Romano's Revenge

by Sandra Marton

  And even if he did figure it out, Kevin, who worked the desk, would never tell. Not after the way she imagined Joe had treated him, to get to her. So, with luck, she had maybe a fifteen minute head start. More than enough, she thought as she reached the corner.

  The fog wasn't as dense here. She stepped off the curb, peered in both directions. Hallelujah! The standard joke was that taxis never turned up when you most needed them, but there was a cab coming towards her right now.

  Lucy jumped forward and waved her hand wildly. A horn blared, somebody yelled something uncomplimentary, but the taxi swerved towards her and stopped.

  The cabbie--a woman-shot her an annoyed look as she opened the door and got inside.

  "You feeling suicidal, or what?"

  "Or what," Lucy said. She opened her purse and dug inside. Miss Robinson had insisted on reimbursing her for the things she'd bought, and on paying her for her time, before the party started. Thank goodness for small favors.

  "A bonus if you get me to Pacific Heights ASAP," she said, holding up some bills.

  The lady cabbie looked in the mirror. "The fog is going to be a problem."

  "So is the man I'm trying to get away from."

  That brought a smile to the driver's face. "They're all problems," she said. "Tell you what. I'll do the best I can. Okay?"

  Lucy sat back. "That's all anybody can ever ask."

  True enough. Doing your best was the most a person could hope for.

  Her mouth trembled.

  The trouble was that Joe Romano's best wasn't sufficient. It was bad enough that he thought she was the sort of woman who'd strip at private parties. It was worse that he didn't believe her denials, or trust her. That he really thought she could lie in his arms at night, live with him, share his life ...

  Who was she kidding?

  She didn't share his life. His bed, definitely. His day-to-day existence, sure. But his life? Mistresses didn't share men's lives. And that was all she was.

  Yes, Joe had told her he loved her. It didn't mean anything. He'd been trying to squirm out of what he'd said when he'd come bursting into the cafe. The odds were good he'd have told her just about anything to make himself look less foolish.

  Love? Love was just a word to him. But it was more than that to her. She loved him. Really loved him. And there wasn't a way in the world they could reconcile their differences.

  Tears rose in Lucy's eyes. She'd been such a fool. What had become of her common sense? Her morals? Her sense of self?

  The cab jerked to a stop. "We're here," the cabbie said.

  Why had she stayed in Joe's house? Slept in his bed? She wasn't stupid.

  "Lady? Isn't this what you wanted?"

  Lucy's head came up. "No," she said shakily, "no, it's not. What I wanted was for him to love me. That was why I stayed, because I hoped-oh, I really hoped..."

  She blinked, met the cabbie's sympathetic look in the mirror. "Pacific Heights," the cabbie said with surprising gentleness. "This is the address you gave me, right?"

  Lucy looked out the window. "Yes," she said, and opened the door of the taxi.

  "Lady?"

  Lucy looked around.

  The cabbie smiled. "You just remember, okay? No guy is worth the sleepless nights or the agony."

  "Absolutely," Lucy answered, and told her foolish heart not to argue with such indisputable logic.

  She glanced at her watch as she unlocked the front door. With luck, Joe was still driving up and down the streets near the cafe. Just in case, though, she bolted all the doors.

  Five minutes, she thought as she ran up the stairs, that was all she needed to pack.

  It took less than that.

  A few seconds to drag her suitcase from the closet and dump it on the bed. Another few to empty the drawers, toss their contents on the carpet. Ditto for the closet; just strip things off the hangers, let them fall. Now it was easy enough to gather everything up, carry it to the bed and hurl it into the suitcase. One armload. Two. And she was-

  "Going somewhere, Blondie?"

  Lucy cried out, spun around-and saw a narrow-eyed, angry-as-hell Joseph Romano standing in the doorway.

  "The doors were locked," she said. "Bolted. Chained. How..."

  Joe's mouth curled in a tight smile. "I busted a window."

  Her eyes rounded. "You broke a window?"

  "That's what I said."

  Joe was torn between crossing the room, grabbing Lucy and shaking her until her teeth rattled. Or kissing her until her knees buckled. Or doing both. The last half hour had been hell. He'd envisioned her trapped on a bus that had wrecked in the fog. On a cable car that was out of control, heading full-tilt for the Bay.

  Even worse, he'd imagined her standing on the San Francisco side of the Golden Gate Bridge, her mouth set the way it was now, her thumb pointed straight up in the air when a maniac with knives for hands pulled over and asked her if she wanted a lift.

  But she was safe, inside his very own house, which was just where he wanted her. He told himself that the thing to do was calm down, act cool, if only for a little while. So he leaned against the doorjamb and folded his arms over his chest.

  "What's the problem, Lucinda? Don't guys bust windows in the world you come from?"

