by CJ Andrews
“Wake up, London,” Nico teased when he returned a moment later. He joined me by the arched stone entry to the dining area and extended his arm. “Shall we?”
As he to led me to our table, my gaze darted around the room. It hadn’t occurred to me before that someone might see us and get the wrong impression. Sure, Peter would back me up if Will were to question me about it, but I’d prefer to avoid an uncomfortable situation. Especially with the way things were between us lately.
A group of female guests watched us cross the room, reminding me of the attention Nico garnered making his entrance at Elevations on New Year’s Eve.
I cast a sideways glance at the gorgeous man next to me and tried to ignore the knot in my stomach. “So, do women fall all over you everywhere you go?”
He moved closer, fixing me with a mischievous smile. “What can I say? It’s a curse.” He laughed and bumped his shoulder against mine.
Images of the women I’d seen throw themselves at Nico crowded my mind, and the knot in my stomach pulled tighter.
He directed me to a table tucked in the back corner near the kitchen, pulled out my chair, then took his seat across from me. Without saying a word, he studied me briefly, brushing his thumb along his lips. His eyes locked on mine as he leaned forward, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
What? “Of course not.” My cheeks grew warm, and I gained a new appreciation for the dim lighting in restaurants. I tore my eyes away from his to take in my surroundings, focus on anything other than him.
A privacy wall isolated us from most of the restaurant, except for a small, unoccupied bar directly ahead of me. This eased my concerns of being discovered, but it did little to help with my effort to avoid facing him.
A bottle of wine and plates of bruschetta and caprese salad filled the center of our table, an arrogant display of his confidence that he wouldn’t be dining alone. Was I that weak and predictable, or was he just used to women always caving in to him?
Before I had a chance to question him, the waiter appeared. He introduced himself, opened my napkin, and placed it on my lap. After taking our orders, he served the wine then disappeared toward the kitchen.
“Here’s to new friends and second chances.” Nico tapped the rim of his glass to mine before taking a drink.
Not wanting to be rude, I followed his lead and took a tentative sip of wine, which turned into downing half my glass. If Nico noticed, he didn’t let on.
“I hope you’re hungry.” He motioned to the plates before taking a hearty bite of bruschetta.
I rearranged my place setting and smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles in the linen tablecloth. The weight of Nico’s stare grew uncomfortable as I slid my fingers along the stem of my glass.
“You’re quiet,” he said.
I lifted my eyes to meet his. “You brought me here to apologize, grovel, and beg for my forgiveness, if I remember correctly. I’m not the one who should be talking.”
He rubbed the stubble along his jaw. “Fair enough.” After blowing out a slow breath, he leaned toward me, resting his forearms on the table. “Look, Danni. The other night—I don’t know what got into me, but I promise it won’t happen again. My parents raised me to be a gentleman, and I hope you’ll give me a chance to show you that’s who I really am.”
I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. “That’s it? You didn’t need to drag me across town for that. Hell, you could have even sent it in an e-mail. A very short e-mail.”
He groaned and leaned back in his chair, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”
“Why should I? You knew I was married, but that didn’t stop you from coming on to me.”
He leaned forward again, his eyes reaching into my soul. After a quick glance around the room, he continued in a hushed, sultry tone. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but the way I remember it, you kissed me. I was just out having a few drinks and a little fun.”
“Right, you were just an innocent victim. Well, I guess that explains the huge erection that kept pushing against me, so don’t go acting—what?” The mischievous sparkle in his eyes distracted me.
“Nothing.” He gave a low chuckle. “I’m just glad you were impressed.”
I let out a frustrated groan as I realized what I’d said. When would I learn to keep my mouth shut? I narrowed my eyes and struggled to make my voice stern. “This isn’t funny.”
His lips pressed together and managed to contain his playful grin, but the sparkle in his eyes remained. He held up his hands. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I acted like a jerk Friday night.”
“No argument from me.” I crossed my arms and continued to stare at him, choosing to ignore the surge of energy that shot through my body when his gaze flashed to my chest.
“Logan likes to hang out at Metro Sky when he’s in town. I’d never seen you there before. Didn’t expect to see you there that night. And I’d already had a few drinks.” He hesitated, massaging his palms. “I let things get out of hand, and I’m sorry. Not about the way I feel about you, but for the way I acted and for hurting you. I want you to—” Nico looked toward the kitchen then straightened in his seat. “We’ll finish this later.”
He pushed to his feet as a man wearing a black chef’s coat approached our table. He was a few pounds heavier than Nico and had graying hair, but the resemblance was clear.
