by Lisa Cardiff
Admittedly, I had kissed her partly because I’d wanted her for longer than I cared to admit out loud. She’d caught my attention a long time before that night my dad and I showed up at her parents’ house. I saw her at a restaurant with Rocco a year or so before he died. Then off and on when I covertly checked in on my sister. Carmela was off limits then, and if I were thinking clearly, I would keep her firmly planted in the no-go zone. My dad would have us married within the month if I gave him the smallest opening, and I couldn’t risk dragging anyone else into my screwed up life.
“I don’t know,” I rasped out, finally answering her question because I’m not always as big of an asshole as I make myself out to be.
Despite all of the compelling reasons to stay away from Carmela, I was already talking myself into pushing the boundaries if only this once. I wanted to know what her skin felt like beneath my fingertips and against me. I wanted to know what she tasted like, the sounds she made when she came apart, and so much more. It would take me hours to list the things I wanted to know about Carmela Trassato. Once the thought took root, it wouldn’t release its grip on me, and I succumbed to the urge to check a few things off the list.
Shifting closer to her, I framed her lower back with my fingers, mapping that stunning arc where her small waist swelled into her shapely ass. If she wanted me to leave her alone, I would without hesitation. Growing up with a single mom and a sister made me sensitive to forcing myself on a woman or making them uncomfortable.
I waited and watched…
Her eyelids lowered. Her breathing accelerated. Her hands cupped the side of my head and she slanted into me. Without words, she told me everything I needed to know. I pressed my mouth against her full wine-colored lips that somehow managed to be ten times headier than the drink they emulated.
Her lips quivered, her breath hitched, and her muscles tensed. She melded into me, her palms sliding down my face, traveling against the grain of my stubble and finally curling into the ends of my hair. She tugged on the roots, opened her mouth, and I was in. Her tongue twirled around mine, hungry and insistent. I tasted mint. I smelled lemons. I nipped at her lower lip, then pulled it into my mouth. Her breath sputtered. Her body trembled, and for the first time in years, I felt alive. More than alive.
My hands rounded her ass and skirted under the hem of her dress. Her skin was like silk under the pads of my fingers. Her flesh pebbled. Her heart pounded against my chest. A half-sigh, half-moan tumbled from her lips, and instead of checking things off my list and moving on with my life, every reaction only added to my drive to know more about this woman.
Her submission didn’t last long enough to quench my thirst. The second my fingers made contact with the lacy edge of her panties, she unwound her arms and retreated a few steps. Breathing roughly with her tits heaving, she trained her unfocused eyes on the floor.
“I think it’d be best if we skipped dinner,” she announced after more than a few painfully silent beats.
“We still have plenty of time until our reservation.”
“No. I need some space. In fact, we both do. Things got a little out of hand and we’re supposed to be finding a way out of the deal we made, not exploring each other.”
“I never promised anything.”
“No. You’re right. You didn’t.” She swallowed and her slim neck bobbed like she had difficulty completing the action. “Except the news of us will inevitably trickle back to Nico, and he won’t be happy. I think we should be a little more careful until we’re sure which way this will go.”
“I don’t give a shit about Nico.” The quicker the news of Carmela and me made it back to him, the quicker I could unwind this mess my dad concocted. If Nico found out, he’d want to make a deal that kept me far away from Carmela. Undoubtedly, marrying Carmela played a key role in his goal to secure more power in the Trassato family.
“Well, I do. I don’t like to hurt people, and Nico will think I’m playing with him if he finds out that we,” she waved her hand between us, “you know, and then there’s Rocco.”
Anger flared through me, eating at my gut. I pounded the palm of my hand against the wall and she recoiled. Here she was worried about Nico while my taste was still fresh on her lips. With nearly a hundred percent certainty, I knew Nico didn’t give a shit about Carmela beyond what she could offer him. He manipulated people and situations. He was a treasonous bastard. Everybody realized this except the Trassato family.
