This Time for Keeps (Doctors of Rittenhouse Square Book 3)

by Jill Blake

  In the end, she said nothing. She simply exchanged her long-sleeve shirt for the tank top, with a windbreaker tied around her waist in case the temperature dropped. Luca’s smile and the approval in his eyes felt like a balm for her soul.

  He hefted their purchases in one hand and wrapped the other around her waist. “Let’s take this home before it spoils. You can tell me all about your week over lunch. And then we can have a siesta.”

  She recalled the siestas they’d shared in Italy: entire afternoons of slow lovemaking beneath an overhead fan that stirred the warm Mediterranean air around them.

  A siesta sounded like a brilliant idea.

  ###

  That evening, after his second shower of the day—this time with Bella—Luca made a list. All the staples that a well-stocked kitchen should have, plus a little extra. If good food was synonymous with love, he was going to make sure that Bella ate very, very well.

  At the store, they were halfway through the list when it occurred to him that they hadn’t discussed plans for Sunday. For once, he didn’t have a business trip scheduled, as all of the meetings for this final week leading up to the IPO were slated to take place locally. Which meant he was free to spend the rest of the weekend with Bella.

  He didn’t know Philadelphia well, but it was a reasonably sized city, and no doubt had any number of attractions they could enjoy together. A matinee show or movie, a picnic in a nearby park. Perhaps he could even entice her to drive back to his place in New Jersey. It was only an hour away. He could show her what he’d done with the house so far, and describe the plans he had for future renovations.

  He’d bought the property a year after his divorce was finalized. At the time, he’d wanted nothing more than a fresh start, someplace that had no memories of Cristina. What he got was a rambling old house badly in need of repair, set on two acres just outside Princeton. It had a solid foundation, and according to the engineer who’d inspected it at the time of purchase, the building was structurally sound. The previous owners had replaced the plumbing and wiring, but everything else required work. He’d dealt with the roof, siding, gutters, ventilation, and windows before moving in, but left the interior to be renovated one room at a time. Major jobs like the floors, kitchen, and master bath he’d hired out to a local contractor. But a lot of the work he’d done himself, fitting it in when he found the time. There was something therapeutic in doing manual labor, and over the last three years he’d managed to work out a lot of stress while opening up and patching walls, ripping out and replacing worn-down stair treads, building and finishing cabinets and bookcases.

  It was a long-term project, and other than the contractor, Luca hadn’t sought out anyone else’s feedback. But gazing at Isabelle as she leaned into a refrigerated case at the grocery store, he realized that he wouldn’t mind having her input.

  She turned around and dropped several boxes into their shopping cart. He frowned at the labels: Lean Cuisine, Smart Ones, Healthy Choice. The re-education process might take longer than he’d thought. He scooped up the boxes and placed them back in the glass case.

  “Hey, what are you doing?”

  “You don’t need to eat that junk anymore,” he said. “I’m teaching you to cook.”

  “I know it’s not haute cuisine, but it’s convenient,” she said, dumping a new handful of boxes into the cart. “And don’t call it junk. It’s a low-fat, complete meal with whole grains, protein, and a full serving of vegetables in every box.”

  “You forgot to mention the sodium and preservatives.” He snatched up the frozen dinners and waved the top one at her. “Grilled Chicken Primavera. Porca miseria. In Italy, you would be shot for this. Chicken does not belong in pasta!”

  “Good thing we’re not in Italy, then.” She selected a box of black bean burgers and added it to the cart. “Besides, I thought the cooking lesson was a one-time thing. To get me into bed.”

  He stared at her, momentarily speechless. Who was this woman? And what had happened to his soft, lovely, delightfully amorous Bella from last night and this afternoon? Clearly, he had his work cut out for him.

  He took a deep breath and deposited the frozen dinners atop their pile of purchases—all but the chicken-pasta abomination, which he returned to the freezer. Baby steps.

  “A few simple dishes, Bella. Just the basics. It’s better for your body than this artificial pre-fab…stuff.”

  “I thought you liked my body just fine the way it is.”

