“Are you jealous, Annie?” he asked, his lips curling up in a bemused smile that only aggravated her more.
“Jealous!” she fumed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll have you know, Detective Giordiano, I don’t have a jealous bone in my body.”
“I brought you a present,” he said, trying to entice her. She looked down at him in surprise. The streetlight cast a golden glow on his hair, making it appear even blacker.
“What kind of a present?” she asked suspiciously.
“Tell you what. You come down and check out your present.” He grinned suddenly. “And I’ll check out your bones—just to make sure you don’t have any jealous ones,” he assured her, his grin sliding wider.
The man was impossible. Charming but impossible, and she had absolutely no intention of going outside to see him.
“I’ll be right down,” she called. Turning from the window, Annie grabbed a sweater and went out, letting the screen door slam behind her.
Sal was sitting on the porch, leaning against the railing with his long legs stretched out in front of him. He looked up at her and smiled. “Pull up a step.” He patted the space right next to him, and against her better judgment she sat down.
“So, where’s my present?” she finally asked, forcing her voice to remain neutral.
Sal turned to look at her. His eyes were twinkling with mischief. He dug into his suit jacket, which was folded neatly on the stairs. Frowning, Annie stared blankly at the hard white mass he dropped into her hand.
She frowned. “What is this? A baseball?”
Sal laughed. “It’s a dumpling. Or at least that’s what Mrs. Altero claimed it was. You should have seen me trying to smuggle it out of there.”
She laughed softly. “What on earth did you have for dinner?”
He groaned and rubbed his stomach. “Indigestion.”
Annie laughed. “Poor thing.” Served him right, she thought smugly. “It’s your own fault,” she scolded. “You could have had dinner with me.” The moment the words were out, she was sorry. He tilted his head to look at her, a curious expression in his eyes.
“I would have much preferred to have dinner with you, Annie,” he said quietly, looking directly into her eyes until she glanced away. Oh, Lord, he was back to the industrial-strength charm again, she thought in alarm.
Sal reached out and laced his fingers through hers. “So, what did you do tonight?”
Annie shifted uncomfortably. She’d never felt awkward or uncomfortable talking to Sal before. But now, sitting so near to him, having her hand encased in his, she felt an air of electricity between them. It was as thick as syrup and just as hard to ignore. She was just so aware of him beside her, looking at her, smiling at her.
“Paperwork, housework.” She shrugged. Thought about you.
He tightened his fingers on her hand and tugged her closer. “Why are you sitting so far away? I won’t bite.” His thigh brushed against hers and she trembled.
“How’s Dancing David?” he inquired, trying to sound casual.
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him since he came into the store this morning.”
“Good.” He turned his head away from her to glance down the street.
“You really don’t like him, do you Sal?”
He turned to face her “Do you?” he asked again. His eyes held hers. Great waves of warmth rippled over her as they stared at each other in the darkness of the night.
“He’s…he’s…” Annie licked her lips as Sal gently caressed her hand.
“I know, he’s clean and nice,” he said, parroting her own words. “Come here, Annie,” he whispered, and she went, scooting closer to him until they were sitting thigh to thigh. He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close, turning her around until she was cradled with her back against the soft pad of his chest. Sighing, Annie tried to relax, tried to calm the frantic pounding of her heart. She laid her head back and closed her eyes as Sal wrapped his arms around her.
She inhaled deeply. His heady fragrance of musk and maleness teased and delighted her senses.
“I’m just checking your bones,” he whispered in her ear, running his hands slowly up and down her arms in a leisurely caress. “Annie?”
She shivered. “What, Sal?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“Would you go out with me?”
She smiled in the darkness. “Sal, I am out with you.”
“No, Annie,” he said quietly. “I mean really out with me. On a date.” He’d wrestled with the idea all day long, trying to come to grips with his feelings for Annie and his guilt. His feelings had won out, finally.
“A date?” Annie swallowed hard as her heart gave a great leap.