As for the Rocco comment, I couldn’t touch it. One, you couldn’t compete with a dead man’s memory. And two, Renzo had insinuated Rocco didn’t have a fucking halo over his head the entire time he’d been with Carmela. None of that was my business and nothing good would come of digging up dirt on Rocco except a shitload of hurt feelings that might never be resolved.
“You better get used to it because if this whole thing is going to work, Nico needs to have a pretty strong incentive to cut a deal that satisfies my dad.”
“You want Nico to find out about us?”
“Of course. What do you think this is about? He wants to marry you, and I’m pretty sure he’s our ticket out of this. He’ll fight for you. I know it. He needs you, or at least he thinks he does.”
“I don’t like it. It doesn’t feel right.”
“And marrying me does?”
“There has to be another way,” she whispered, looking lost.
“If you find one, I’m all ears. Until then, incentivizing Nico is our best option.”
She shifted on her feet and blew out a shaky breath. “Then why’d you kiss me? Nobody is here to witness it.”
I scanned her body from head to toe, letting her see how beautiful I thought she was. “While I might not want to marry you, I’m not blind. You’re sexy as fuck, and you know we have chemistry. There’s no harm in exploring it. We might as well get it out of our system before you’re permanently chained to Nico.”
“Ugh. I can’t believe you.” She cocked her hip and lifted her chin. “I’ve had enough for tonight. Take me home.”
“Sure, solnyshka.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What does that mean? You said it earlier.”
“It’s not important.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Carmela
“You’re quiet tonight. Is something wrong?”
Nico lifted the bottle of wine and refilled my glass. When he’d invited me to dinner, I didn’t realize he planned to have me come to his home. I would have picked a more public venue. I wasn’t ready to take our relationship to a new, more intimate level. My instincts told me Nico had every intention of hitting the fast forward button, and tonight was only the beginning of his campaign.
He had pulled out all the stops. Flickering candles, dimmed lighting, red roses, bubbly lasagna, a bottle of Chianti, tiramisu from Carbone’s Bakery, soft music.
None of his efforts inspired a surge of fuzzy romantic feelings for him, which didn’t make sense. Most women would be floating on a cloud of bliss, having a man like Nico trying to woo them. I wasn’t most women, though, and his actions coupled with my mom’s insistence on beating the “Nico’s so great drum” sent me into a mental tailspin. Their expectations and the inevitability of my future felt like a hangman’s noose slowly contracting around my neck.
I lifted the glass of wine to my lips and the tang of tart cherries curled up my nose. I wasn’t a big red wine drinker. It made me tired and gave me a dull morning after headache. I poured a drop of the dry wine between my lips. “I’m tired.”
“Oh really?”
“I didn’t get much sleep.”
“Hm.” He leaned forward, his forearm skating on top of the table. “Did you get home late last night?”
“Not too late.”
“Your mom said you went out to dinner with a friend from school or something. I didn’t realize you were taking classes.”
“Oh, yeah.” I twisted the napkin in my lap. I hated lying, and as much as Kon wanted Nico to think there was something happ
ening between us, I couldn’t deal with the fallout tonight. I wasn’t strong enough to face Nico or my family. “I’m not taking classes. Not now, anyway. I was working on my interior design degree before everything happened with Rocco, and I haven’t found the time to dedicate to it with my dad and everything else.”
He reached across the table, brushing his fingertips across the top of my hand. “You want to finish your degree?”
“I do. I enrolled in some classes this fall, and if my mom is doing better, I intend to go ahead with it.”
“Rocco and your dad approved of you pursuing a career?”
“They knew I wanted to finish my degree,” I prevaricated, not interested in rehashing the fights about wanting a career. Initially, Rocco supported me. He went so far as to help me put my application together. My dad was a different story altogether. He hated the idea of his daughter being “a lackey” for people too lazy or dumb to pick out their own shit.
