by Gina Ardito
“Good.” He squeezed her hand for a brief moment, and a fresh tingle skittered from her wrist to her shoulder. “Why don’t you take a minute to get your bearings while I find out where we’re seated for tonight’s fiasco?”
When he turned away, her mind reran their conversation. Was he right? Oh, not about comparing her to Mother Teresa. Did she think of herself as Superwoman? Did stubborn pride keep her from asking for help? Maybe. But there was more to her reticence than pride.
After placing her faith in that weasel, Frank, and his perfect soulless mate, Rachel…
After surviving their public betrayal…
After facing the fact she’d been lied to for months…
Why on earth would she ever trust anyone else again? What was the old saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Well, this fool had learned her lesson the first time. There could never be a second time. She couldn’t survive a fall like that again. The episode at Madison Elementary taught her one valuable lesson. Rely on no one but yourself and you’ll never be disappointed.
Her conscience simmered and stewed, but her gaze bored into Kyle’s back as he bent to the lace-covered stand to study the small cards scattered over the surface. Still…
Eons of difference stood between the two men. Kyle had honor, integrity, and truthfulness on his side. So far, anyway. Could she dare to place her trust in him? She’d rather not find out. Better to leave things as they were—she and Kyle were friends. In friendship, he couldn’t break her heart. Besides, he was obviously attracted to Hayley.
The moment he turned, place card in hand, she pasted on a more serene expression. No way would she allow him to see how his bitterness affected her.
“We’re at Table Eleven,” he said, waving the folded cardboard as he came near. “Social Siberia. One step away from the street, no doubt.”
Good. When she’d had enough of this circus, their proximity to the exit would make a quick getaway easy. Suddenly, she didn’t feel like the victorious princess anymore. She felt like…
Like a doormat.
Chapter Fourteen
“How about a drink?” Kyle gripped her elbow and steered her toward their table. “A little champagne maybe? Might help soothe your nerves a bit.”
Wasn’t his presence here supposed to do that? Once again, her mind tripped over questions. Why had he come with her tonight? Had Hayley promised some bedroom gymnastics to get him to agree to be seen in public with her? Was this his effort to pay her back? What was worse—his dating her out of pity or out of responsibility? He stared until the serpent of unease slithered down her spine.
Maybe if she sent him on an errand, she’d gain a chance to sort through all the jumbled emotions bouncing around in her stomach. “Y-yes, thank you. That would be nice.” If he noticed her sudden change in attitude, he didn’t mention it.
He pulled a chair away from the table and gestured for her to sit. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” With a gentle squeeze of her shoulder, he disappeared into the glittering crowd.
When a familiar couple approached the table, her disposition didn’t improve. Mark and Adrienne Palmer. Adrienne was another kindergarten teacher at Madison Elementary. Apparently, Rachel had gone out of her way to stack the deck against her, right down to the seating arrangements.
“Gianna, hi!” Adrienne exclaimed as she lowered her very pregnant body into the nearest chair. “I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you?”
“I’m fine,” she replied automatically. “How are you?”
“Tired.” Adrienne placed her hands on the mound of her black velvet-clad stomach. “And fat.”
She smiled. “Not fat. You look beautiful, Adrienne.”
“I agree,” Mark interjected, leaning to kiss his wife’s head.
Adrienne preened under his obvious affection, but kept her gaze on Gianna. “Thanks. But you’re the one who looks beautiful, Gi. Where did you get that dress? It’s absolutely stunning.”
“It’s just something I picked up at Bergdorf’s.” As Adrienne’s eyes narrowed in envy, a sparkle of satisfaction filled her. But the feeling didn’t last. With a sigh she hoped would be mistaken for boredom, she turned to look out over the crowd.
Was this what her life had become? Sitting at a table making small talk with people she didn’t like? Attending the wedding of a couple who’d made a fool of her? Waiting for the return of a man who only came out of sympathy?
Lord, she was pathetic.