A crooked grin tilted the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, you know, like the one you went on with Dancing David. Me, you, dinner, maybe some dancing or a show. What do you say?”
Momentarily stunned, Annie sat perfectly still. The only sound in the night’s darkness was their mingled breaths and her pounding heart.
“Sal,” she began carefully. “Don’t you think you’re carrying this chaperoning thing a bit far?”
He grabbed her shoulders, shifting her so she was half lying across his lap, her face hovering just below his. His eyes went over her face and he felt a sudden tightening in his loins. At the moment, chaperoning was the last thing on his mind.
“What does going on a date with me have to do with chaperoning?” he asked quietly, and Annie sighed, trying hard not to look into his beautiful eyes.
“Sal, why are you asking me for a date all of a sudden?”
“Well,” he said, lifting a finger to tease a tendril of hair that had slipped across her cheek. “You’re nice and clean—” He stopped. “I do believe you told me those were the qualities one should appreciate in a date,” he explained, and Annie laughed.
“I know,” she murmured, feeling confused. “But why—”
“Annie,” he said quietly, his eyes searching hers. “I care about you.”
He was so close she could see the laugh lines around his mouth, see the tenderness in his eyes. It made her heart ache with longing. Annie reached up and touched his face. He needed a shave and she loved the gritty texture of his face. “And I care about you.”
Sal frowned in confusion, clearly not understanding. “Then what’s the problem?”
“Sal, do you remember right after Tony died?” She waited for his nod, trying to ease the confusion in his eyes. “I was so lost, so alone. And then you came to my rescue like a knight in shining armor,” she said softly, reaching up to touch his face again. He caught her hand and held it. “You always knew just the right thing to do, the right thing to say. You always made me feel so much better about myself, about everything.” Her eyes sought his for understanding. “Whenever I needed you, no matter what the reason, I knew I could count on you. I never felt quite so alone when you were around.” She smiled tenderly. “I’ll always be grateful to you, Sal—”
“Annie,” he growled. “You have nothing to be grateful for.”
“Please, let me finish. It’s only natural for us to feel an emotional bond to one another. We’ve been through so much together. Sharing the pain of Tony’s death, of course it would draw us together. Grief has a way of doing that,” she said sadly, pausing to take a deep breath. “But you don’t have to worry about me anymore, Sal. I know you felt like you owed it to Tony to look after me, but I can’t be your personal burden any longer.”
“Annie.” The tone of his voice caused her to glance up at him. Her eyes went over his face, and her heart constricted. He was so handsome. He made her feel things she’d never felt before, things that touched the walls of her soul.
“If you think,” he said quietly, “that I want to go out with you because I’m emotionally attached to you because of some strange idea you have about us being bound together, you’re wrong.”
“Sal, what you’re feeling is perfectly
normal under the circumstances. You feel protective and possessive, but it doesn’t mean anything. It will pass.”
“Annie,” he growled, slipping a finger under her chin and lifting her face so she was forced to look into his eyes. “What I’m feeling is not going to pass; this isn’t the mumps, you know.” What he was feeling had a name, but he was almost afraid to think it, let alone say it. He had to come to terms with his own guilt first.
Annie glanced away, wondering exactly what it was he was feeling. Protectiveness, certainly. Possessiveness, definitely, but anything beyond that she was certain was only a reflex action. If only he would listen to her and believe her. She had to keep them both from getting carried away.
“Sal, I think—” His mouth covered hers and a whimper of pleasure escaped her when Sal’s lips touched hers. Annie arched against him, tightening her arms and drawing him close. She sighed in contentment as Sal’s tongue parted her lips and his kiss deepened.
He gently caressed the length of her back, his touch warm against the thin cotton of her shirt, heating her skin. His arms cradled her as her senses reeled. Annie moved her hands restlessly, gently roaming across his broad shoulders and back.
His tongue teased her, coaxing a willing response until a yearning ignited deep inside. She clung to him, whimpering softly, following his lead, doing as he did and enjoying the wild sensations he aroused in her.