Over time, Rocco changed his tune too. He said I could finish my degree if I didn’t try to pursue a career, and there was the crux of our nonstop fights leading up to his death. Rocco got this hair up his ass that he wanted to start a family right away and became more and more insistent that I give up my dreams in order to facilitate his.
“Don’t you think you’re a little too old to finish now?”
If I was bristling before, now my mood bordered on livid. Holy hell. Why did everyone act like I was ancient? I wasn’t some spinster who’d spent my life with my nose buried in books. I had come within one month of marrying Rocco. I had plenty of friends and an active social life before my life spiraled into the toilet. I’d been in a funk for three years now, but if I focused on meeting my career goals, I’d find normalcy again, or some version of it.
“No. I don’t.” I dropped my fork, and it clattered against my plate. “I need twenty credits to finish my degree, which means by next summer I’ll be done. I won’t even be thirty by then. That hardly qualifies as too old to start a career.”
He scooted his chair closer to mine. “Carmela, I didn’t mean to imply anything. I support you in whatever you want to do with your life. I’m here for you. I’ll always support you to the best of my abilities.”
“Okaaay.” I drew out the word. “What are you trying to say?”
“While we haven’t discussed it, you know your family wants us to get married. I’ve been attracted to you for a long time. I never did anything about it seeing that you had Rocco. Now that he’s gone and your dad isn’t around to look after you—”
“I have Gian, and this isn’t the Dark Ages. I can take care of myself, get a job and earn money. I don’t need to rely on a man to do it for me, and I certainly don’t need to marry to find worth or value in my life.”
“I know. I don’t doubt you’re capable of running your life.” He twirled the stem of his wine glass, his blue eyes hooded. “Still, you know how things work in our world. You can’t be alone, and I gave your father my word that I’d look after you. I take all of my promises seriously.”
“So what are you suggesting?”
“We’re going to get married. That’s not in doubt. Dominick agrees. It’s what your father wanted. So we’re going to take some time to get to know each other, and see how we can make this work. Once we figure it out, we’ll announce our engagement. I’ll give you enough freedom to pursue your interests, and I’ll pursue mine. We’ll make a great team, and we won’t step on each other’s toes.”
Ice rushed down my spine, and I balled my hands into fists, the sharp bite of my nails the only thing stopping me from throwing wine at his all too smug face. This was like déjà vu. I had two men playing this let’s get to know each other game and neither one cared about me. The real me. They wanted me for my connections to Dominick. I was a box to be checked on the road to their success.
“So you’re basically admitting you aren’t interested in me beyond what the connection to my family will provide. I can do what I want and you do whatever it is you do without interference.”
“Don’t get upset. I like you, Carmela. You’re a beautiful, and by most accounts intelligent, woman.” His lazy stare dropped to my chest, lingering there for a beat and then swept back up to my face. “I have every intention treating you like a real wife. I want kids. I want to make this work.”
“What if we’re not compatible? Do you still want to marry me?”
“We’ll be compatible.”
“You don’t know that,” I whispered, feeling as if an invisible hand was squeezing my lungs.
“I’ll pay for the rest of your degree. I’ll make sure you get the job of your dreams when you finish. You can redecorate my place in the meantime to get your creative juices flowing. Do whatever you want. Make it a real home for us, one you’re proud of.”
“What do you want in return?”
“Your loyalty.”
“Do I get yours?”
I saw how the men affiliated with the family worked. They put their wives and families on a pedestal, lavished them with material goods. They did put them first, only they had a tendency to stray.
Without question, my mom and dad loved each other. I was aware of the rumors, though, and they weren’t reassuring. I overheard the hushed accusations my mom threw his way when my dad came home late reeking of cheap perfume. I didn’t understand how she put up with it. It was one of the reasons I loved Rocco so much. We were a team. He didn’t keep secrets from me, and I never had to worry about him cheating on me.
Renzo DiTonno’s rant floated through my head not for the first time since my disastrous pseudo-date with Kon. His accusation, coupled with kissing Kon, made sleeping last night next to impossible, and I still couldn’t decide which event had rattled me more.