With a mixture of relief and anxiety she watched Kyle elbow his way through the crowd, two glasses in hand and an apologetic smile on his face. “Sorry, but all they have is sparkling wine. Domestic, no less. I hope you can stomach this sludge.” As he handed her a glass, he nodded to the Palmers. “Hello.”
“Kyle Hayden,” she introduced him in a flat tone, “Adrienne and Mark Palmer.”
The three exchanged the usual pleasantries but Gianna’s focus remained on the crowds congratulating the bride and groom. She’d made a mistake coming here tonight. No matter how she looked and whom she had on her arm, she’d always be the booby prize in this little carnival sideshow. Gianna Randazzo, the one Frank ditched, the gracious loser.
What had made her think a fancy dress and a new hairstyle would change what these people thought? More importantly, why had she cared? After tonight, she’d never see any of them again. Except for Kyle. And she’d already resigned herself to dealing with her unrequited affection. What a rude awakening. Because despite her fears, despite her promises to never fall for a handsome face again, she’d already done so. Not that she’d ever let on. She’d remind herself his display of affection was a charade. Steel her heart to take his compliments, his attentiveness, and his thoughtfulness as part of an act orchestrated by Hayley.
Other couples filled in the empty seats at their table, two elderly neighbors of Rachel’s parents, the principal of Madison Elementary and his wife, and a lesbian couple from Rachel’s university days. While the remaining guests found their seats, a five-piece band played soft easy listening music.
Moments later, a guitar strummed, and the lead singer spoke into the microphone. “We’d like to invite Mr. and Mrs. Frank Capelli to the dance floor for their very first dance as man and wife. And for this special occasion, they’ve chosen the beautiful melody, ‘You’re My Love.’”
While the guests applauded, the couple rose and, hands laced, moved to the center of the room. They danced together, gazes locked in mutual adoration. Someone clinked a knife against a glass, and the noise became a symphony. Shouts of “Kiss her, kiss her!” filled the room until at last, Rachel grabbed Frank’s collar and practically swallowed him whole.
Gag me.
Then, the singer announced, “We’d like to invite the bridal party to join them.”
“So,” Adrienne said to Kyle, “how did you two meet?”
Panic almost had Gianna bolting from the room, but she feigned acute interest in the couples on the dance floor and prayed Kyle would know what to say. Had he and Hayley discussed that subject? She thought they had, but couldn’t clearly remember.
Before Kyle formed a reply, the bandleader interrupted with, “How about all you other couples in love? Let’s see you out there now.”
Kyle rose and pushed back his chair. “That’s our cue, sweetheart.” He turned to Adrienne. “Would you excuse us, please?”
“Of course,” she replied with a nod and an indulgent smile. “Mark, would you care to dance?”
While Mark rose to assist his wife to her feet, Gianna took Kyle’s hand and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. Her legs trembled, and angry butterflies fought for space in her crowded belly. But the butterflies, the green-eyed monster, and all the other fluttery creatures residing inside her disappeared the moment he took her in his arms. Then, she transformed into a thick liquid, pliant and completely dependent upon him to stay upright.
“Did I tell you how amazing you are?” he whispered.
She ignore
d the shivers his hot breath sent racing down her back and concentrated on her steps in the slow dance. “You said I looked like a goddess. That counts.”
“No, it doesn’t. You should be proud of yourself, Gianna. You showed a lot of guts in coming here and facing these people. I didn’t realize how much until now.”
“I couldn’t have shown up alone. I’m so glad I had you.” The heat in her face nearly overwhelmed her. “God, I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“Yes, it did. I realize you only did this as a favor to Hayley and—”
“Whoa, wait a second.”
He stopped in mid-step, and she landed squarely on his toes.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
Either her apology or her clumsiness spurred him into moving again. “Who said I did this as a favor to Hayley?”
“No one,” she admitted. “I figured since you two are dating…”
“Me? Dating Hayley?” His laughter erupted.
Gianna shrank about five feet in height.
“Why on earth would you think I’m dating Hayley?”
