Summer Fire
Page 77
She gave him a pan to carry and held another. “I already took the salad. Grab the wine and come this way. To the right.”
“So where is your grandmother’s room?” It was always helpful to situate oneself with respect to possible attack—or in this case interruption.
Isabella arched a knowing eyebrow. “See that door at the far end of the living room. It leads to her suite, bedroom, bathroom, closets. Mine is here. We’ll go through it to reach the west balcony.”
Interesting and reassuring. There was a huge living room and dining room area between the two bedrooms. On the way to the balcony, he surveyed her bedroom and jerked his chin at the Italian porcelain and glass bibelots adorning her credenza. “Beautiful pieces.”
“They were gifts from my parents and relatives. Each holds a sentimental value for me.”
They crossed into a long balcony overlooking the inland part of Fort Lauderdale. He caught his breath at the unique scenery of houses and parks crisscrossed by the Intercoastals and smaller canals, and on the left side a backdrop of high rises. The sun had turned into a fiery ball, slowly dropping at the horizon and coloring the sky in various shades of red, pink, and purple.
“Thank you for sharing this magnificent view with me.”
Isabella had already set the round table with china, silver, glasses, and napkins, artistically arranged on a printed tablecloth. She’d even lit a large candle embedded in a brass candleholder.
“What a beautiful table.” He was touched by her effort to prepare a romantic dinner. They set the pans of lasagna and chicken next to the bowl of salad. While she served the food, he opened the bottle and poured the wine.
“Wait, we’ll toast at the moment the sun sets. And as soon as it vanishes, we should make a wish. It’s said to come true if we make the wish at the exact minute the sun disappears.”
A faint smile stretched his lips. He raised his glass and waited. “Tell me when it’s the right moment.”
“We can toast.” The sun had now morphed to a half ball. She clanked her glass against his.
“To you, Isabella. May all your wishes come true.”
“Yes, I hope they do. Make a wish quickly. The sun is disappearing.” She closed her eyes.
He forgot about the setting sun and focused on her face. Her eyes squeezed shut and her lips puckered into a delicious pout. She must badly need her wish to come true.
Talk about wishes. His own wish was to kiss her.
He bent toward her. Covering her lips with his mouth, he gave her a searing kiss. She laced her fingers around his neck and opened her mouth to his tongue and his passion.
Out of breath, they finally eased apart.
“So what was your wish about?” he asked.
“I’m not telling,” she answered with such a satisfied smirk he wondered if she’d wished he’d kiss her. Oh well, at least their thoughts seemed to be attuned. “Wait. I need a picture with you.”
Good idea. Staring at her picture before sleeping would guarantee him sweet dreams and a few forbidden fantasies probably. He suppressed a wicked grin. “Sure.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She snuggled against him and snapped a selfie.
“Look.” She showed him the picture.
“Lovely. Send it to me right away.”
She did and he made sure he received his picture.
“Now we can eat. Bon appétit.” Playing the dutiful hostess, she served him generous portion of lasagna and chicken.
He started eating and soon licked his lips. “I haven’t savored such delicious lasagna in ages. And the view from your twenty-first floor beats the best restaurant in town.”
By the time he finished his second portion, the night had shrouded the balcony and transformed their view into a dark carpet spotted with multicolored lights. He helped her clear the table and set the dirty plates, silver and glasses into the dishwasher.
“I have a chocolate cake for dessert. If you open the bar, you’ll find many after-dinner liquors. Dante refurbishes the stock regularly. I’ll have an Irish Baileys.”
“Good. I’ll have the same.”
“We’ll move to the ocean front balcony.” She cut the cake and placed the portions on two plates while he prepared the drinks.
On the east side, no candle or city lights broke the blackness of the night. Even the moon had hidden behind a cloud.
They placed the plates and drinks on the little outdoor table and settled on the swinging settee.
He raised his glass. “To you, Isabella. Can we make your wish come true again?”
“My wish?”
“Didn’t you wish for me to kiss you?”