  “I do, cara. I love your body. I have many very delicious plans for your body. Which means you need to keep up your strength, and you can’t do that eating garbage. Tomorrow we will cook together, enough for you to freeze for the week if you insist on using the freezer. Okay?”

  “I’m busy tomorrow.”

  “Oh?” That wasn’t something he’d anticipated. He gripped the handlebar and pushed the cart past the frozen food section. “Where are you going?”

  She trailed after him. “Out. For brunch.”

  He stopped so abruptly that she almost bumped into him. “You told me you weren’t seeing anyone.”

  “I’m not. Or I wasn’t. I mean, you and I are sort of seeing each other now…aren’t we?”

  He closed the distance between them and cupped the back of her head, threading his fingers into the hair at the base of her neck and tugging lightly until she tilted her face up. Her eyes widened, as if guessing his intent. He didn’t give her the chance to protest. He simply claimed her mouth. No gentle overtures, no hesitant exploration. Not this time. This was a primal kiss, aggressive, powerful, untamed, a kiss that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but what it was: a man staking his claim.

  He sensed her surrender, felt the rigidity leaving her body, welcomed her weight as she sagged against him. Vaguely, he heard someone chuckle in the background, and another voice muttering, “Get a room.”

  Reluctantly, he lifted his head. Her face was flushed, her lips moist and swollen. She exhaled softly, and he nearly groaned. His fingers tightened briefly on her arm. “Does that answer your question?”

  She blinked and pushed away. For a moment, he thought she meant to ignore him. She opened mouth, shook her head, then sighed. “The girls and I have a standing date for brunch the last Sunday of every month.”

  He waited to see if she’d say more. The silence stretched. “Bene,” he finally said. “Was that so hard?”

  She frowned.

  He remembered seeing that exact expression on his younger nephew’s face, just before the boy would stamp his foot or stick out his tongue and say, “You’re not the boss of me.” Or the equivalent, in Italian.

  Sense of humor restored, Luca smiled and wheeled the cart toward the check-out line. Isabelle followed.

  As they unloaded their purchases onto the conveyer belt, she said, “Jane, Sam, and I all went to school together. College, then med school.” She paused while he paid, then continued, “For a while they lived nearby and we’d get together locally. Now that they’ve moved to Oakridge, either I meet them there, or we get together somewhere in between.”

  He ran the back of his finger down her cheek. “Thank you, Bella, for telling me.”

  Then he lifted the bags, shook his head when she offered to carry one, and stepped back so she could precede him out of the store.

  “So,” he said, as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Are you doing anything after brunch?”

  Chapter 13

  Isabelle spied Jane and Samantha already seated at one of the few free-standing tables in Minella’s Diner. She was fifteen minutes late, despite the fact that the place was just a half hour drive from her townhouse. She’d have been even later if Luca had succeeded in seducing her again in the shower this morning. As it was, he’d kept her up late into the night, driving her to the brink of orgasm time and again before finally plunging them both over the edge.

  Sam greeted her with an enthusiastic hug.

  Jane smiled. “You’ll pardon me if I don’t get up,” sh
e said, resting a hand on her pregnant belly.

  “You look terrific.” Isabelle leaned over to kiss her cheek. “How do you feel?”

  “Huge. Luckily Sam managed to snag this table for us. I don’t think I would have been able to fit in a booth.”

  Isabelle laughed and took a seat. “Sorry I’m late. Have you guys ordered?”

  “Not yet.” Sam handed her a menu from the pile at the end of the table. “We just got here ourselves. Jane made me pull off at every rest stop between Oakridge and Wayne.”

  “I can’t help it if junior is sitting right on top of my bladder.”

  Their waitress came by with glasses of ice water. “Morning, ladies. What can I get you?”

  “Coffee, to start,” Isabelle said.

  “Tea for me,” Jane put in.

  Sam raised a finger. “Me too.”

  Isabelle threw her a questioning glance, which Sam studiously ignored by burying her nose in the menu. The waitress left to get their drinks, giving them some time to peruse their brunch options.

