Italian Knights

by Sharon DeVita

  “Well, well, well,” Sal commented, looking directly at Annie and deliberately ignoring David. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “Yes,” David murmured none too graciously. “Quite a coincidence.”

  “What are you doing here?” Annie asked with a calmness she didn’t feel. She should be furious that he had followed her, but what she was feeling right now was simply gratitude.

  Sal grinned. “I was thirsty,” he lied, handing a bottle of wine to the hovering waiter and taking the chair he offered.

  “Thirsty,” David repeated in disdain, glancing suspiciously at the bottle the waiter was now opening. “Dom Perignon. I didn’t think a civil servant could afford such luxuries.”

  Annie’s glance went from David to Sal. David had better be careful; this servant didn’t look too civil to her at the moment.

  “Well, Davey,” Sal drawled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’d be surprised at our resources.” Wait until ole Davey found out he had charged the wine to Davey’s tab!

  “No doubt.” David reached out and covered Annie’s hand with his again. Sal’s gaze followed his movement, and Annie noted the sudden possessive gleam in his eye. His face grew tight, angry. She had a feeling David was deliberately trying to annoy Sal, and if the look on Sal’s face was any indication, he was doing a good job.

  Annie was tempted to pull her hand free of David’s. His touch was cold and clammy, but to yank her hand away would have been rude. She didn’t like being a pawn for anyone, and David’s actions seemed deliberate. Her stomach tightened. She’d always hated verbal confrontations, and she had a feeling she was about to be drawn right smack-dab into the middle of one.

  “What brings you to this part of town?” David inquired. “This hardly seems like the type of place someone like you would frequent.”

  “David!” Annie turned to him in alarm. She might be annoyed at Sal for following her, but that was between her and Sal. It didn’t give David the right to be rude. Sal was only looking out for her, only trying to protect her. So how could she be angry?

  “Someone like me?” Sal repeated, a small smile on his face. The only hint of his annoyance was the lowered tone of his voice. “And what type of someone am I?”

  Oh, Lord, Annie thought, rolling her eyes toward the heavens. If David had as much sense as money, he would lighten up. Sal wasn’t the type of man to be pushed around or insulted, by anyone.

  David smiled benignly, tightening his grip on Annie’s hand. “Oh, you know,” he said vaguely, taking a menu from the still-hovering waiter and making a great show of handing one to Annie. She retrieved her hand from his and stared at her menu, not seeing a word of it.

  She had no idea what David and Sal thought they were accomplishing, other than annoying her. This wasn’t just pleasant social banter any longer; this was some kind of traditional macho, possessive ritual, and apparently she was the possession. Evidently it hadn’t occurred to either man that neither had a right to be possessive about her or her company.

  “Will there be three for dinner?” the waiter inquired politely.

  “No,” David said firmly.

  “Yes,” Sal corrected smoothly, taking the other menu out of the waiter’s hand before he had a chance to hand it to David. Sighing, Annie shared her menu with David, ignoring his closeness as he dipped his head to read the evening’s selections. His cologne infiltrated her breathing space. Unconsciously, she raised a hand to rub her forehead.

  “Got a headache, Annie?” Sal inquired softly, ignoring David who looked up in surprise. She always rubbed her forehead in that circling motion whenever she had a headache. It was just one of a thousand endearing things he knew about Annie.

  “No doubt,” David said, giving Sal a look that clearly said he was the reason for Annie’s sudden headache.

  “Yes. But I can’t imagine why,” she added dryly, looking from one man to the other with barely disguised irritation. She was not going to just sit here while these two did whatever it was they thought they were doing.

  “Excuse me,” Annie said, standing up and scooping her purse from the table. “I think I’ll go take some aspirin.” She hoped that whatever was going on would be settled by the time she returned.

  Both men stood up, almost knocking their chairs over in an effort to beat each other to their feet. Shaking her head in disgust, Annie headed for the ladies’ room.

  “Look, Sal,” David said. “Let’s put our cards on the table, shall we? Ann’s told me all about you. I can understand how you might feel a certain…obligation to her and all, but you aren’t her keeper.”