She chuckled. “Not exactly, but if you say so.” She swallowed a gulp of her Baileys and set her glass on the table, staring at him. He followed suit.
Their gazes locked. Silence danced between them, more eloquent than words.
He cupped her face and brushed her lips softly, then drew her on to his lap. “Isabella, I don’t know what you’re doing to me. I could spend hours kissing you.”
“Please do,” she said with such a proper lady-like voice granting permission, he couldn’t help laughing and pressing her against him.
Her head nestled in the crook of his neck, with her lips nuzzling the skin of his throat. Her sensual yet innocent moves filled his heart with possessive tenderness. He gently massaged her back while musing that he’d beat to a pulp any Sicilian who came close to Isabella.
Anyway there was nothing to fear now with Mario under their detective’s supervision and Marco Raveno several thousand miles away.
“Jonathan, did you fall asleep?”
“No sweetheart. I’m more awake than ever.”
Asleep? With her on his lap?
To prove his point he lowered his head and captured her mouth, teasing, tasting, caressing, until she moaned. Her arms wrapped around his nape and she responded with more passion than any woman he’d ever dated.
Sweet, spontaneous, and so candid, she could easily wrap him around her little finger. The problem was he didn’t seem to mind. Yet he’d promised himself years ago never to trust a woman with his heart.
Chapter Nine
The alarm woke Isabella from a deep slumber. Hardly able to open her eyes, she squinted at the digital clock. Five a.m. Time to get up and get ready for her long trip. Although her pillow beckoned and images of her delicious balcony interlude played in her memory, she forced herself to sit on the bed and collect her bearings.
No wonder she was tired. Jonathan had stayed until past midnight and she hadn’t had the energy or desire to ask him to leave, especially when she knew she wouldn’t see him for at least a week. He’d given her more kisses than she’d received in her entire life.
In and out of the shower in five minutes, she dried herself and rapidly dressed in a black pantsuit and white long-sleeve T-shirt. Without taking the time to dry her hair, she pulled it back into a ponytail and shoved her makeup kit into the beach bag where she’d packed a few necessities and minimum clothes.
Just as she sprayed her favorite perfume on her neck, a knock on the door startled her. She spun and froze at the sight of her grandmother all dressed and combed and scowling at her.
“Nonna, what are you doing here at this time?”
“I should ask you the same, but I already guessed what you’re up to.” Nonna crossed her arms over her chest. “I haven’t slept all night.”
“Because Jonathan was here?”
“No because it dawned on me that my granddaughter was trying to trick me. When I went to the kitchen to prepare a cup of coffee, I saw the light under your door and heard the shower. For a girl who likes to sleep late in the morning, you were up mighty early today. You were going to leave without taking me, right?”
Ridden with guilt, Isabella sighed. “The trip is too long for you. You’ll get tired.”
“We’ll go in business class as I’ve always traveled. I’m packed and dressed, and ready to go. When I c
ouldn’t sleep I spent my time packing. Just in case.”
No one could ever trick her grandmother. “Oh Nonna, I hate to do this to you.”
“Listen, bambina. We have a mission to accomplish. Last night, I prayed God and my beloved husband to help me do the right thing, and I came to the conclusion that far from damaging your Nonno’s good name, getting Lorenzo out of jail will allow your grandfather to rest in peace. It’s my duty, not yours, to repair the damage done to young Lorenzo. The chief of police and his wife have been my students in Sunday school. He’ll listen to me.”
Isabella peered at her Nonna’s determined expression. “To be honest, I’d love to have you with me in Palermo.”
“At what time is your flight?”
“The one to New York leaves at seven-thirty a.m. The overseas flight to Rome is not until five p.m. I wanted to give myself plenty of time.”
“No, my girl.” Nonna snorted and shook her finger under Isabella’s nose. “The truth is you wanted to leave before I woke up.”
Isabella lowered her eyes and chuckled.
“Why going through New York and not Miami?” Nonna asked.
