by Robena Grant
“Dia. Wait. You okay?” Carlo yelled. He stood beneath the hotel canopy, hands cupped around his mouth. He peeled off his tuxedo jacket.
Ah, hell. Who does he think he is, my Italian knight in shining armor?
She shoved a hand against her hip. “I’m fine. I’m going home.” Ashamed of her old car, she’d parked across the street in a strip mall instead of handing keys to a valet at the posh hotel.
“Wait for me!” Carlo waited in the median for a car to pass.
He dashed across the street, grabbed her elbow, held his jacket over her head and nestled her tight to his body. He smelled so good and clean, and that said something, because they’d danced the mambo—the upright mambo, of course, not the horizontal one—and about six other dances.
She stifled a laugh at her thoughts. It would be okay, better than okay. Nothing was worth getting upset about. Soon she’d be on her way to Italy. She took another deep inhale, storing a memory of something she couldn’t have.
“Put your arm around my waist,” he said. “Hang on tight.”
She did as he said, and then felt the warm pressure of his hand as it slid down her lower rib cage and nestled into the dip of her waist. It was dark and warm under Carlo’s jacket. They picked their way through the puddles shimmering in the moonlight while fat raindrops fell into them like spilled diamonds.
“Thanks, thanks for—” Her words were whipped away by the wind.
“No problem. Save your voice,” he yelled.
As soon as they got inside her car they huddled into their seats, the rain drumming on the rooftop. She started the engine, and the heater. He grinned. Water dripped off his hair. He was more gorgeous than ever. She bet she looked like a drowned rat.
“I’m…I’m so darn co-cold.” She laughed and hugged herself.
He pulled a white linen handkerchief from the inside pocket of his suit coat. She looked at him in amazement. He always carried a handkerchief.
“Dry your hair with this. It will help you warm up faster.”
She felt truly alive and safe for the first time since Jason had jilted her. Everything about this moment was as it should be, even if Carlo wasn’t the man for her.
“Thanks.” She took the pins out of her once-glamorous up-do.
She dropped the pins one at a time into the ashtray that nobody ever used, because nobody but Mama smoked anymore. Mama wouldn’t be caught dead in this old car.
“You want to talk about it?” Carlo asked, rubbing one hand over the dampness of his white shirt. He undid his bowtie, and the top buttons on his shirt. He never took his eyes off of her the whole time he did his semi-striptease. Dia swallowed hard.
Then he shook the water from his hair like a dog that had bounded out of high surf.
“Hey.” Dia whacked him on the upper arm. “Knock it off, I’m wet. Besides that, you’re getting the insides of the car windows wet. I won’t be able to see to drive.”
“We’re not going anywhere for a while,” he said, and chuckled. “But later you’ll have to drive me to my place because I hitched a ride from the church with Susan.”
He wanted her to take him home? What about Tony?
“Speak,” he said, and nudged her upper arm. “Why did you run from the reception?” He traced her bare arm with one finger. “Was it too many memories? It might help to talk about it.”
Dia peered through the windshield. Except for the occasional streetlight and the lights at the front of the hotel, there was nothing to look at—unless of course one had a thing for taillights. She hadn’t told anyone the truth. But she felt safe with Carlo. He wouldn’t judge her. She felt queasy at the thought of confiding in anyone. Of course, she could go to confession, but there was that whole religion issue that she had. She took a few breaths.
“I need to leave a message for Mama. So she won’t worry.” She hit Mama’s cell phone number, knowing she wouldn’t pick up. “I’m with Carlo, Mama. It was a lovely wedding. Sleep well. See you tomorrow.”
She looked over at Carlo. “I was stood up at the altar six months ago. Well, not the actual altar but three days—”
“Yeah, Tony told me. But that’s not what’s behind tonight’s upset, is it?”
She smiled wryly into the darkness. “You’re smart. My major six-month-long funk has had nothing to do with being jilted. Although, I’ve let everyone believe the opposite. I’ve been doing some soul searching. I didn’t know who I was back then, with Jason.”