  Sal’s jaw tightened, and he looked at David darkly. “What I am to Annie,” he said quietly, “is really none of your business.”

  “On the contrary,” David replied smoothly. “It is my business. She’s with me tonight. Let’s face it, Ann’s a beautiful woman. She’s been without a man for two long, lonely years.”

  “So?” Sal’s expression turned to stone.

  “So…” David shrugged, grinning broadly. “Come on, Sal, we both know a woman like Ann, all alone without a man for so long.” David winked boldly. “You understand, sport, don’t you?”

  Sal understood, all too clearly. He felt his temper boil over as all his protective and possessive instincts came to light. It took a supreme effort for him not to rearrange David’s face.

  “You see,” David went on, oblivious to the danger glinting in Sal’s stormy eyes, “I know exactly what Ann needs and wants. And I’m the kind of man who always gives a lady what she wants.” David winked again and Sal shot to his feet. “If you know what I mean.”

  “If you lay a hand on her I swear I’ll—”

  “Sal!” Shocked, Annie grabbed his arm, dismayed at his behavior. “What on earth is wrong with you?” She looked from David to Sal in total confusion. “With both of you?”

  The two men glared at each other, neither of them admitting or acknowledging what the problem was.

  “Look, I’ve had just about enough of this,” Annie warned. “You’re both acting like children, and I’m tired of it.” She turned on Sal, deciding to tackle one problem at a time. “You had no right to follow me,” she scolded, growing furious at David’s smug grin. “And you,” she snapped, whirling on David, “had no right to be so rude. Sal is a friend of mine, and I expect you to keep a civil tongue.” David’s smile slid off his face. Annie drew herself up and took a deep breath. “Now we can either all have a nice dinner, together, or—” she swept them both with a glare, “—I’m going home. Alone. Now what is it going to be?” She looked at Sal, whose lips tightened into a grim line.

  If Annie thought he was going to leave her alone with this loose-lipped lech she was in for a rude surprise. He wasn’t budging until he was certain she was safe and sound, and if that meant crawling in Dancing David’s pocket for the rest of the evening, that’s exactly what he intended to do.

  Sal looked at David. Unless they made some attempt at peace, Annie would leave, and he knew he would never convince her that David was the wrong man for her. She would just accuse him of being jealous and overprotective. Hell, he was jealous and overprotective. But he had to do something to salvage the situation.

  Sal extended his hand to David. He would make peace, for Annie’s sake.

  David took it giving Sal a measured look. “As long as we understand each other,” he said coldly.

  “Oh, we do,” Sal said, matching David stare for stare. “Believe me, I understand you perfectly.”

  “Good. Shall we order?” Annie asked, taking her seat and breathing a sigh of relief. Hopefully things would return to normal. She wasn’t certain how normal three on a date was, but she was going to do her part.

  Dinner was a silent, strained affair. Annie felt David’s and Sal’s eyes on her during the whole meal, making her increasingly uncomfortable. Her appetite disappeared and her headache worsened. She should have known this was a mistake. She’d had more fun going to the movies with Mr. Fin
ucci, even if he did fall asleep on her shoulder and snore in her ear.

  Once the table was cleared and coffee poured, Annie tried to mentally prepare herself for the next round between the men. The tension was thick enough to cut with an ax. All she wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed and pretend this evening had never happened.

  “Ann,” David said, deliberately ignoring Sal. “Would you care to dance? They have a wonderful combo—”

  “Dancing is out of the question,” Sal responded before she had a chance to open her mouth. She turned to him with a scowl and he grinned, obviously enjoying himself. “Annie has two left feet,” he confided to David.

  “Sal,” Annie began ominously. Heaving an exasperated sigh, David stood up and threw his napkin on the table. Oh, Lord, they were at it again.

  “David, please?” she implored, reaching out for his jacket.

  “Let me handle this,” David said, brushing off her arm. “Now see here, Sal ole boy. I think you’re carrying this protectiveness a bit too far. Ann’s a big girl, and she certainly doesn’t need your permission to dance with me or go out with me. I thought we’d settled all this.”

