg, Steve, and this building. To ponder my life. And start on my own.”
“Is it that bad?” He focused on her tired expression and noticed the mauve shadows under her eyes, hardly concealed by her makeup.
A bitter grimace twitched her mouth as she averted her gaze. “Worse than you can imagine. I’m suffocating in this apartment.”
“The epitome of luxury and good taste.” He studied the sad crinkling of her lips.
“A golden prison.”
“You’ve been divorced for three years. Why do you let Greg manipulate you like that?”
“I’ve learned to respect Uncle Greg, my dad’s partner, since I was five years old. After my dad’s death, Greg immediately took care of me and handled their financial company on his own, but he took the trouble to explain things to me.” She grabbed matching brown capris and said. “Hold on a moment, Dante. Let me get dressed.”
In less than three minutes, she dressed more decently than he’d ever seen her, as if covering herself would shield her from further grief. Where was her sexy bikini bra or see-through shirt? But Dante truly wanted her and would wait for her.
“When did you marry him?”
“Four months after my father’s death. When Dad suffered a massive heart attack, I wasn’t even eighteen. It was Dad’s deathbed wish—his order—that I should marry his trusted friend, a widower at the time.”
Dante frowned. “Your mother didn’t protest this unfair order?”
Her smile faded, and she averted her eyes. “I don’t have a mother.”
“Oh I’m sorry.” A framed photo of her father adorned the desk in her office, but he hadn’t seen any pictures of her mother around the apartment. Strange, Alexa was a sweet girl, the type who’d show reverence to her parents. Heck, she’d been loyal enough to her old egocentric ex-husband. Considering her closed expression, he didn’t quiz her about her mother.
“Still, he’s so much older than you.” It sounded like her father had been a selfish bastard, more concerned with the interests of his company than his daughter’s happiness.
“Greg was handsome, powerful, respected. He pampered me, insisted we keep living in my Dad’s condo, and asked me to redecorate it on my own. He showered me with gifts and jewelry. We traveled and cruised. I bought designer clothes.”
“He bought himself a gorgeous trophy bride.” One with a lovely face, a figure to damn a saint, and generous breasts to wake up a dead body, especially when they bounced enticingly as they did when she suddenly spun to face him.
“Call it what you want.” She snorted. “But Greg insisted I finish my college and graduate studies.” She lifted her chin proudly and gave him a one-sided smile. “I have a Master’s Degree in Interior Design. Of course, I never used it, except to decorate my own place.” Her gaze scanned the off-white furniture, hand painted bedstead, and gilded mirror adorning the wall. “I lived well. Carefree. Happy in a selfish way. Until I realized the emptiness of my life. I wanted a real family. A husband and children to love. And not only material things.” She played with the ring on her right hand, a priceless ruby embedded in a large gold setting sparkling with baguette diamonds.
Greg had good taste. How did he let go of his expensive babe? “He gave you a divorce without any problem?”
“Are you kidding? He protested a lot at the beginning.” She raised her eyebrows, and he almost laughed at her wily grin. “But I threatened to expose the affairs he thought he’d hidden carefully. Anyway, he was as generous in the divorce as he’d been during our marriage. He insisted I should live in this apartment and keep everything he gave me. He’d continue to protect me, as he said.” She shrugged with a scoff. “To own me is more correct.” A shiver shook her. “I have to go away. Start a new life on my own.”
Maybe Dante could show her she didn’t have to leave town in order to get rid of her tyrannical former husband. Maybe he could help her be independent here in Fort Lauderdale. With him at her side.
Except that right now, he had more pressing commitments. He had to make sure his nonna and sister were safe. But to lose Alexa, as soon as he’d returned...
He exhaled his frustration. “I don’t think you can go away tomorrow.”
****
Avoiding the pool area, they strolled through the garage and the terrace overlooking the beach. Alexa toed off her sandals, rolled her pants up to her knees, and plowed through the moist sand.
Holding her hand, Dante smiled at her, his touch and gaze warming her chilled heart. “Did you hear anything about the cause of Steve’s death?”
She was glad he asked. Maybe if she talked to him—got her doubts off her chest—she’d be able to sleep tonight. Dante was a successful criminal lawyer and the only man she trusted.
“Greg said the Medical Examiner would have an autopsy as soon as possible.”
Dante nodded. “Obviously. Because Steve Bairey died suddenly, and in a public area.”