“You got lost. It happens.” Carlo lifted her hand, held it gently, and pressed his lips to the knuckles. “Talk to me.”
Dia drew her hand back. Why he’d kissed it she wasn’t sure. But she knew she had to tell him about Jason. Not everything. She’d maybe hold back on the thought that she was not loveable, or capable of giving love. She pulled in a couple of breaths.
“When Jason took a hike, a weight lifted from my shoulders. That scared me. I would have married him. But obviously, I realized I didn’t love him, and that’s not right.” She looked into Carlo’s eyes, amazed that her confession hadn’t fazed him. “—you know, to go through with a wedding because you thought you should. I guess I got caught up in the idea of the wedding and stuff. Will I ever be able to trust my judgment again?”
“You will.”
“I feel so rotten saying this, but I think I wanted to marry him to escape.”
“From what?”
Dia blew out a puff of air. “He was wealthy. He came from a prominent family.” She waved a hand around. “You know…escape my roots, my family, and their expectations.”
“That’s not so bad. It happens a lot—”
“What? Women marrying up?”
He laughed. “Men do it too.”
“Thanks. You’re a good guy.” She smoothed the skirt of her dress. Rain still pelted the car windows, but she felt a bit warmer now. These rains were usually fast and furious. It would all be over in ten minutes. “I don’t even deserve this pity date. You should go back.”
“Pity date?” Carlo frowned, then he moved closer. A crooked smile lit his face. “Why would I want to go back without you?”
“Look, I know you can’t dance with Tony, with his mama there and all, but you can have a drink, and go home together, and—”
“Wait, wait, wait…what?” Carlo grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. His face was so close his breath fanned across her cheek. Her eyes dropped to his gorgeous mouth and that full lower lip.
He let go of her, and moved back a bit. “Me and Tony?”
Something in his voice caused her heart to lighten and beat faster. Had she gotten it wrong? Dia nodded. She couldn’t get one single word out.
“You think I’m gay?” He ran his fingers through his still-wet hair.
“You’re um…you’re not?” Dia asked softly, stumbling over her words. There was an ominous silence in the car. Oh hell, she’d made a stupid assumption. Had she ruined everything?
“Um…Carlo, I’m sorry, I assumed that was what this was all about…this wedding date.” Her breath caught in the back of her throat.
She opened her mouth again to explain her thoughts more fully. Their breaths mingled as he faced her, muttering all kinds of oaths. Fogged up windows surrounded them. What a pity they were fogged with confusion instead of passion.
He stared at her, eyes wide, his expression one of pure disbelief. Her heart pounded like crazy. She moistened her lips. Sometimes explanations are in order, and sometimes actions speak louder than words.
She shut them both up with a kiss.
Chapter Six
Carlo had no idea how long he’d been kissing Dia. It could have been seconds…maybe hours. His head buzzed. He’d wanted to show her just how un-gay he was.
Now he remembered her history, and his vow to not spook her. Dia moved, easing back from his latest assault on her mouth. He pulled her gently to his chest, nestling her head close while he caught his breath and took a moment to think things through. She, no doubt,
did the same. His breath still sounded harsh to his ears.
She squirmed in his arms, lifting her face to look at him. Her mouth was inches from his. He couldn’t tell if she was moving away, or closer. Unable to stop himself, despite good intentions, he pulled her tighter. “Ah, no, you don’t. No moving,” he said his voice husky. “You started this.”
She laughed. Her breath floated, soft against his mouth. He dropped kisses along her neck, nibbling at the flesh like he’d found one of her mama’s famous amaretto cookies. She moaned and moved closer.
Round two was off to a good start.
Savoring the taste of her skin, lost in the cloud of heat, perfume, and salt from having danced a hard dance, he knew he was falling hard for Dia Sophia. He stopped the journey of his hungry mouth before he lost complete control.
“Carlo,” she whispered against his cheek. “Don’t stop.”
