Mi Carino - Risky Love

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Mi Carino - Risky Love Page 7

by Sienna Mynx


  “Hello Marcella.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “The door, love.”

  Marcella rose from her desk. She walked out of her office and looked out of the large gallery windows. The delivery van pulled away, and a black car pulled up in its space. “Is that you?” she asked. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

  “I travelled the boardwalk looking for your gallery, in search of my Marcella, the Afro-Cuban.”

  “Your Marcella?” She scoffed, but kept smiling. “I told you I’m half Cuban.”

  “I like the half.” came his smoky reply.

  The buyers were leaving. “Is that your flower guy?” Garrett asked.

  “I’m on my way,” Marcella grabbed her purse and coat. Crazy as it seemed she didn’t hesitate, not for a second. She hurried down the steps with her heels click-clacking over the floors. “Are you leaving?” Garrett asked.

  “I need to take care of this before the man shuts us down with these flowers. Can you handle the day?”

  Garrett smirked. “I’ll do my best hun. Remember I’m no salesman I just pay the light bill.”

  “Behave, both of you.” Marcella pointed at Sam who shrugged. She winked at Garrett then pushed open the gallery door, letting the cold wet air wash over her. The rain had stopped, but the moisture still instantly flattened her hair. A driver stood on the sidewalk, the door to a Cadillac behind him. A different driver than the one she saw before. She quickly hurried over. Before climbing in she glanced back to see Garrett and Sam through the gallery window, watching her with lopsided grins to their faces. She smiled. It was kind of exciting to be pursued again.

  “Thank you.” Marcella slipped inside. Those dark soulful eyes of his turned from the window to take her in. He rested his elbow at the sill, his pointer finger to his temple, thumb under his chin. She had wanted to see him again, if for anything, for the chance to give him a piece of her mind. But now, she was reduced to a flutter of excitement and nerves, which robbed her of the ability to speak.

  “Nice,” Diego said.

  “Gracias Señor Diego.”

  A sudden flash of warmth sparked in his stare. “You look beautiful.” He mouthed. For a brief moment she forgot what a jerk he was the last time she saw him. The compliments made her blush and sit up straight, breasts forward. Today she wore a grey pleated skirt. She crossed her legs. Her actions caused her skirt to move back further, his brow lifted, so she uncrossed them nervously. The skirt was shorter than its conservative intent, therefore, both leg and thigh were revealed. She tugged at the hem to be careful of showing her garter stocking. Pantyhose were so blasé but she felt so feminine in garters and the weather required she cover up. Her powder blue silk blouse had a matching silk scarf that she tied under the neck. Sucking in a deep air of confidence she returned her gaze to him. “I want you to stop. I came out here to tell you not to send another flower. My boss will go insane with hay fever. It’s over the top what you’ve done, too much.”

  “You brought your purse and coat to tell me bye?”

  The car drove out on the half-thawed road away from Market Street and the boardwalk. Marcella set her coat and purse between them. She preferred the barrier. “Cute, real cute,” she said. She should have let him offer her lunch or request her company formally first, then torture him some. But instead she ran out the door with all her things, ready for whatever. She sucked at this mating dance.

  Diego didn’t seem displeased. He appeared sharply dressed, as expected, in a tailored grey pinstripe suit and vest again. The open collar of his shirt revealed his olive tanned neck and chest. His hair was combed back from his face, eyes still compelling and focused solely on her.

  “The flowers were the least I could do for upsetting you.”

  “Is that an apology?”

  Diego smirked. “I don’t know the word.”

  “Okay. Driver! Please stop the car.”

  “Calm down beautiful. For you, yes.” He added quickly. He placed his hand on her. Directly to her thigh! He just reached over her barrier and touched her. Marcella looked down at his advance. She froze. His palm warm, and firm. His fingers reached to move the hem of her skirt, with nails manicured, short and even. Marcella met his stare and swallowed her objection.

  “Please accept my apology.”

  “I do.”

  “And gracias for a second chance.”

  “I figured you deserve a chance to prove me wrong.”

  His left brow lifted. The car veered off the main road to one that winded upward through tall Redwoods and the mountains. Diego’s palm slipped to her inner thigh. Suddenly she wished she hadn’t chosen to wear a skirt, this frisky garment in particular.

  “Wrong? What about?”

  “That I’m a jerk magnet. Seems I attract them by the droves. Could you please remove your hand?”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “No, you aren’t a jerk magnet,” he said with an easy smirk. Did he not hear her me? Irritated she grabbed his hand and removed it from her thigh. Diego gave her a long look but obeyed her wishes. “Where are we going?”

  “I want a do over,” he said.

  “Do over?”

  “Yes.” His gaze returned to the passenger window.

