“Come on, Allen,” Rico said. “Get your date and leave.”
When he’d gone, Marc sat down beside her. He winced, then shifted and pulled her hair clip from his pocket, handing it to her. “I believe this is yours.”
How did he just turn off all that power in an instant? Now that the confrontation had ended, Angelina began shaking even more. Marc wrapped his arm around her, pulling her against his side. She laid her head in the crook of his arm and shoulder.
“Shhhh. It’s over.”
Angelina froze, transported back once more to the words spoken by her dream lover. Had that been a premonition for meeting Marc? Was this predestined? No, the scene in her dream was nothing like this one. Her angel-man-wolf held her in his arms on a loveseat, probably at the same club at which Allen had beaten her. She shuddered as she remembered how she’d barely been able to function for days, and almost lost a client as a result.
Given what she’d learned about deep subspace on the Internet, maybe the dream was just part of a hallucination when her mind and body had separated. She’d created the Dom she wanted. Karla told her a dungeon monitor had found her in time. If not, she could have had serious hallucinations and other problems while her mind and body remained separated.
Like Marc, the man in her dreams was Northern Italian and the two often spoke the same words verbatim. Was it cultural? Or was Marc a Dom, as well? She hoped not. She’d had enough dominant men to last a lifetime. She tried to conjure up an image of the elusive dream man’s face. All she’d really see were a mouth and a square chin. Right now, she was too exhausted to sit up and compare Marc’s chin with that of her dream lover’s. She felt so incredibly safe in Marc’s arms that wanted to stay here forever. Angelina relaxed against him even more.
Rico came back to the booth. “You okay, Angie?” She nodded, but didn’t pull away from Marc, or even open her eyes.
“I think the lady could use something a little stronger than wine,” Luke ordered.
“I’ve got just the thing.”
When the margarita was placed in front of her a few moments later, Luke leaned over and held it to her lips. “Here, Angel. Drink.”
Angel. Was that an endearment or just a shortened version of her name? She let him hold the glass as she drank, but the act was over, wasn’t it? She took the glass from him and drained it, then sputtered as it burned from her throat to her stomach.
Luke laughed. “Whoa, you might regret that come morning.”
“She earned it,” Marc said, then turned his attention to her and whispered. “You were so brave.”
Her heart swelled at the familiar words. She searched his eyes. Green. Why did she think her angel-man-wolf’s eyes were the same color? She really couldn’t remember, though. The images were vague.
“I’m sorry he insulted you guys like that,” Angelina said. “I don’t want to go into what we broke up over, but…”
Marc grew serious and cupped her chin and jaw, lifting her face to meet his gaze. The pulse in her neck beat against his fingertips. Surely he must feel it. She pulled away.
Marc’s eyes furrowed as if hurt by her retreat, then he smiled. “You have nothing to apologize for, and I know
exactly
what he…is.” He seemed to be about to say something else before correcting himself.
Angelina tried to smile at them both for being so supportive, but couldn’t ignor her disappointment. With Allen’s departure from the bar, her magical evening with them would come to an end. She looked at Marc, then Luke. Both radiated concern about her well-being. Well, they were search-and-rescue workers, after all. And they’d certainly rescued her from Allen.
“Thanks so much for being here for me tonight. Despite how it’s ending, I had a wonderful time.” She reached for her shawl and purse.
“Who says the evening must end,
cara
?”
“I do. You’re both gone above and beyond the call of duty.”
Luke smiled. “Wish all our rescue missions were this much fun.”
“We have no desire for this evening to end either,” Marc assured her.
“That’s kind of you to say,” she began, “but if I’m going to prepare that feast I promised tomorrow night, I’m going to have to get to the farmer’s market early in the morning.”
Marc pointed to her empty margarita and two wineglasses. “One thing you will not be doing tonight,
cara
, is driving home.”
She smiled at his overprotective attitude. “No worries. I walked.”
“Well, then, we’ll take you home, Angel.” Luke reached in his pocket for his keys as Rico approached the table, his damned “big brother” notebook in hand.
“Fellas, can I have a word with you?”