She wound her arms around him, running her hands up and down his back. Then she pulled off his bowtie, slung it onto the backseat and started undoing the buttons on his shirt. Her hand stroked his bared chest. Deep in those dark recesses of his mind a voice began to form. It’s too soon. Don’t spook her. You’re moving too fast.
She’d held him at arm’s length for days, and he’d gotten the message that she didn’t want to be hurried. He knew it was too damn fast, but she tasted too damn good. She moaned softly, moving against him. Ah, hell. All thoughts of putting on the brakes flew out the window.
He traced her jaw with his tongue, coming back to the curve of her mouth, devouring it like a starving man. Their tongues met and teased, and he couldn’t get enough of knowing her. He slid his hands up her back, across the exposed skin from her strapless evening dress. Carlo dipped his head. About to sweep down over her cleavage he gulped, stopping himself in time. If his mouth touched those breasts he’d be a goner for sure. And this was Marco’s little sister in his arms.
He took in a huge breath, ran his hands gently over her shoulders as if smoothing the coat of an elderly lady. He pushed himself back into the seat. She followed, clinging to him.
“Don’t stop,” she said against his mouth. Then she caught his lower lip with her teeth and nibbled, driving him crazy.
His entire body went taut, his lower parts begging him to let go. He held her away from him and stared into her eyes. In the dim gold from the parking lot lights, he thought he saw her come out of her own dizzying trip. Her eyes clouded. Shock, maybe fear, registered. He felt the same way. They’d both been swept up in a rush of lust. His gaze had broken the spell, and she shifted back against her seat.
He knew if they went any further there’d be no going back. And if they went any further, would she run? He’d dated her initially for all the wrong reasons. He’d used her to get his mother to back off. How would he ever explain that? And how could he start something with Dia if he didn’t?
****
“Crazy, huh?” Dia smoothed the top of her dress, and gave her head a shake, yet she couldn’t make eye contact with Carlo. Not yet. She’d never felt such passion, and that final coating of ice around her heart had melted. But he was Italian, so how weird was that? And he had a mother who openly disliked her. He was everything she’d convinced herself that she did not want.
“Crazy delicious.” Carlo laughed low and deep.
“Yeah, but you know…wise to put on the brakes.”
“Yes.”
His voice sounded husky. She took in a couple of deep breaths and glanced at the car windows. Maybe they could have a fling? A harmless little something before she took off for Italy. The windshield had totally fogged. It looked golden under the overhead light and she was tempted to draw a heart and put their initials in it. What would he think of her then, crazy delicious…or crazy woman?
“So, ah…if you thought I was gay, and with Tony—”
“Why did I agree to go to the wedding with you?”
“Yes.”
Dia laughed. “Because then I wouldn’t have to fight off a groper…the usual safe stuff.”
“Oh.” He nodded, deep in thought for a few moments. “There’s something else I should explain. It’s about my mother.”
“You don’t have to explain anything.”
Carlo ran a hand through his hair. “I do.” He looked straight ahead. “I chose you because I knew it would piss off my mother, because you’re the opposite of what she wants as a date, girlfriend, future daughter-in-law, for me. I’m so sorry, Dia. There are no excuses for that. I chose you for all of the wrong reasons, and that’s just…well, it’s so, so wrong. I don’t know if you can ever forgive me.” When he stopped talking, he wouldn’t even look at her.
Dia burst out laughing and punched him on the upper arm. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? You chose me because I’m from the wrong side of the tracks?”
“Well, not that exactly.”
“What then…because I’m not blonde and svelte like a runway model…because I’m poor?”
“It’s…” Carlo rubbed at his wet hair with the knuckles of one hand. “It’s that my mother has a thing about people from Little Italy.”
Dia laughed again. “Is that all? It’s okay, because I do too. I’ve been trying to escape since I turned seventeen. Listen, it’s getting late. I guess…I ah, should drive you home.”