“Papa.”
The older man’s face lit up, and he extended his arms, pulling Nico into his embrace. “It’s about time you show up.” He laughed and took hold of Nico’s head to place a kiss on each cheek. “How’s my boy?”
“Good as always. This is my friend Danielle.” Nico looked at me with a warm smile. “And this is my father, Angelo.”
Angelo looked between Nico and me with a doubtful expression. “Friend. Hmm . . . if you say so.” He pulled me from my seat and greeted me with the same type of enthusiastic hug he’d given Nico.
“Danni here is a big fan of your restaurant.”
“She has good taste. I like her already.” Angelo laughed, squeezing me again.
As soon as he released me, I returned to my seat and allowed the two men to chat. I picked at my salad while sipping my wine, enjoying the animated way they spoke, joking and laughing. The obvious depth of Nico’s love and respect for his father warmed my heart. Theirs was the type of relationship I’d imagined having with my parents and always dreamed I would’ve had with my children.
After a few minutes, Angelo draped an arm across my shoulders. “Danni, it’s so nice to meet you. You make sure Nico brings you around again soon.”
“The pleasure was all mine, and thank you. I’d like that.”
Angelo placed his hands on Nico’s shoulders and looked into his son’s eyes. He tipped his head toward me. “You be a good boy, yes?” He gave Nico an affectionate tap on his cheek then walked back toward the kitchen, waving as he went. “Ciao.”
Nico laughed, shaking his head. “Friend, Papa,” he called after his father, the smile never leaving his face.
As Nico settled back into his seat, the waiter returned with our entrees. He topped off our wine glasses and made sure we had everything we needed before leaving us to enjoy our meal.
“So is your mother here too?” I glanced toward the kitchen, trying to imagine what she looked like.
Nico hesitated then shook his head. He kept his gaze fixed on the table as he spoke in a tender voice. “She’s gone. Ten years now.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
He lifted his eyes to meet mine and gave a faint smile. “How would you? She was the heart and soul of our family, and so beautiful—dark wavy hair, warm brown eyes, and always smiling. Except for when she was yelling at Ben or me for getting into trouble, of course . . . mostly Ben.”
“Of course.”
“Gabriela’s the one who keeps everything together now—at Elevations, here, and with the family. She
likes to think she keeps Ben and me in line too.” He gave an affectionate laugh. “We just don’t tell her half the crazy shit we’ve done over the years.” Nico picked up his fork then pointed to my plate. “You better eat up, or Papa’s gonna think I lied to him.”
I followed his orders, pausing with the fork at my lips. “Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble, would we?” After just one bite of eggplant piccata, I closed my eyes and let out a satisfied hum.
“That good, huh?” He laughed low and reached for his wine.
I shrugged. “Sorry. It’s been a while. Will and I used to come here a lot, but we haven’t gone out much lately.”
A crease formed in his forehead, and he studied me for a moment.
“I’m afraid to ask, but what’s wrong?” I took a large sip of wine and another bite of my meal.
“I have an idea, but hear me out before you say anything. Okay?” He raised his brows as though expecting an argument.
I nodded.
“My parents’ restaurant, this one, is really the second Giardano’s Ristorante. The original is at Elevations—Lorena’s, named after my grandmother. The menus are the same, for the most part, and the food’s just as good. If you don’t already have plans for Valentine’s Day, you and your husband should go there. We’re having a guest chef from Italy all month, a childhood friend of my father’s, and the club will be open for dancing.”
“That sounds perfect, but I—”
“It’s the least I can do after ruining your night out on Friday. And, of course, I’ll be there to make sure you get the full VIP treatment. All you need to do is pick a time and enjoy yourselves. I’ll take care of everything else.”
Nico hovering over a romantic evening with Will . . . doesn’t that sound like a recipe for disaster?
“I don’t know. It’s—Will may have something planned already. He likes to surprise me. But sure, okay. It sounds like fun, so I’ll see if he’d like to go.” Nico didn’t need to know I had no intention of mentioning his ridiculous idea to Will. Or that I doubted Will even realized it would soon be Valentine’s Day. “Thank you.”
Nico did most of the talking as we finished our meal, entertaining me with stories of unusual guests they’d had at Elevations over the years. I would have been content to only listen to him, but he always managed to pull me into the conversation.
He drank the last of his wine then stared at the empty glass. “I’m really glad you came.” He lowered the glass and focused his attention on me. “I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed someone’s company this much.”
I didn’t want to admit how much I’d enjoyed myself, despite a few tense or awkward moments. Talking with Nico was easy. Natural. And I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed so much. “Lunch was delicious. Thank you. But . . .”