Man, how’d he know what they were talking about? Italian radar, she guessed. Angelina sighed. “Now, Rico, don’t go all big brother on me.”
He grinned, but didn’t budge. “Can I see some IDs?”
“Beg pardon?” Luke asked.
“Rico!” Angelina rolled her eyes, but she knew from experience there was no way to get an Italian big brother—even a surrogate one—to back down once he got all overprotective.
“I just want them both to know that I’ll be checking up on you later tonight. If you’re not okay, I’ll be reporting them to the police.”
Marc reached for his wallet, laughing. “It’s fine,
cara.
I would want no less for my sister.” Why did his thinking of her like a sister bother her so much, when she didn’t even want a relationship with him or any other man at the moment?
Luke reached for his wallet, as well, and both men laid their driver’s licenses on the table long enough for Rico to jot down their information into his notebook.
Ten minutes later, they pulled up to her curb. She said goodnight to Luke in the SUV. Marc cupped her elbow as he helped her out of the vehicle and escorted her up the short sidewalk to the porch of her bungalow rental. The evening air was chilly, but her pulse thrummed, warming her blood. Okay, the margarita might have helped, too. Not to mention the hot body walking beside her.
When she missed the top step in those damned shoes, Marc caught her in his arms before she fell and spun her toward him, pressing her against his hard body. The contact with her thighs and breasts triggered a red alert throughout her body.
Careful, Angie. This man could break your heart
.
She stepped out of his arms, but her body swayed toward him with a will of its own. Oh, man. She backed toward the door and opened her handbag. She hated to send him on his way tonight and didn’t want to analyze why his leaving disappointed her.
“Thanks for seeing me home, Marc. I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner. Sevenish. Come hungry.” She looked up at his eyes, which crinkled with a smile. “I can’t thank you and Luke enough for all the rescuing you did tonight.
“It was you who rescued us,
cara
—from yet another dull night in a strange town.”
Marc leaned closer, sending all thoughts from her head. Her heartbeat accelerated, leaving her gasping for her next breath. She opened her mouth to draw in more air just as his firm lips captured hers and all thoughts, happy or otherwise, fled her brain. His kiss was gentle, teasing. He nibbled at her lower lip, but didn’t force himself inside.
One hand slid behind her to support her back, stroking her bare skin through the keyhole opening. She placed her hand against the back of his head and hoped he would deepen the kiss. At first, he seemed to grow tense. Just when she thought he would pull away, Marc’s warm tongue delved into her mouth, causing a delicious heaviness to settle in her pelvis.
For the first time in her life, there was toe-curling—just the kind she’d read about in her novels.
Too bad someone wasn’t supporting her legs, because they were about to give out. As if he’d heard her thought, he pressed her against the doorjamb, holding her upright with his hard body. Angelina wrapped both arms around his neck to hang on for dear life. The curling sensation moved to the pit of her stomach, then burst like fireworks, causing her nipples to swell and an insistent throbbing to begin at the juncture of her thighs.
Just when she knew she wouldn’t be able to deny him anything tonight, he pulled away. His breathing was harsh and erratic.
“Sleep well,
angelo mio
.”
Drawing a ragged breath, she tamped down the feeling of regret. Intellectually, she knew this was for the best. Thank God at least one of them had self-control.
When she just stood there panting and staring up at him, Marc chuckled. “Let me unlock the door for you, pet.” When she didn’t move, he took her handbag and retrieved her key.
Pet
. Her dream lover had used that endearment. Well, as endearments went, it was lousy. An independent woman like herself should have been offended by his calling her pet. So why did the word cause butterflies to flutter in her stomach? If he
was
a Dom, she should be running far and fast. But one thing she knew for certain—at this moment, she would have submitted to him if he’d asked. Maybe not for kinky BDSM play, but definitely for sex.
Thrown completely off balance, she continued to lean against the doorframe for support as he unlocked and opened the door. Being a possible Dom was bad enough. The man also was a D’Alessio. So out of her league. And Luke? She’d been ready to fall at his feet when he kissed her at the pool table.
What was the matter with her tonight? Was she just sex starved?