“Of course. You’d be my wife.”
“Are loyalty and fidelity one and the same?” I probed, needing to understand the type of arrangement he was proposing.
He took a deep drink of his wine, nearly draining the glass. “It’s what we should strive for, but both of us are old enough to know that nothing lasts forever. There’s no such thing as a happy ending, Carmela. Not with Rocco. Not with me, or anyone else for that matter. Every relationship has its ups and downs. Ours won’t be any different.”
I clutched the seat of my chair with both hands. My already absent appetite shriveled up died, and I wanted to go home. “I can’t fault you for being honest. I guess I have a lot to think about.”
He stared at me without explaining or contradicting me, and for the first time, I noticed that the music had stopped. Maybe he turned it off at some point or maybe it was life’s way of confirming fairytales didn’t exist. While things may appear perfect on the outside, more often than not they concealed secrets and a whole lot of ugliness.
Not a minute too soon his doorbell rang and my shoulders sagged with relief. The tension stretching between us had thickened to the point where I didn’t feel like I could take in another breath.
“Excuse me. I should get that.” He pushed back his chair and crossed the room, his polished black Ferragamos clipping over the hardwood floors.
The door squeaked open. Lowered voices floated down the hall. One of them was a woman, piquing my curiosity. Nico and I weren’t anything to each other. Not yet anyway. Sure, we were in the middle of negotiating our potential marriage and we’d kissed at Gian and Evie’s wedding, though in spite of all of that, I didn’t believe for a second either of those things would keep Nico from playing the field. At this point, I truly didn’t care either way. After we married was another story. I didn’t want his infidelities waved in my face. I wouldn’t spend my life playing the tragic wife role.
I padded down the hall, freezing with one foot suspended in front of the other. “Ava, what are you doing here?”
“There you are.” She took a step back, dropping her hand from Nico’s upper arm. Her gaze darted to Nico, then back to me. “I was looking for you.”
“Why’s that?”
She yanked on the hem of her black midriff-baring shirt. “Your mom said you were here and I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d stop by and see if you needed a ride.”
“Thanks for thinking of me. You shouldn’t have bothered, though. Nico can take me home or I’ll catch a cab.”
“Oh, well, I should get going then.” She twisted her honey colored hair around her finger. I didn’t understand why she lightened it. It was so pretty and soft before she started playing with it. “Tell your mom I said hi.”
“Don’t be silly. Come in and have a drink with us. We were finishing up with dinner. You can share our dessert.”
Nico shot me a dark look, and I smiled blandly. I wasn’t anxious to get back to our conversation. I couldn’t promise Nico a future right now. I had to come to an agreement with Kon and his father before I could move forward with Nico, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Outwardly, he had several of the things women yearned for in a man: a lean athletic build, a swoon-worthy face, money, and power. Only I wanted more—a deeper connection. I wanted to share some level of affection and trust with the man I married even if it never amounted to love.
“I don’t want to intrude.” Ava kept her brown eyes trained on Nico rather than me. “I’m sure Nico has all sorts of things planned tonight.”
“No, come in,” Nico gritted out, opening the door wider. While his gesture was welcoming, his voice was unforgiving and terse, leaving little doubt he didn’t like her barging in on our dinner.
Ava swallowed hard, then glanced over her shoulder. “No. I need to get going. I have early morning plans.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, call me soon and we’ll go out for dinner or drinks sometime next week.”
“Sure thing.”
Nico closed the door the minute she turned her back.
“That was strange. Has she been here before or something?”
“Yeah, most likely.” Nico draped his arm over my shoulder and ushered me to the dinner table. “Ava and my sister Gemma were best friends back in the day. They don’t hang out much anymore. Gemma got caught up in a bad scene. Drugs, parties, booze. She’s cleaned up her act and has a sobriety buddy, Lanelle or something. They seem to be keeping each other outta trouble. That’s all I care about. Her son needs her.”