“The cross-Atlantic is two-hour shorter from New York to Rome. I hate sitting on a plane for so long.”
“It makes sense. Where is your suitcase?”
“I’m taking the beach bag.”
“You’d better add more clothes. If I have to cope with the long flight and connections, I may as well stay two weeks in Palermo, finish some business, and visit with my friends.” Nonna opened the closet and yanked a few outfits from their hangers. “Get me a carry-on. While I pack some extra clothes for you, call the airline and reserve a ticket for me.”
Not daring to upset the old lady, Isabella silently sat at her laptop and made the reservations.
“Are you staying at Emma’s house?”
“Yes.”
“Good, although I don’t know if that would keep you safe from Marco.”
“This will keep me safe from Marco.” Isabella raised her left hand to show the five carat solitaire diamond on her finger.
Nonna’s eyes rounded. “Your Mamma’s wedding ring? Are you completely nuts? A ring without a man has no meaning.”
“I have a man all right. Except he won’t know about it. I’ll tell Emma I eloped with Jonathan. She already knows I’m seeing someone. Marco wouldn’t dally with a married woman.”
Nonna kept shaking her head. “Santa Maria, protect this crazy girl.”
“Okay, Nonna, you’ll have plenty of time to pray on the plane.” Isabella called a taxi, collected their luggage, her laptop case and her beach bag. “Ready?”
“I have my passport, credit cards, and five-hundred Euros in here,” Nonna patted her purse, wrapped a shawl around her shoulders, and grabbed her cane.
“And I’ve checked that all the lights are off.” They quietly left and locked the apartment. During the elevator ride, Nonna asked, “When are you planning to tell your brother that we’re traveling to Palermo?”
Isabella grimaced. “I’d rather not talk to Dante. I’ll text him and Jonathan just before the plane takes off. This way they’ll have plenty of time to cool off.” She didn’t care much about her brother’s reaction once she was out of reach, but Jonathan was another matter.
After all the kisses they’d exchanged last night, would he dare be upset at her for neglecting to inform him about her trip?
Chapter Ten
“I’ll be damned.” The words followed by an expletive left Jonathan’s mouth before he remembered he was sitting in a meeting with his boss and two clients.
The conniving little witch. To think he’d been convinced she was the sweetest, most innocent young woman he’d ever dated. To think she’d melted in his arms and kissed him for hours last night—only ten hours ago.
“Did you receive a message from the court?” Evidently, Dante hadn’t read his sister’s email or he’d have hit the roof.
“A very important one. Can we take a five-minute break outside?” He grabbed Dante’s arm and jerked him out of his chair. “Excuse us, gentlemen.”
“What are you doing?” Furious, Dante shook his arm free.
The two clients sent him worried glances. “I hope it’s not too bad for our case,” one of them said.
“No, not that bad. Come on, Cantari.” Jonathan pushed him to the door.
“What’s going on with you?” Dante asked when they stepped out.
“Check you messages. There must be one from your sister.”
“How would you know? Is that why you pulled me out of an important meeting?” he grumbled while opening his phone. “Damn it, she’s lost her mind. Dragging my grandmother back to the mafia’s territory when I did my best to bring them here. Being attacked hasn’t been enough for her.” His face turning red, Dante paced the corridor, paused and slammed the wall. “I have to go after them, get them back safely. Hell, I can’t leave my wife in her condition.” He cursed a few more times. “I’ll twist her neck for sure. I’ll lock her in her room for a week. No, for a month.”
Jonathan twitched his mouth. “Isabella is not a kid you can punish.”
“She was easier to handle when she was a child. Actually she’s always been strong-headed under her cute smiles and sweet voice.”
That was now obvious to Jonathan. Suddenly, he froze. “Where does Marco Raveno live?”
“In Palermo, we were neighbors.”
Jonathan’s fists clenched. “If he dares touch a hair on her head…” He punched the air hoping he could hit his new rival.
“Before harming her, you can be sure Marco would try his best to seduce her. He’s a good looking one according to silly women.”