  “I’ve been craving lox lately,” Jane said. “I don’t suppose…”

  Sam and Isabelle answered in unison, “No!”

  “You just need to hold off another six or seven weeks,” Isabelle said. “After you deliver, you can have all the smoked fish you want.”

  “Izzy’s right,” Sam agreed. “The last thing you need at this stage is a serious case of Listeriosis.”

  Jane sighed. “I hope this kid appreciates all the sacrifices I’m making for him.”

  It took another few minutes to place their orders. Isabelle stirred half-and-half into her coffee and wrinkled her nose at the taste. A few days in Luca’s company, and she’d already become spoiled. She glanced up to find Jane watching her with amusement. “What?”

  Jane smiled. “Nothing. It’s just…you look good.”

  “You do,” Sam confirmed. “Less stressed.”

  Jane took a sip of tea. “I told you, Sam, he can’t be all bad.”

  Isabelle looked from one to the other. “What are you talking about?”

  Sam shrugged.

  Jane was the one who answered. “We heard you’ve been spending time with a certain someone. Tall, dark, handsome, speaks Italian. Sound familiar?”

  “Really,” Isabelle hedged, feeling the color rise in her cheeks. “Since when do you listen to gossip?”

  “It’s not gossip if it’s true,” Sam pointed out.

  “Sounds like someone has changed her tune,” Isabelle said, feeling cornered. Luca’s re-appearance in her life was still too new for her to get a handle on, let alone discuss with others. Even if those others happened to be her best friends. The instinct for self-preservation spurred her toward sarcasm, and the words spilled out before she could stop them. “How is everyone’s favorite under-forty hottie doing?”

  The snarky reference to Sam and Alex’s own issues with gossip—more specifically, Alex’s long-standing battle to protect his family’s privacy against media intrusion—had Samantha frowning. “Fine, don’t tell us. We’ll wait for the paparazzi confirmation.”

  Isabelle let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Sam. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately.”

  Actually, she did know. But she really wasn’t ready to bring Luca into the conversation.

  “Forget about it,” Sam said. “Besides, who needs the paparazzi when you’ve got Twitter and tumblr?”

  “What?”

  “It’s been all over the news,” Jane said. “The Wall Street Journal, Fortune Magazine. The big IPO. It’s T-minus five days until the company starts trading publically. Ross and Alex have been through this once already, with Argus DigiTek. They’re predicting MegaData Analytics will be even bigger. And your Luca is part of it, the third member of their triumvirate. Like Ross says, they’re going to take over the world. So naturally, the world—or at least the press—is turning a spotlight on the men behind the company. And from there, you get lots of online chatter. Face it, Iz, if you’re a part of Luca’s life, your days of anonymity are over.”

  Isabelle had been so wrapped up in her own issues, she’d completely missed the fact that Luca was in the midst of such a big career move. Sure, he’d mentioned the IPO road show, but the blasé humor with which he’d discussed it had somehow downplayed the magnitude of the event.

  Thinking about it now, she realized the fact that he’d taken a leave of absence from Princeton until the fall should have clued her in. Luca, Alex, and Ross had been in business together for four years, launching the startup shortly before Jane and Ross’s wedding. And as far as she knew, this was the first time Luca had actually taken a break from his academic career. That alone should have indicated to her how important this whole IPO business was to him.

  Clearly, both Jane and Sam were well aware of what it meant to their husbands. Even now, Sam was saying something about Alex being nervous. “Of course, it’s not a matter of survival, like it was with Argus,” she said. “He doesn’t need the money to keep his family together. But this time, the entire tech world is watching. Wondering whether he and Ross can pull it off again, maybe even hoping to see them fail.”

  Jane nodded. “Schadenfreude.”

  “Exactly,” Sam said. “Everyone loves to see successful people end up with egg on their faces.”

  Their food arrived, and for several minutes they all concentrated on eating. Isabelle watched as Sam dumped her bacon on a paper napkin.

  “If you’re not going to eat that,” Isabelle said, “can I have it?”

  Sam slid the napkin over. “Help yourself.”