“Do you think his coming to my apartment had
anything to do with his death?” She chewed on her bottom lip, cursing herself for letting Steve in. The last thing she needed was to see her name trashed by gossip and the events preceding the tragedy detailed in the newspapers. Julia would skin her alive. She’d already spat accusations so many times. As if Alexa was responsible for Steve’s philandering. “Do you think planning to leave town caused him undue stress?”
“Relax. You had nothing to do with his death. Don’t feel guilty, just because he visited for…” He paused and frowned. “How long did he stay in your place?”
“Less than half an hour.”
“A healthy man doesn’t develop heart attack symptoms in half an hour.” His breathtaking smile reassured her more than words. “But you are going to give yourself an ulcer if you keep torturing yourself.”
“Thanks. I’ll try not to think about it until the detective shows up.”
“The police will probably run an investigation. It’s customary procedure. If you want, I’ll be at your side as your lawyer.”
“I hope I don’t need a lawyer. But just in case, I’d love you to stay when the detective questions me.” Trying to smile, she tilted her head and ended up sighing. “I trust you.”
Propelling her against his chest, he held her tightly. Her tumultuous heartbeat echoed against his. Gliding her hands over his pecs, she raked her fingers through the dark curls. Corded muscles pulled the bronze tanned skin of his chest, and lower, hardness pressed against her belly, triggering an insatiable hunger in her stomach. She cushioned her head against the hollow of his neck. Oh Dante, if only you could hold me forever.
A wistful dream. It was the wrong time to indulge in self-pity when she’d striven to be a strong person ever since she’d stunned Greg with her request for divorce. The only right decision she’d ever made.
She raised her head from Dante’s shoulder and surveyed the expanse of sand. Dusk already shrouded the ocean and people had deserted the beach for dinner.
Touching her chin with his finger, Dante tilted her head toward him. “Care for a swim?”
“I’d love to but—”
“I guess you’re not wearing a bathing suit. We can swim in the nude.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, his lips parting in a wide grin.
She chuckled. “Actually I’m wearing a bikini under my clothes.”
“My tough luck.” He burst out laughing. Before she could answer, he yanked his shirt off, and then peeled her blouse over her head. “Let’s go.”
Energized by his enthusiasm, she wriggled out of her capris, rolled them, and folded her blouse. He snatched them out of her hands and strode to the dry sand to drop them in a heap. She’d always been too neat, too organized, the way her father and then Greg expected her to be.
So what if her clothes got sandy? So what if she gave in to her desire of being in Dante’s arms?
“Come on. You’re wasting time.”
“Wasting time? It’s not as if we have anything important to do.” She sank her bare feet into the sand.
“Sure we do.” A wicked smile brightened his face as he tugged at her hand. “Wanna know what we’re going to do in the ocean?”
“Oh.” Her heart sang. “Anything exciting?” She was more than ready to share what he had in mind.
Chapter Three
Dante held Alexa’s hand as they sauntered into the ocean and idled. Easing away, she paused, the gentle waves bursting against her thighs. He turned toward her. And swallowed. Her wet bikini hugged her perfect curves and didn’t leave much to the imagination. His gaze roamed over the generous breasts, spilling out of her bra, and lingered on her trim waist. A tiny diamond sparkled in her belly button, sending a hot surge through his groin. Suppressing a groan, he spun toward the ocean.
“You go ahead.” She backed up two steps and rubbed her arms, shivering. “I like to feel the water slowly.”
And I’d like to feel... He resisted the temptation to warm her in his arms and share the heat that consumed him. “Come deeper. It’s the best moment of the day to take a swim.”
At his urging, she glided forward and started swimming. He dove and kicked the water in a vigorous crawl to cool his overheated mind and body. When he surfaced again, she was floating on her back, eyes closed, hair drifting around her face like a copper pillow. The moonlight streamed silver rays on her lovely figure and highlighted her tanned coloration.
His hand itched to feel every inch of her skin. Giving in to temptation, he traced her mouth with the pad of his thumb. Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. The rise and fall of her breasts accelerated, beckoning to him. His body thrummed with arousal, but he couldn’t rush her now that he’d uncovered the depth of her vulnerability. Even if it killed him, he’d be willing to just hold her, to make her feel safe in his arms.
Filled with good intentions, he ushered her to a shallower area where they could both stand. Without a word, he pulled her against him and kept her embraced, while willing his cock to behave and relax.