  "Not unless they're deranged."

  "Deranged is a good word. It might just describe the state I'm in, having my woman run out on me that way."

  Lucy drew herself up. "I am not your woman, Romano."

  "I didn't know where you'd gone."

  "That was the general idea."

  "Or what had happened to you."

  "You want a play-by-play? I took a taxi. I climbed the stairs. I packed."

  "You left out the part where you locked all the doors."

  "You could have rung the bell."

  "Oh, sure. And you'd have come straight to the door and let me in." A cold smile tilted at the corner of Joe's mouth. "You expect me to believe that?"

  Lucy looked at him. He was keeping himself in tight control but he couldn't fool her. He was angry. Furious. Well, why wouldn't he be? She was running out on him, he'd just said so. And she bet her life that no woman had ever walked out on Joe Romano before... Or ever wanted to.

  She didn't want to, either. What she wanted, more than anything, was to go into his arms, tell him that she loved him, always would love him.

  She swung away, grabbed the suitcase, and heard Joe's footsteps coming up, fast, behind her.

  "Put that down, Blondie."

  Lucy shook her head. "Just get out of my way, Joe. There's no point in making a scene. It won't change anything."

  His hands settled on her shoulders. "Put it down, turn around and look at me."

  "No."

  "Lucinda."

  Her name sounded like music on his lips. She closed her eyes and told herself she was doing the right thing. Joe wanted a toy. He was no different than her father. And she was no different than her father's mistress.

  How stupid she'd been, telling herself she was more than a plaything to Joe, just because she wouldn't accept his money.

  "Joe." She took a deep breath. "Joe, it's better this way."

  "For who?" he said gruffly, and turned her towards him. His eyes, dark with some emotion she was afraid to believe, locked on hers. "Not for me."

  "I'm not coming back to you," she said, and tried to keep her voice from quavering. "I was wrong to have stayed with you."

  "I want you, Lucy." His voice was soft, almost tender. "I want you to stay with me."

  "That's what you think now, Joe. But in a week. A month. A year-"

  "Dammit," he said without any anger at all, "will you stop telling me what I think?"

  "Joe." Lucy swept the tip of her tongue over her lips. "I'm sorry. I told you I wouldn't be your-your kept woman, but I was. I am. I was just fooling myself, saying I wasn't. And…and I can't be. I can't, because-because-"

  "Because you're in love with me," he said.

  What was the se
nse in denying it? "If I am," Lucy said, lifting her chin, "it's my problem."

  "Dammit, Lucinda!" Joe shook her, just a little. "It's not anybody's problem, because I love you, too."

  "You said that. But I understand. I-"

  Joe swept her into his anus and kissed her until she was clinging to him.

  "You are an impossible woman," he said when he finally drew back. "You don't understand, any more than you know what I'm thinking. Sweetheart." His voice gentled. "I love you, Lucinda Barry. I adore you. I'm not going to live my life without you."

  Lucy's eyes locked on his. She wanted to believe him, oh, she wanted to...

  "Sweetheart." Joe took a breath. "Will you marry me?" Her mouth opened, then closed. He laughed and leaned his forehead against hers.

  "I never thought I'd see it happen. My Lucinda, speechless. "

  "Oh, Joe." Tears glittered in Lucy's eyes. "I love you so much..."

  He put his hand under her chin, gently raised her face to his. "Then say you'll be my wife. My love, my only love, for the rest of time."

  "Yes," Lucy whispered. She laughed, even as the tears spilled down her face. "I will, my darling Joe. I will, I will."

  Joe drew her close and kissed her. "You never lied to me. In my heart, I knew that, all along."

  She sighed and laid her head against his chest. "Never."

  "I even knew you'd never been with another man," he said gruffly. "I just wouldn't admit it, not even to myself." he stroked his hand over her hair and she closed her eyes with pleasure. "The thing was, you scared me out of my skin, honey."

  Lucy drew back. "I scared you?" she said in disbelief.

  "Uh-huh." Joe kissed her again. Her lips clung to his, and her hands stole up his chest. "It's not every day a guy falls head over heels in love." He took her hands in his, pressed kisses into the palms. "I want you to know something, honey. Even if those things had been true, even if I hadn't been the first..." He took a deep breath. "I'd love you, anyway, Lucinda. Because you're a part of me."

  Lucy leaned back in Joe's embrace, smiled, and looped her arms around his neck.

  "I'll probably never be much of a cook."

  Joe grinned. "We'll live on coconut-chocolate pom-poms, and belni filled with whipped cream."

  "Mmm. The basic food groups. Sounds fine to me."

  His smile tilted. "How do you feel about short engagements?"

  Lucy laughed softly. "I think they're the very best kind."

  Joe swung her into his arms and kissed her. Still kissing her, he carried her up the stairs.