“Sal, please,” she whispered, gently pushing him away. “We have to stop.”
He lifted his head, his eyes glittering with desire. “Why, Annie?”
She inched out of his arms. It would be easier to talk—to think—if he wasn’t so close. “Because,” she said softly, struggling to regain some composure. This wasn’t going to help the situation between them. One of them had to keep their head. “Sal, I know you’re used to this kind of thing.”
“What the hell does that mean?” he growled. “What do you mean, ‘this kind of thing’?”
She took a deep breath. “You have a lot of experience with…I…I…don’t want to be just another one of your…women.”
Sal swore under his breath. “Annie, you would never be just another woman. Don’t you know that? What’s happening between us—”
She stopped the flow of his words with her fingertips. “What’s happening between us is perfectly normal,” she said, knowing the words were a lie. What was happening to her was warm and wonderful, and not in the least normal.
“Annie, listen.” He tried to put his arms around her again, but she held him at bay. “You really think this is some kind of attachment thing?”
“Yes,” she said with a conviction she no longer felt.
“And what if it’s not, Annie? What if it’s something more?” His eyes met hers and her heart did a nosedive. “Are you willing to dismiss it so easily?”
Oh, Lord. Annie turned away, tearing her gaze from his to stare down the darkened street. What he was saying was everything she’d been feeling but had tried to deny.
“Annie,” he said quietly. “I know I’ve had a lot of…experience with women. Maybe that’s why I’m so sure this isn’t an attachment thing, or something that will pass, but something more.”
His words caused a lump to form in her throat and Annie turned to look at him. His eyes looked bleak and forlorn. She reached out and covered his hand with hers.
“I’ve never felt this way before,” Sal admitted, a sad smile on his face. “And I feel guilty as hell, too. I probably shouldn’t be feeling what I do, Annie. God! You’re my best friend’s wife—”
“Widow,” she corrected softly. “I’m a widow, Sal.”
“Yeah, widow,” he said with a wry grimace. “All I know is that if you have any doubt at all about this attachment thing, then all I want is a chance, Annie. A chance,” he repeated. “And then one way or another we’ll know for sure. So what do you say? Will you go out with me?” Something flickered in his eyes, and she smiled as her heart filled with joy.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll go out with you.”
He grinned, grabbing her up and hugging her tightly. “There’s just one thing, Annie.”
She could feel his heart thudding through the thin fabric of his shirt. It matched the wicked rate of her own. “What, Sal?”
“I’m not wearing a damn skirt,” he grumbled.
Annie laughed softly. “Good. I prefer my men to wear pants.”
Her men. Sal tightened his arms around her. If he had his way, there would be no other men in Annie’s life. Ever. Now, all he had to do was convince her of that.
Chapter Seven
“Annie! Don’t you look lovely.” Rosina looked up from the shelves she’d been stocking. “Going out with Salvatore again?” Rosina asked hopefully, a wide smile on her wrinkled face.
“Yes,” Annie confirmed. For the past few weeks she’d spent nearly every evening with Sal. They’d gone to a couple of baseball games, out to dinner, to the show. Their relationship had progressed to another level, and now Annie knew for certain there was more than just friendship between them. She could no longer deny the fact that she was falling in love with Sal.
“Do I look all right?” she asked, fingering the collar of the white silk sheath dress she wore. She’d caught her new curls up atop her head, fastening them with a pair of white pearl combs. Pearl earrings and white high-heeled sandals completed her outfit.
“You look lovely,” the older woman insisted, touching Annie’s face gently. “Just lovely. You know, Annie, it’s time,” Rosina said softly, her eyes glowing warmly.
“Time?” Annie frowned. “Time for what?”
“Time for you to find another man.” She held up her hand as Annie started to protest. “I know—I know—it’s none of my business. But I love you like my own, Annie, and it’s not good for you to be alone. You need a man in your life.” Rosina smiled. “Someone like my Salvatore.”