  Marcella checked the passing scenery for a clue. She really needed to get out more, this part of Delgado was devastatingly beautiful. The splash of colorful flowers blooming towards the end of winter was sprinkled over green lush landscape. Then they found themselves in deep shade when the tall tree branches extended and covered both sides of the road. Soon they emerged and she recognized the destination. Vino Celeste Vineyard was situated deep in this valley near the cliffs of Mount Tegra. She’d visited a tasting here with Susan last year. Now recognizing where she was she understood the purpose of this little impromptu road trip. Colorful flags on poles stood along both sides of the road advertising a winter celebration that is held each year, just before spring returns to the valley.

  “You want to do the festival at Celeste?” she asked.

  “What can I say, I’m in the mood for a tasting.”

  Despite herself she laughed lightly. Marcella admittedly enjoyed his company. She just wished he didn’t come off so strong. He’d definitely need to learn to keep his hands to himself or she’d be hiking out of the valley. “It’s kind of nippy out.”

  “I’ll keep you warm. I believe it may rain today, though.”

  “You think so?”

  “Not yet, but soon,” he nodded. “Look.”

  Marcella leaned over to the right, and her breast brushed his arm. Diego’s gaze lowered to look at her and she pretended not to notice. She checked the sky for what he saw. In the distance dark rain clouds bloomed against the sky. They rolled in from the mountains.

  “I knew a rainmaker once in Colombia. See those clouds?” He pressed the button on the inside of the door. The tinted glass rolled down, a wave of moist air blew in. Marcella moved back instead of forward. Diego continued. “The rainmaker said when the rainclouds come and move west and the sun could be seen to the east, you have maybe a two to three hour lead on the rain.”

  “You made that up.” She chuckled then looked up into his eyes. He stared down mysteriously into hers. Marcella smiled. “Nice story.”

  The car drove through the gates of the vineyard and a man in an orange vest motioned for them to park in the designated lot. Soon after the door opened. Diego slipped out, but his hand remained open to her. Marcella grabbed her coat opting to leave her purse behind. The wind gusts gave her coattail a lift as she eased it on. In the sky the storm clouds separated and joined, blocking out the sun. She had to tug on the sides of her skirt to draw it back down to her knees; it had crept up and gathered around her hips.

  “You’re going to have to trust me beautiful,” he said softly. “I like your legs, no need to cover them.”

  She blushed harder. Marcella imagined that he could have taken her to lunch again
, and the gesture would have been a good start, but somehow she would rather be with him in this relaxed environment. She felt uncomfortable with his sex appeal when they were alone. At least here, under the storm clouds she felt less intimidated.

  Diego’s gloved hand took hold of hers. He walked away from the car toward the tents. The wind on her face and in her eyes she squinted at the festival banner flapping above, then continued to lift her eyes upward. The sky did look ominous. She silently prayed the rain would hold until she got to know her persistent suitor, or at the very least sampled some good wines. She inhaled the sweet lemon grass as it swayed lightly against her ankles, and the mesquite from the open grill. The vineyard served up tasty burgers and roasted corn on the cob. Diego, taller than her, had a confident stride. They walked hand in hand to the first tent. “What do you prefer?”

  “Merlot’s mostly. I like a heavy smoothness to my wine.”

  He nodded in the direction of the first tent. The young blond behind the extended lawn table smiled and held up a bottle. “Welcome to the Winter Festival. I have here a white. The taste and aroma will give you the freshness of biting into a peach. May I?”

  Marcella smiled. The woman poured a sample in a small plastic cup and handed it to her. One sip and Marcella licked her lips taking down the rest. The tasting forgotten, she now wanted a full glass. The woman giggled. “Good isn’t it?”

  “Sweet, yes but it’s dry too. I like it.”

  Diego tugged on her hand. “How about we try the Sauvignon?” He declined the sample. “The only thing sweet I want today is you.”

  Normally the comment would have prompted an eye roll, but she felt light on her feet when it came wrapped in his heavy accent. “Uh, sure.”

  Together they strolled past a few tents until he selected another. Diego gave her a look for approval and she shrugged her shoulders. “The lady would like a taste.”

  “Of course.” The older gentleman offered her a pleasant nod. “This cabernet has a hint of black pepper, currants and cherries. It gives a very smoky oak flavoring.”

  Marcella sipped and the let the cabernet roll over her tongue and stimulate her taste buds. She glanced up at Diego. He brought a tiny cube of dark chocolate to her lips and she ate from his fingers. An explosion of flavor went through her and even in the chilly day she felt nice and cozy. “It’s warm, smooth. I like it.”

  Diego accepted a taste, he smirked his approval. They continued through the festival tasting merlots, sauvignons, blush wines, rinsing their mouths with the bottle of water handed to them, and learning the history of the vineyard. The entire time he could not keep his hands off her. Either to the small of her back on her hip, he touched her whenever he was close. Soon the tasting became a little more as she found herself drinking instead of sampling.