So, how had she gone from wanting no man to wanting two? Despite what Allen had insinuated, she didn’t do threesomes.
Oh, Angie, who said anything about a threesome? Get the hell inside before you embarrass yourself
.
“Well, um, good night, Marc.” Her words sounded rushed, breathless, and lame, but before she changed her mind and dragged him inside with her, she scurried into the living room and closed the door behind her. Breathing a lungful of lavender-scented air to replenish the oxygen his nearness had deprived her brain of, she leaned her forehead against the door and sighed.
“Lock the door,
cara
,” he whispered.
A tingling danced down her spine as if he’d whispered a sexual command against her ear. Like “kneel,
cara
.” She grinned, then turned the deadbolt and locked the doorknob.
Marc chuckled. “Good night,
bella
.” Then she heard his footsteps cross the wooden planks of the porch. Moments later, the car ignition turned over and they drove away.
Tomorrow they both would be inside her house for the dinner they had earned. Then she realized that Marc hadn’t kissed her just now as a show for Allen.
Mio Dio!
What was she getting herself into?
* * *
Angelina applied lip gloss and pressed her lips together, then stepped back from the full-length mirror on her bedroom door. She hoped she hadn’t overdone it, but the white Manoush party dress hid her wide hips. Twirling to hear the swish of the petticoat, she couldn’t keep the grin from her face. Returning to the closet, she slipped into the stilettos, knowing they were sexy as hell. At least she wouldn’t have to walk much in them tonight.
Time to get the bruschetta ready. The guys should be here within the next half hour. The smells of Nonna’s kitchen permeated the rooms of her tiny bungalow, transporting her to summer nights in Marsala, Sicily.
Angelina made her way back to the kitchen where she’d prepared many of her family’s favorites, hoping Marc and Luke would enjoy them, as well. Judging by how snug the waistline of this dress fit, she wouldn’t be able to eat much tonight herself.
Her stomach knotted every time she thought about Marc’s kiss last night, which had left her aching for something more. Her defenses had crumbled like a fortress of cards, her conviction that she was finished with men buried in the rubble. Luke’s kiss during the pool game had sent similar thoughts into her mind. But that was just for show.
Dressed like this, she certainly didn’t look like she was planning to put the brakes on whatever either of them wanted. Thoughts of their hands on her body sent a flush to her face.
She spread her homemade roasted garlic and golden tomatoes onto the slices of bread and heard the doorbell ring as she drizzled it with imported olive oil. A quick glance at the wall clock showed it was only six-thirty-five. They’d come early. She smiled at their eagerness. She’d serve them a glass of wine while she finished up in the kitchen. At least she was dressed. After rinsing and drying her hands, she nervously smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her dress. Her heart raced in anticipation before she even reached the door.
Knowing who she’d find there, she opened it without checking first and came face-to-face with Allen instead. Her heart plummeted. Talk about a letdown. He smiled an insipid smirk. Funny she hadn’t noticed what a weak mouth he had before.
“Angie, you look gorgeous.”
Looking around his shoulder toward the curb, she hoped to see Marc and Luke pulling up. No such luck. She turned her attention back to the unwanted man standing in her doorway and willed her voice to remain calm. “Allen, I’m expecting company.”
A shadow crossed over his face and his smile faded. “Those guys from the bar?”
“None of your business. I really don’t have time to talk now.”
She moved to close the door on him, but he shoved it out of the way, forcing himself inside. Caught off balance, she retreated a step or two, trying to regain her equilibrium on the wobbly stilettos.
“Get out, Allen! I told you I don’t want you anywhere near me again.”
His gaze roamed over her, making her feel dirty from head to heel. “You let those two men paw all over you last night, but you barely let me touch you in seven months. Then when I do, you get all hysterical.”
Angelina’s heart pounded as warning bells went off in her head. The look in his eyes told her he wasn’t going to take a simple “get lost” for an answer. Something in his face wasn’t right. She tried to remember the lessons her brothers had taught her about fighting off overly amorous boyfriends, but she’d never really had to use them before. Most guys respected her “no” as a no.
“Allen, leave now or I’m calling 911.”
If I can remember where I put my damned cell phone
.