  “Oh, it’s settled, all right,” Sal said calmly, standing up and wedging himself between David and Annie.

  “Sal,” Annie warned, but he ignored her. She slowly stood up, staring at Sal intensely. “David, would you please excuse us for a moment?”

  “Yes, David,” Sal added, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Why don’t you go…powder your nose, or something.”

  Pivoting on his heel, David gave Sal a dark look before storming off.

  “Are you crazy?” Annie cried, giving Sal a whack on the arm. “What has gotten into you tonight? What are you doing here?”

  “I told you, I was thirsty,” he lied, trying not to grin at her harassed expression.

  “Sal.” Her eyes darkened.

  They glared at one another for a long, silent moment and finally Sal flashed her a wicked grin. “Are you mad, Annie?”

  “Mad!” Annie yelled, ignoring the startled look of the waiter who was hovering close by. She glared up into Sal’s amused face, deliberately lowering her voice. “Would you care to explain to me why I’m dragging a deranged detective around with me? This is supposed to be a date for two, Sal, not three!”

  “Are you saying you don’t want me here?” he asked, trying to look properly hurt. Her anger softened.

  “I’ve got a good mind to call your mother and tell her what you’ve been doing,” Annie complained, wondering what she was going to do with him.

  “It’s your own fault,” Sal accused, trying without success to banish a wicked grin.

  “My fault?” Annie said angrily, giving him another whack. “Why is it my fault that you’re behaving like a lunatic?”

  A waiter approached, clutching his hands to his chest in dismay. “Please, please, please!” he whispered. “We’re not accustomed to scenes here. You must lower your voices or I’ll have to ask you to leave. You’re disturbing the other diners.” He glanced quickly around the room, wringing his hands.

  “I’m sorry,” Annie said contritely, glaring at Sal and feeling acute embarrassment.

  “If you would have let me check this guy out, none of this would have happened,” Sal murmured, leaning close so only she could hear him. “I don’t know a thing about this guy, and what I do know, I don’t like.”

  “Sal, you don’t have to like him,” she defended hotly. “You’re not dating him, I am.”

  Annie stared at him, not sure whether she should be touched by his concern or furious over his behavior. What on earth was she going to do with him?

  Why was he acting like this? For a moment she almost believed he was jealous. But Annie quickly dismissed the idea. Sal, jealous? The idea was almost ludicrous.

  She’d seen the parade of women that filtered in and out of his life. He wasn’t known as Smooth, Suave Sal for nothing. The women Sal chose to spend his time with usually bore little or no resemblance to her or her type.

  No, the women Sal was attracted to were usually buxom blondes with names like Bambi, Bobbi, Wendi or Suzi. Most had an easier time putting on their lipstick than carrying on an intelligent conversation. So the idea that Sal was jealous was foolish. Overprotective, maybe, but jealous, no.

  She knew exactly what Sal was—a man who loved women and his freedom, and not necessarily in that order. He wasn’t about to settle down to domestic life, or be satisfied with just one woman when he could have them all…

  Sal jealous of David? Annie shook her head. Sal behaving like some medieval knight? If she didn’t know better, she would think he was trying to protect her virtue! Next he would probably order her a chastity belt!

  “Sal, please go home.” She remembered to lower her voice as the waiter approached, followed by David, who looked mad enough to spit nickels. “Here comes David,” Annie announced. “Now I want you to leave.”

  The waiter hovered closely, watching as Sal and David stood toe to toe, glaring at each other. “I’m sorry, Mr. Donaldson, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you and your party to leave. This establishment is not accustomed to this type of behavior.”

  Annie dropped her head. Cow cakes! In all her life she’d never been thrown out of a restaurant.

  “We were just leaving, anyway,” David said, deliberately ignoring Sal. “It’s getting rather late—”

  “Must be all of nine-thirty,” Sal quipped, and Annie shot him a fierce glance.

  “Why don’t I take you home, Ann?” David glanced at Sal. “We can do this again another night.”

  Don’t bet your tassels on it, Sal thought, following David as he slid his arm around Annie and led her toward the door. Sal kept a respectable distance behind them, following David’s zippy little import all the way to Annie’s door.