  Isabelle bit into a piece, relishing the flavor of smoke and salt and grease. She’d been doing that more and more lately: noticing and enjoying the taste of food, as if her taste buds were reawakening from a long period of hibernation.

  “How is Ross holding up?” Sam asked.

  “Pretty well,” Jane said, setting down her fork and resting a hand on her stomach. “To tell the truth, he’s more anxious about the baby.”

  That got Isabelle’s attention. “Why, did something happen?”

  “Nothing new. You know about the polyhydramnios, right? So I’m still going in twice a week to York hospital for monitoring. Everything checks out okay. But after the miscarriages, I think we’re both just a little nervous. We’ll be fine once I deliver, but until then….” She shrugged. “He tried to forbid me from coming today.”

  “What?” Isabelle stared at her. Ross was one of the most easygoing, mild-mannered men she’d ever met. She couldn’t imagine him going all medieval and actually forbidding Jane from doing something. “Why?”

  “He was afraid something might happen. The only reason he backed down was because I pointed out that you’d be here, Iz. Who better to have around than someone who’s delivered thousands of babies and could easily step up to the plate if something happened?”

  “I don’t do that anymore,” Isabelle reminded her. “Sam would probably do a better job delivering you at this point that I would.”

  “Thanks, Iz,” Sam said. “I’m sure you didn’t mean that to sound insulting. But I have to confess, it’s been at least a couple years since the last time I delivered a baby. And that was by accident.”

  “How do you deliver a baby by accident?” Isabelle said.

  “Yes, do tell,” Jane prompted. “I don’t think I’ve heard this one before.”

  “Well, you know I still do house-calls, right? Not often, but on occasion, when someone who lives out in the boonies is too sick to get to the urgent care.”

  Isabelle smiled, remembering a time when Sam had thought of Oakridge as the “boonies.” Located in the middle of rural York County, Pennsylvania, and boasting a population eighteen hundred, it certainly wasn’t the big city Samantha was used to, but she seemed quite happy living there now with her husband and twin boys.

  “So, anyway,” Sam continued, “this was one of those occasions. The kid was three, fever and cough for a few days, having some
trouble breathing. Mom was on her fourth pregnancy, about thirty-eight weeks along. Dad was out in the barn tending to a sick calf. I get there, and it’s total pandemonium. The kid’s having a full-blown asthma attack, there are two older siblings running around with toy guns pretending to be Power Rangers, and mom’s water breaks. Luckily, all she had to do was sneeze and out popped the baby.”

  “You’re kidding,” Isabelle said.

  “Okay, maybe she pushed a couple times—but that was it, I swear.”

  Jane grinned. “No offense, Sam, but I think I’ll stick with my OB at York Hospital.”

  “Glad to know I’m off the hook,” Sam said. “Are you planning on taking over the entire L&D floor when the time comes? Shutting it down to keep the paparazzi away?”

  Jane rolled her eyes. “You don’t think Alex might have gone a teensy bit overboard when the twins were born?”

  “Maybe,” Sam conceded. “But you have to remember he had a crazy stalker-ish ex-girlfriend who worked for some rag mag.”

  “Now who’s being melodramatic? The woman was a freelancer, and wrote mostly about the tech industry.”

  Sam fluttered her fingers. “Whatever.”

  “Besides, on the Richter scale of celebrity, where zero is your average Joe and ten is Kate Middleton after she married Prince William, I’m about a zero-point-zero-zero-one. Seriously. I’ve even fallen off the radar of the American Psychiatric Association since I stopped attending their annual meetings.”

  “Wait a minute,” Isabelle said. “What about all that ‘say goodbye to your anonymity’ talk?”

  Jane laughed. “Oh, that only applies to you crazy young single folks. Sam and I are boring. No one wants to read about happily married old ladies.”

  Sam tossed a napkin at her. “Who’re you calling old?”

  Jane raised her hands in surrender. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to find the restroom.”

  Isabelle poured herself some more coffee from the carafe the waitress had left behind. “You sure you don’t want some?” she asked Sam.