“Well, you went to the Inn on the Sound together,” she explained, the blush of embarrassment deepening to one of foolishness. “And since no one bothered to tell me, I assumed you were trying to protect my feelings.”
“I can’t speak for Hayley, but I didn’t tell you because, in my world, a casual lunch isn’t that big a deal.”
His thumb caressed her lower jaw in a slow, deliberate circle, and his eyes, those honest eyes, opened wider, as if inviting her into their realm.
“Listen to me. I’m here tonight because I want to be here. As for Hayley, I can barely tolerate being in the same room with her.”
When his palm cupped her nape, she found a courage she never knew she had. Before the song ended or the sudden spurt of bravery disappeared, she dared, “Wh-what about me? Can you bear being in the same room with me?”
His mouth descended upon hers in a connection more secure than words. The surrounding world faded. The music quieted. The guests evaporated in swirls of colorful mist. Doubt and fear flew miles away, far into space and time. Nothing existed but Kyle. His lips and tongue inside her, his warmed breath tasting slightly of sweet wine, his heart beating against her own, the woodsy smell of his aftershave, his arms around her, his feet still moving to some unknown rhythm she no longer recognized. Nothing else mattered.
Until she heard the applause.
Breaking away, gasping for breath, she whirled. The hazy daze left her in slow ticks of time. First, she remembered where she was, and then why. Still, the clapping grew louder, loud enough to drown out the thunderous heartbeat pounding in her ears. Another rush of heat flooded her face. But the crowd paid no attention to her. No one applauded the kiss she’d shared with Kyle. They applauded for the bride and groom standing nearby.
“Why don’t we take a walk?” Kyle’s gruff voice cut through the last of the fog. “I think we both need to clear our heads.”
****
Hoping to cool his overheated flesh, Kyle pulled her toward the French doors leading to the exterior gardens. Cold night air wafted, and he escorted Gianna closer to an illuminated fountain in the center of the moonlit grounds. A fine spray of water descended upon his face, soothing lust and restoring logic.
Attending this wedding was the biggest mistake of his life. Even worse than the error in judgment that had brought him to Villa Mare in the first place. What an idiot he was! He thought he could play the lovesick swain without Gianna’s nearness affecting him, but he’d been fooling himself.
Tonight she resembled a golden trophy, the ultimate prize. Holding her on the dance floor brought an acute awareness to his senses. Everything about her intoxicated him. The powdery floral scent of her skin enveloped him, drawing him closer, ever closer. The graceful length of her neck enticed him to taste that delicate column, to latch his lips upon her sweet flesh and drink from her pool.
She folded into his embrace so easily, as if she were a part of him. Her rapid heartbeat echoed his racing pulse, promising a future they couldn’t possibly share.
Her innocent question regarding being in the same room became his undoing. Didn’t she realize how beautiful, how incredibly special she was? Damn those Bambi eyes of hers! They batted and fluttered and made his lips purse to kiss her every single time.
Like the sirens of legend, Gianna lured him into shallow waters, enticing him with eternal happiness, but delivering a much more somber destiny. And like those doomed sailors, he’d follow her to his own end. When they kissed, she fused to him with such ferocity, he’d rather die than part from her.
With a casual sweep, he cast a quick glance inside at the bride and groom on the dance floor. What fools! Especially Frank. Comparing Gianna to Rachel was like comparing Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa to Dogs Playing Poker. Gianna’s dark hair was a thick storm cloud, full of fury. Rachel’s dishwater blond ran more toward stringy and dull. Where Gianna had warm, brown eyes full of laughter and generosity, Rachel’s eyes incited visions of the North Sea in the middle of February. Olive skin versus pale, a curvaceous figure contrasted to a bag of bones.
In every possible category, Gianna Randazzo came out the winner over Rachel Capelli. Hands down. Oddly enough, he didn’t compare the golden Gianna beside him now to Rachel. No, he compared the Gianna he saw everyday since the very first time he set eyes on her. The one who wore her hair in a high ponytail, who covered her lush curves with a white canvas apron, and who needed no artificial enhancements to give her face a glow. The one with a sprinkle of freckles dancing over the bridge of her nose. The one with a smile that lit the night sky like fireworks. The one who made little children laugh and grown men burn. The one with a heart as wide as the ocean.