  Whistling softly, Sal stepped from his car and headed up the walk. He shrugged his jacket off and sat down on the steps. Annie was still sitting in the car with David. If David ever showed his face around Annie again, the man was far braver than Sal had given him credit for. But if he did, Sal intended to be right on his heels. Give the lady what she wants, indeed!

  Sal was certain he could handle Dancing David, but Annie—now there was a problem. He had no doubt she was furious at him for his behavior. And, furious or not, he’d accomplished his mission. But how on earth was he ever going to explain his actions to Annie?

  He didn’t know, but he sure as hell was going to try. Sal dragged a hand through his hair. Despite the fact that Annie was alone and free—physically, emotionally and legally—Sal knew what he was feeling wasn’t right. She was his best friend’s widow, for God’s sake.

  Sal stood as Annie climbed out of David’s car. The moonlight danced off her delicate features, catching the gleam in her eye. A murderous gleam, Sal thought, watching her stomp up the stairs. He sure hoped he could talk his way out of this.

  “Did you have a nice time?” he inquired by way of opening.

  Annie stopped dead in front of him. “No, I did not,” she snapped, wondering where he got his gall.

  “Are you mad at me, Annie?” he inquired again unnecessarily. She glared at him.

  “Why on earth should I be mad?” Annie cried, trying without success not to raise her voice. “Just because you’ve ruined my date and my evening, not to mention the fact that you’ve insulted a very nice man for no apparent reason, now why would I be mad?”

  Sal bent down and pressed his amused face close to hers. “I guess you are mad, huh?”

  “Agguh!” Annie growled. “I have never been so embarrassed in my life!” she fumed.

  “Yes, you were; remember the time—” The look she flashed him stopped him cold. He decided to try a different tactic. “I could sure use a nightcap,” he suggested.

  “I’ll give you a nightcap,” Annie muttered.

  Sal dropped his hand to her arm and Annie came to an abrupt halt. For a moment she simply stared at his hand, stun
ned at the power of one small limb to evoke so many feelings.

  She was absolutely furious at Sal, livid in fact. But the warmth swamping through her had nothing to do with her temper.

  Annie blinked, her eyes assessing his hand. Sal had nice hands, she thought absently. Large and well formed, with a light dusting of dark, curly hair. It wasn’t the appearance of his hand that was affecting her, but his…touch.

  Stunned, Annie lifted her eyes to his. His were dark, unreadable. Sal fastened his gaze on her lips and Annie silently sucked in her breath as her pulse fluttered wildly.

  “Annie?” Her name was a whispery sigh, floating away on the faint summer breeze. As if drawn by a magnet, Annie lifted her eyes, then slowly looked at the softness of his mouth. Fascinated by the sensuous fullness of his lips, Annie moistened her own parched lips, wondering why she was suddenly feeling so off kilter. It had to be her anger.

  Sal stepped down one step, and Annie arched her neck to meet his gaze. She tried to take a step back, but he tightened his fingers on her arm, preventing her from moving.

  Her senses grew acute in the encompassing darkness. She could hear every intake of her breath, raspy as it was. Annie could feel the faint breeze dance across her face, washing her in Sal’s fragrant, familiar scent. She could see the uncertainty in his eyes as they found hers.

  Something was happening between them, something she wasn’t sure she could name. All she knew was that it was powerful…and frightening.

  “Sal, I’d better go—”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, lifting a hand to brush a curl off her cheek. His touch burned her skin. “I’m sorry I ruined your evening,” he lied, and Annie smiled glumly.

  “No, you’re not,” she returned. Sal chuckled softly and took another step closer. Unconsciously Annie stepped back.

  “You’re right,” he whispered. “I’m not sorry.” Stunned, she looked up at him with wide, luminous eyes.

  The urge to see if Annie tasted as sweet as she looked engulfed him. Sal didn’t even try to hide his feelings. He wanted to kiss Annie, and he didn’t know why. All he knew was that he’d never wanted anything more, and Sal Giordiano always got what he wanted.