“Rosina,” Annie said carefully, not wanting his mother to get her hopes up. “Sal and I are just—friends.” She was beginning to hate the sound of that word. “Sal just cares for me because he feels loyal to Tony.”
“No, Ann Marie.” Rosina shook her head, her eyes twinkling. “I’m not blind. I see the way he looks at you. The way you look at him. It’s time for Salvatore, too. Time for him to settle down.”
“Rosina, you don’t understand. Sal’s not the kind of man to settle down.” She tried to smile. “The only woman he plans to have a serious relationship with is Sara Lee. He’s as slippery as greased lightning and just as quick. He told me so.”
Rosina frowned, confused. “What is this—greasy lightning? And who is this Sara? I don’t know this woman.”
Annie laughed softly. She’d forgotten Rosina didn’t understand slang. And there was no way to literally translate any of it into Italian. She searched for words to try to explain. “It means Sal’s not about to settle down with one woman. He wants them all. And Sara is… Never mind,” Annie said with a laugh. Florina, who baked everything from scratch, would be appalled to learn her son had a passion for store-bought frozen bakery goods.
“No, no.” Rosina shook her head. “Salvatore—he sees lots of women because he just hasn’t found the right one. Giordiano men take their time to find the right woman—but when they do…” Rosina smiled dreamily, patting Annie’s cheek. “Papa and Mama were married almost fifty years. And Salvatore’s father and I, we were married almost as long.” She sighed heavily, clutching a hand to her breast. “When a Giordiano man finds the right woman—ahh! She will be a lucky woman, Annie. Salvatore, he will make a good husband. Very good.”
Annie knew without a doubt Sal would make a good husband. If he ever settled down. Sal’s woman. Just the thought brought a tingle of pleasure. What would it be like to belong to him and have his love in return? Heaven, she realized.
But, she acknowledged sadly, that didn’t mean that just because his mother wanted things to work out, they would. Rosina didn’t understand. But she did, all too well. A
nd Annie knew there was no point in trying to explain it. She’d told Sal she would give it a try, but she also knew a leopard couldn’t change its spots. Sal wasn’t the kind of man to be domesticated—right woman or not.
Annie glanced at the large overhead clock. “Rosina, I’m going to go outside to wait for Sal. He said he would be here about six.”
Rosina nodded. “You go and have a good time. Florina and I will close up. Have fun. Just remember what I said.”
Nodding, Annie went outside, closing the door softly behind her. It was still warm out, but the sky was gray, threatening rain. She stood for a moment, trying to decide if she needed her raincoat. The air smelled heavy and damp.
David’s car slid to a halt in front of her. Over the past few weeks he’d stopped by occasionally, but almost as soon as David showed up, Sal seemed to appear out of nowhere. It was odd, almost as if Sal had a radar device on David.
“Ann,” David called, rolling down the window. “Hi. Get in.”
“Just for a moment,” she said, opening the door and climbing in. “I’m waiting for Sal.” Since the night she’d told David she couldn’t have supper with him, he’d repeatedly asked her out, but she had steadfastly refused. There was no point in leading the man on. He was pleasant enough, but her heart belonged to someone else, and it would have been cruel to give David false hope. Yet, despite her gentle rebuffs David still kept coming around, much to Sal’s chagrin.
“You look lovely, Ann,” David said, letting his eyes rest on the gentle curve of her breast. The way he looked at her made her feel extremely uncomfortable. She remembered what Sal had said about David’s concern about her lack of male “attention,” and she flushed.
“Thank you,” she said, shifting uncomfortably.
“You like Sal, don’t you?” David’s lips thinned in displeasure.
Annie smiled. “Yes, very much.”
David’s lips thinned. “I figured as much. I never thought I’d get beat out by—well, never mind.” He reached out and slowly stroked her bare arm, sending a clammy sense of apprehension rippling over her. “It’s a shame, Ann. Really. I’d thought—” He smiled grimly. “Well, it doesn’t matter now.”
Italian Knights Page 9