Dante’s statement struck Jonathan right in the gut.
“I can’t…huh, I mean…huh, you can’t leave her there by herself.”
“I said I can’t leave now. Why don’t you go after them and bring them back?”
“Bring them back? Easy to say.” Jonathan scratched the back of his neck.
How had he been foolish enough to fall for Isabella?
No, he wasn’t in love with her. He just wanted to shake her, protect her, keep her in his arms. And kiss her till she cried mercy. Which she wouldn’t of course. She’d kiss him back and he’d beg her to stop or continue forever. “Damn it.”
“Don’t waste your time cursing. Leave right away and make sure they’re safe.”
Jonathan made a beeline to his office. With nervous fingers, he browsed Travelocity and confirmed that there were no direct flights from New York to Palermo. The shortest route was to fly to Rome and change planes to Palermo, which meant Isabella and her grandmother would be waiting in New York for a few hours.
Since it was already eleven o’clock, he wouldn’t be able to meet them in New York. Tough, he’d catch up with them in Rome or Sicily. He asked the receptionist to book him a non-stop flight from Miami to Rome while he drove home to his little apartment to pack.
Weighing every word, he slowly composed a text message to Isabella. He read it and changed it. Refusing to tell her about his plans, he edited some more, his tone changing from frustration and resentment to concern and alarm. Finally he sent his latest version.
Can’t believe u left. Why not tell me last night? So worried about u. When are u arriving in Sicily? Who is receiving u? Pl. reassure me. Jonathan
He packed, ate a quick lunch, and drove to the airport. As he parked his car in the long-term parking he heard the blip of his phone.
Sorry Jonathan. Honestly I couldn’t say a word. Afraid Dante would stop me. Had to go for my friend Emma’s sake. Arriving Rome 8 a.m. local time, then Palermo 10 am. Emma waiting for us. Don’t worry. I’ll text from there to reassure u. Thanks for understanding. xoxo. Isabella
Good, he’d land in Rome before them and would wait at the Palermo Airport. A smile hovered on his lips as he imagined her surprise. Maybe he’d have a chance to meet her friend Emma before Isabella arrived.
&
nbsp; Chapter Eleven
“You see it’s been an easy trip. Very comfortable,” Nonna said after returning from the plane restroom all refreshed. “Delta really pampered us in their VIP lounge while transiting in New York. Wine, luncheon, your free Wi-Fi, and a lounge chair for me to nap. What more could we ask for. And then I managed to sleep for several hours during the transatlantic flight.”
Barely able to keep her eyes open, Isabella grumbled, “Good. Glad you slept.”
As for her, she hadn’t been able to doze for more than fifteen minutes at a time. Trapped in various nightmares, she’d snapped awake in cold sweat muttering incoherent cries for help. Her scary dreams involved Marco and Jonathan rolling on the ground, trying to strangle each other. The worst one was when Marco gagged her and carried her on his boat to a deserted island, and Jonathan couldn’t find her. Please God, don’t let it happen.
After they landed in Rome, Nonna found a wheelchair waiting for her at the door of the plane. They rushed through passport control and customs.
Isabella sighed with relief as they reached the gate and waited to board the small plane that would take them to Sicily. In spite of the fuzziness clouding her mind she remembered to text Jonathan.
Hi, arrived safely in Rome. Waiting for connection to Palermo. Thinking of you. Will text later, xoxo. Isabella.
She called Emma. “Hi Emma, we are in Rome.”
“Hi Isabella, I can’t wait to see you. You said we? Is your boyfriend with you?” Her tone rose in excitement.
Suddenly wide awake, Isabella corrected her. “Nonna came with me. She wouldn’t let me go by myself.”
“Maybe it’s better. She knows more people than you do and they all respect her. Now tell me about that new boyfriend.”
“My boyfriend, huh, I…I…” White lies didn’t come easy when she was so tired. “You won’t believe what we did, hmm…”
“Don’t tell me you got married?”
Isabella giggled nervously. Let Emma imagine the story.