Entwining her fingers behind his neck, she tilted her head and kissed his cheek. Her sensual, full lips licked his, nipping at his lower one. He remained still, letting her have her way, and praying for control.
Snatching her mouth away, she pouted. “What’s wrong?” Confusion flitted across her face. “Are you afraid someone might see us? It’s rather dark now,” she said, waving at the mirrored surface of the water.
“It’s not that. I don’t want to rush…”
“Rush? You’ve been gone for two months and for the last hour…”
His gaze swept over her face. To hell with good intentions and restraint. Alexa wanted passion, not compassion.
He lowered his mouth and captured hers, plundering, tasting, savoring, and she returned his kiss with eagerness. While his tongue played and swirled around hers, his hand reached down and cupped her bottom, molding her to him. She leaned on his shoulders, raised her legs up to encircle his back… and tumbled them both into the surf.
They instantly disentangled and emerged, laughing and sputtering. “I don’t want to drown you,” he said.
“Don’t worry. I was a team swimmer at school and learned to dance under water.” She wiped her eyes while he tossed his head aside to shake the water out of his hair. “But we’re definitely out of luck today,” she grumbled.
“We’ll make our luck.” He resolutely carried her closer to the shore and knelt in the wet sand, pulling her down with him. The waves slapped against his back and unfolded over their shoulders.
His body still tense, he kissed her slowly and deeply, exploring and plundering. She curled her fingers around his nape, holding his head angled as she returned his kisses. Tongues lapped and stroked. Lust returned. Blood pounded in his groin. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman in his life.
“Dante, I’m so glad you came back,” she whispered.
As the current carried them away from the shore, she clung to him, deliciously sensual. His breathing rough, he strummed his hands up and down her hips, nuzzling her ear and trailing kisses along her throat, down to her collarbone. Her moans wafted with the gentle tap of the waves and she squirmed, her stomach rubbing against his erection. He groaned.
Then he paused, and raised his head. Their eyes met, hers glittering under the glimmer of moonlight.
This wasn’t comfort sex anymore. Not on her part, and certainly not on his part. It was him seeking to hold the woman he desired so much. For two long months, he’d fantasized about finding her eagerly waiting for him.
But the wide ocean even under a romantic moonlight was the wrong place for their first time. He wanted to make love to her in a comfortable bed, take his time to lavish her with caresses, and hear her scream his name as she wriggled under him.
“Darling, we can’t continue this here. Someone may see us, even in the dark. I’d rather not cause a scandal now.” He held her, waiting for their breathing to slow down.
Bracing both arms around his waist, Alexa nodded. Sanity returned
to her dazed mind. Was it the present crisis that had stressed her to the breaking point? Or Dante’s charm driving her to forget her self-imposed principles?
She cringed and cast him a quick look, blessing his restraint. “We better go back,” she said, infusing as much determination as possible into her tone.
Although her legs hardly supported her, she felt invigorated by the night air and the ocean breeze. A sudden euphoria washed over her. She wasn’t lonely anymore. She had Dante here.
“Yes, it’s seven forty,” he said, after checking his watch. He gave her a heart-stopping smile and kissed her lightly on the lips. “We’ll dry while walking back to the building.”
They strolled to the dry sand. She slipped on her sandals and gathered her blouse and capris. “I’ll barely have the time to change into something more suitable to meet the detective.”
Dante shrugged. “Don’t worry about the detective. You won’t face him alone. I’ll be with you all the time.”
Relief flooded her. It was good to have a true friend and support at her side, but their crazy, lovely interlude should not be repeated. Holding hands, they sauntered along the beach.
“Tell me more about Sicily.” Tell me anything that would help me forget this building and my damn neighbors.
“Palermo is a picturesque old seaport, bustling with activities. People are in the street all the time, talking loud, gesticulating. I’ll take you sometime.”
She kicked a shell with her sandaled foot. “I’d love to go. Do you live in the city itself? I mean in the downtown?”
“We have an apartment in the downtown. My grandfather used it as pied-à-terre to conduct his business, and we have a big house far from the city, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.”
Impressed, she glanced at him in the dark, but couldn’t detect his expression. Was he from an old Sicilian family, boasting of nobility?
“How come you speak English without an accent?” He’d told her about his Sicilian parentage the night before he left for the old country.
The Ultimate Romance Box (6 Bestselling Romance Novels) Page 56