  It was a hot July afternoon, but a cooling breeze fanned the patio behind Joe Romano's Pacific Heights home throughout the wedding ceremony and the reception.

  Lucy stood in the center of Joe's bedroom, and looked at herself in the mirror. "Mrs. Joseph Romano," she whispered, and smiled.

  Her gaze went to the terrace windows, and her smile broadened. The guests were all gone now. Lucy's mother and stepfather, Miss Robinson, Matthew and Susannah... Almost all gone.

  Nonna Romano was still on the patio, in earnest conversation with Joe, who had his arm around her.

  Lucy looked in the mirror again. She was wearing Nonna's wedding gown. Nonna had smiled when they'd told her they were getting married-after Joe spent half an hour explaining that Lucy didn't entertain men at parties.

  "But is your Lucinda truly not Italian?" Nonna had finally asked, and Joe had sighed and said that truly, she was not.

  "And she cannot cook?"

  "No," Joe had replied, putting his arm around Lucy. "But she loves me, and I love her, and that's all that matters."

  Nonna had smiled. "In that case, Joseph, go up to the attic and find the big white box that holds my wedding gown."

  "Uh, it's very sweet of you, darling," Joe had started to say, "but-"

  "It's wonderful," Lucy had said. "And I'd be honored to wear it, Mrs. Romano."

  "Call me Nonna," Nonna had replied, and then she'd shot Joe a cool look. "What's the matter, Joseph? You think my wedding dress will be too big for your bride? I was not always this size."

  "No," Joe had said quickly, "no, of course not..."

  Lucy smiled at her reflection and ran her hand down the gently flared skirt of the gown. Nonna must have been just about her size when she married Joe's grandfather. But she couldn't possibly have been this happy, or this deeply in love. No one could have been. No one ever would be. What she and Joe shared, what they felt for each other...

  There was a soft rap at the door. Lucy turned around. "Come in."

  The door opened and her husband-her handsome, wonderful husband-stepped into the room.

  "Hi," he said softly.

  Lucy smiled. "Hi, yourself."

  Joe closed the door behind him. "I'm sorry it took so long, but Nonna-"

  "No, that's fine. I'm sure it's not easy for Nonna to think of sharing her favorite grandson with-" Lucy's brows lifted. "What's funny?"

  "I wasn't comforting the old witch," he said, "I was hearing her confession."

  "Her what?"

  He grinned as he undid his tie and tossed it aside. "We've been had, Blondie."

  Lucy put her hands on her hips. "I told you not to call me that anymore," she said, trying for, and failing, to sound insulted. Actually, she loved it when Joe called her "Blondie." It reminded her of that first kiss, that first wicked kiss. "What confession?"

  "It was all a setup." Joe shrugged off the jacket to his tux, tossed it on a chair and began undoing the studs in his pleated white shirt. "The old schemer planned everything. Seems she'd figured out that the candidates she'd been lining up for the position of Mrs. Joseph Romano weren't ever going to pass scrutiny." The studs gone, he peeled off his shirt and tossed it after the jacket. "She says she interviewed a dozen women before selecting you."

  Lucy forced her attention away from her husband's gorgeous, tanned, muscled chest. "A dozen women," she said, and cleared her throat.

  "Which probably means closer to two dozen." Joe undid his belt, opened the button at the top of his fly. "She'd drawn up this profile. Well, of course, she didn't call it that."

  "Of course," Lucy echoed as he toed off his shoes and socks. She could be cool about this, if he was, even though they hadn't made love in the month since he'd asked her to marry him. But they'd slept together each night, she nestled in his arms, aware of his heat, of his hard body.

  Joe's smile was slow and sexy as he came towards her. "She decided I needed a woman who was beautiful." Lucy's heart kicked as he took off her bridal veil. "And bright."

  He turned her so that her back was to him. One by one, she felt the brush of his fingers at the long line of tiny, satin covered buttons that went from her gown's neckline to its waist.

  "A woman who could stand up to me and not back down," he said, his voice just a little hoarse. He pressed his open mouth to her bare shoulder as the gown slipped down, and she caught her breath. "And who was incredibly sexy."

  Lucy spun around in his arms. "Your nonna never told you that!"

  Joe grinned. "No." His smile tilted. "But you are, you know, Mrs. Romano."

  "Are what?" she said softly, and wound her arms around his neck.

  "Incredibly, deliciously, magnificently sexy."

  Lucy laughed as her husband lifted her in his arms. "You're just trying to get into my good graces," she said.

  "You want me to say I'll let you feast on that special dessert, made of angel food cake, whipped cream and melted chocolate."

  Joe kissed her until she was breathless. "Forget the cake," he whispered, and carried his bride to their bed.

 

 

 
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