  The Celeste hosted a live local band and stage show, an open grill with free burgers, and tents with games for kids and parents. The air balloon ride had closed down due to the weather. Everything else was quite lovely, even with the heady scent of an approaching rain in the air. Diego walked her over to a tent with stuffed animals. “How much?” he asked the vendor. Above them were all kinds of stuffed teddy bears and unicorns ranging in all the colors of the rainbow. They dangled and swayed in the wind, from hooks at the top of the booth. The barker stood before a wall of balloons. “Two dollars for three throws.”

  “You strike me as a stuffed animal type of woman.” Diego said digging in his pocket.

  Marcella looked up at the prizes. She frowned. “Well ah…not really.”

  “Shall I win one for you?”

  The idea of him trying tempted her. He seemed eager, almost boyish when he sought her approval.

  “Sure, if you can.”

  “If?”

  “I hear this is pretty difficult, the way the balloons are positioned you could, miss.”

  ¡Es absurdo! He declared with an air of authority. He withdrew a fold of bills from a platinum money clip. The poor guy behind the booth’s eyes nearly dropped from their sockets at the mark. Diego handed over a fifty-dollar bill. “How many do I have to hit before I get one of those?” He pointed upward.

  The man licked his chapped lips. “You have to hit the three red ones in the center consecutively, the other colors go down in prize.”

  “I want to win,” Diego said sternly. He narrowed his sight on the man. Marcella frowned at the threat she heard in his tone. Apparently the man heard it too. He nodded repeatedly that it would be a forgone conclusion.

  Diego accepted the darts and started throwing before the man could jump out of the way. Marcella double blinked at his tenacity, and laughed at how horrible he was. He hit everywhere but at a balloon. The barker kept passing him darts and Diego kept missing, cursing in Spanish. She couldn’t stop laughing. Finally he hit one. Then he shot the man a menacing glare. The guy clapped and told him he won immediately.

  Marcella laughed harder. Diego smiled proud of himself. He accepted a green bear that would cost no more than five dollars at a local drug store. She stifled her grin.

  “You like it, no?” Diego asked.

  Marcella wiped at her tears. “Ah, yeah.”

  Satisfied he gave her a curt nod. Together they walked around the vineyard pretty much hand in hand. He tried another game—a toss of rings over the necks of bottles. Mysteriously when his nostrils flared and he cursed and huffed enough the vendor handed over another stuffed animal. She was beginning to see a pattern.

  “Shall we eat?” Diego asked.

  “I am hungry after all that tasting and dart throwing, I’m sure you are too.”

  “I can get us some burgers, corn? More wine, a bottle of the harvest wine you liked?”

  “Sure. I’ll find us a table.” The wind picked up a notch and she felt the first signs of a drizzle as she walked toward the picnic tables. She found an empty bench with a pavilion. Dropping the stuffed animals on the table she grimaced when she checked the heel of her $100 dollar shoes. The heels were caked with soil and dirt. When she looked back she saw him buy a bottle of wine and get two cups. Then he stood in the short line to order their burgers. Marcella had the opportunity to view him without the awkwardness of openly staring. Again she marveled at his height. He had the body of a boxer but dressed like a stockbroker. His suits were expensively tailored to his large frame but seemed in complete contrast to the brooding roughness he exuded. Men around him seemed shorter, less virile.

  Diego returned just before the rain started. People screamed and ran for the doors of the Vineyard or ducked under tents. A few crowded in their pavilion. Marcella rose. She took the plates for him and he sat across from her with an uncorked wine bottle. “I bought a merlot; I’m told it has a ripe raspberry flavor to it.”

  “Perfect for this hamburger.” She grinned.

  He looked up into her eyes. “Sorry about the rain.”

  “It’s okay, we’re dry. And it’s lunchtime. It gives off atmosphere.” She accepted the plastic cup and sipped the wine. “Yummy!” she winked.

  “I’m glad you’re pleased. I like pleasing you.” Diego said.

  “Why?”

  He bit into his hamburger nearly swallowing half of the sandwich. He chewed watching her as she took a bite of hers. “I’m serious. Why are you doing this? The flowers were a nice apology but a day at the vineyard. You put some thought into this.”

  “I put a lot of thought into you. Is it wrong to want your company?”

  “No.” She swallowed, and then wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “But I get the feeling this is more about your ego than it is about me.”

  “Really?” He said curiously.

  “Yes. I rejected you. Ego. You did all of this to score some points. Ego. Now you plan to prove yourself to be irresistible. Ego.”

  Diego chuckled. “My ego wants to know, is it working? Am I irresistible?” He poured more wine. Marcella’s eyes stretched to see he’d eaten the entire burger in three or four bites. Did he even bother to chew? He dr
ank a bit then looked out to the rain. “I’ll admit I like the challenge.”

  “Exactly. And to answer your question you’d need to loosen up a bit to be irresistible.” She set her burger down. Sipping her wine she kept her eyes trained on him.

  Diego feigned shock. “I’m loose.”

  “Nope. Look at you.”

  He lowered his gaze, frowning at his expensive tie with the diamond tiepin. “Que? What is it?”

 

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