For the first time in her adult life she wasn’t giving in to a moment of passion. After being set free from Jason, she never wanted to be involved with the kind of toxicity that came from his family. She wondered about Mrs. Antonelli, and what made her the way she was.
“So I’m forgiven?” Carlo met her gaze.
She saw the relief and astonishment in his eyes. “Absolutely. So, ready to go?”
“Do you mind? It’s a bit out of your way.”
“Not really. I don’t mind at all.”
Dia turned on the engine and the defogger. The rain had eased up; no lightning arced through the sky. Within seconds, the inside of her windshield had cleared, and she ran the wipers to clear the water from the outside. She took one last look at the beautiful hotel across the street before reversing out of the parking space.
“Freeway, or the long way?” Dia came to a stop before easing onto the main street. She looked up and down the dark road. No cars were coming or going.
Carlo cleared his throat. “We’ve both had a bit to drink—”
“Actually, I’ve been on diet soda for most of the night. I only had one glass of champagne. I’m sure I danced off those effects. And I had coffee.” She would have had cannoli too, if she’d realized that Tony and Carlo were not “kissing” kissing.
“Oh, I thought—”
“Nah. Other than a few sips of champagne to toast the bride and groom, and the parents of both, I stuck to soda in a wine glass.” She’d wanted to stay alert to her surroundings, to enjoy being with him. She remembered the look he’d given her after they’d made-out like teenagers. His face had been stricken. If he wanted the fastest way out of this she could deliver.
“It’s your call.”
“Let’s take the long way,” Carlo said. “We can talk.”
Okay then. She drove through the streets of downtown where most of the office buildings were minimally lit. Only an occasional car sped past them. After a few miles of silence, she looked over at Carlo who seemed deep in thought for someone who’d wanted to talk.
“So,” she said, turning on the blinker to make a left turn. “Not gay.” Then she laughed. “Definitely not gay.”
Carlo chuckled. He turned toward her. “I was pissed at first, when you said that. Not that I haven’t got gay friends, and—”
“Yeah. Like Tony.”
“He’s a good guy. He was honest with his wife and released her when he realized,” Carlo said, gently. “He said he never cheated on her, and he settled a good amount on her too.”
Dia raised her eyebrows at that. Maybe Tony hadn’t understood or had denied his sexual orientation earlier on. But then again some peopl
e could be in denial, she supposed. He’d been under his mother’s influence, which meant taking the straight road, regardless. Poor Tony. He must have been so confused for so long.
“I like him a lot more now.” She shot Carlo a quick glance. “I have to confess, I didn’t before this past week.”
“We’re not tight friends. I do the books for the Cupertinos, and I’ve helped Tony with his investments. We don’t socialize a lot, because we move in different circles.”
Dia nodded. “Ah, and that spontaneous outburst, you know, the kiss on the forehead.”
“You saw that, huh? Yeah, he’s an affectionate guy.” Carlo laughed. “He was thrilled with the results of a recent stock purchase I made for him.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. He’s closer to being able to afford his own place again.”
A twinge of shame shot through her. She’d been so judgmental. She peered at the barely visible street signs. “I know we’re getting close to where you live.”
“Keep going straight. Two more lights, then you’ll hang a left at the first street.”
They remained quiet for the rest of the drive. When she pulled in front of his swank building, her nerve endings were all jumpy. She was so out of practice. What would they do now? Would he expect a kiss? Maybe I’ll give him a peck on the cheek, yeah, that should do it. She switched off the engine, and faced him.
He leaned in and captured her lips with his. He deepened the kiss, his tongue touching hers. “Thank you for being so understanding about my mother, and everything,” he murmured against her mouth.
The fast spin to out of control hit her. Her entire body pulsed with need. And this reaction was from only one kiss? She took a shuddery breath. They moved apart, his gaze fixed on her. His eyes were like liquid chocolate. Hell, she got turned on when he looked at her. How would they be at making love?
“I’d invite you upstairs, but we know where that would lead.” He laughed. “Not that it wouldn’t be great. But I think it’s better to take things slow.”