Oh, he had to give credit to Lucinda. She’d gone way over the budget Rory had set, but the end result was too spectacular to hold a grudge. Gianna looked like a goddess, just as he’d described her earlier. But he far preferred her without the glitter and glamour. Unspoiled, a clear spring deep in the mountains, pure and cleansing to the man fortunate enough to discover her.
Yet whether dressed to the teeth in formalwear or leading a parade with a foil hat on her head, she touched a secret part of him he never knew existed. And he would never be the same again.
His mind tripped over the earlier episode when he’d accused her of martyrdom. Why? The answer burned his conscience. Gianna had only one flaw—her boundless generosity brought out the zealous protector in him. Even now, he wanted to keep her tucked inside his embrace, safe from the barbs and sharp looks of the other guests at this fiasco. Safe from the cynical few who would take advantage of her vulnerability and naïveté. Including himself.
In their few hours together tonight, she’d managed to weaken his resolve in ways no other woman ever had. He found himself changing from the role of appreciative escort to champion to victim of his own fantasies. Well, if this evening didn’t come to a close soon, he’d have one last role to play, that of a dead duck. Because somehow, if he allowed her the opportunity, she’d trap him in her heart and never let him go. And as much as he’d love to indulge his longings, any relationship they began would end badly. They were too different, extreme ends of the same spectrum.
“You okay?” Gianna asked, derailing the train of his thoughts.
“Of course,” he said.
“I’m sorry to put you through all this. I can’t imagine you’re enjoying yourself.”
Despite his jumbled emotions, he forced an air of nonchalance. “Don’t worry about me. How are you doing?”
She smiled, and he had to fight the urge to toss her over his shoulder and carry her out of this place. Something about her brought out the Neanderthal in him.
“Better now,” she said. “Thanks to you. At least the hard part’s over.”
If only he could be so certain…
****
The coup de grace came in the ladies’ room when Gianna
sat before one of the gilt mirrors, touching up her makeup.
The door hissed open, and Adrienne entered to sit beside her. An uncomfortable silence filled the room. While making a great fuss about reapplying her mascara, Gianna stole a glance at Adrienne, currently involved in the same pretense.
“Gi,” Adrienne began hesitantly. “Can I tell you something? Just between us?”
She tucked the mascara into her gold beaded purse. “Sure.”
“When Rachel told me she’d invited you to the wedding, I thought it was the meanest thing I’d ever heard. But to see you happy with that gorgeous man, well, I pity Rachel now. Kyle is everything Frank isn’t. He’s witty, charming, and so devoted to you. Anyone can see you’ve moved up in the world. Poor Rachel! Looks like she turned out to be the loser after all.”
Before Gianna could form a reply, Adrienne’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened in a wide O.
Rachel stood in the doorway between the stalls and the powder room area, her face a mask of outrage. “Thanks a lot, Adrienne! I thought you were my friend.”
“Oh, get off your soapbox, Rachel.” Adrienne waved a hand. “You only invited Gianna so you could make her feel badly about losing Frank. Well, take a good look. Does she look like she’s suffering? I don’t think so. I think she looks more radiant now than I’ve ever seen her. And I’m glad. She deserves to be happy.”
With a stamp of her satin-shod foot and an exaggerated “Oh!” Rachel stormed out of the ladies’ room.
“I know we’ve never been close, Gi,” Adrienne said when the door closed. “But take some free advice from someone who’s been in your shoes. Hang on to Kyle. He’s perfect.”
She smiled. Yeah, he was perfect.
A thousand images flitted through her imagination. Kyle as she’d first met him, humble yet proud. The way he tossed a pizza, hands twirling beneath the stretchy dough. Those same hands caressing Crystal’s chubby cheek. His kisses, which left her breathless and boneless. Oh, he was definitely perfect. And God help her, she wanted to hang onto him. As long as possible.