Nico nodded. “I know.”
He stood and led us back through the restaurant. While he retrieved our coats, I dug my phone out of my bag and found the number for the local taxi service. I didn’t think I could handle a repeat of the sensory overload I’d experienced on the way here. I moved toward the vestibule to place my call.
“Where are you going?” Nico held up my coat for me.
“I’m fine with waiting for a cab. You go ahead.”
He stepped in front of me, shaking his head. “That’s not the way I do things. I brought you here. I’m taking you back to your office.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “And I promise to drive the speed limit and stay in one lane . . . and not just because I’ll get to spend more time with you that way.”
I turned my head, unable to resist the playful gleam in his eyes.
He leaned to the side, putting himself back in my line of vision, a full-blown dimpled smile in place. “Come on. You know you want to.”
I exhaled slowly, weighing my options. “Fine, but only because it makes the most sense and will get me back to work quicker.”
He held my coat up again, and this time I stepped into it.
As he lowered it onto my shoulders, his lips brushed against my hair. “Thank you.”
I followed Nico in silence through the parking lot, concerned by my inability to say no to him.
He helped me into the car before going around to the driver’s side and grabbing a folder from behind his seat. “The file for Mr. Jamison,” he said as he got in and handed it to me.
My stomach lurched. I’d forgotten all about the excuse he’d given Peter for my extended lunch break. “But we didn’t—”
“Everything’s in order. My assistant took care of it, but Peter doesn’t need to know that.”
I stared at the folder in my hand as if it were a test I hadn’t studied for. “What if he asks me about it? Is there anything I need to know? What if he knows I’m lying and this wasn’t a business lunch?”
Nico started the engine then reached over to touch my arm. “Hey, relax. First of all, you have time to look over everything while I drive. And second, this was a business lunch. We had important personal business to tend to.” He twisted in his seat to face me. “Before we head back, I want to finish our discussion that got interrupted.” He took a deep breath. “There’s something about you, an attraction that I can’t explain. But it’s impossible to ignore.”
My breath hitched as he described the way I felt about him. I lowered my head, certain my eyes would give me away. “I’m married.”
Nico held his index finger in front of my lips. “Shhh . . . let me finish, please.” His voice remained gentle. “I know you’re married, and that’s a commitment, a promise to love someone forever. I’m not asking you to break that—I don’t want you to break that.”
I risked looking at him again. “Well that’s good, because—”
An amused grin stretched across his face. “You really can’t stop talking, can you?”
The laughter in his voice made the words harmless. I narrowed my eyes, pretending to glare at him, which only made him laugh more.
“You’re so damn cute.” He shook his head. “Let me try again. Friends, Danni. I know that’s all you can give me, and I’m not asking for more. So . . . what do you say? Am I forgiven?”
My grip on the folder tightened, causing it to bend. I wasn’t sure I trusted either of us to settle for being only friends. I could lie to him, tell him I didn’t want anything from him, but I worried only the truth would come out if I attempted to speak.
He let out a sigh as he faced forward and shifted the car into gear. “Let’s get you back to work.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Breaking the Silence
Between Will’s long work hours and my self-imposed early bedtime, we’d managed to avoid each other for three days . . . four days if you counted dinner tonight.
You’d think we’d have plenty to say after not seeing or talking to each other all that time, but you’d be wrong. I asked questions about his week and managed to extract a few details about the project he’d spent those late nights working on. After a few minutes, I lost interest in forcing a conversation and settled for interminable silence.
As soon as Will finished his meal, he escaped to the family room. While he lounged on the couch, tapping away on his laptop and watching ESPN, I cleaned up the kitchen. The two rooms were only separated by a breakfast bar, but it might as well have been a brick wall.
I'd had plenty of time alone this week. Time spent thinking about the two men playing tug-of-war with my heart. Comparing them—the way they treated me and the way they made me feel. The only thing I’d managed to figure out was that I was still confused.
I stacked the last of our dinner plates in the dishwasher and gave the door a fierce shove, cringing at the rattling noise of toppled glasses. A frustrated growl rumbled through me. I needed to find a better outlet for my pent-up frustration.
Kendra always raved about the calming effects of her regular workouts, even though I believed her adventurous sex life deserved the credit. Maybe I should give the gym another shot. And if I accidentally b
umped into Nico there, well . . . I smiled, imagining him flirting with me while his skillful hands guided my body through the exercises. Probably not a good idea.
I lifted my hair from my neck and blotted at the dampness. A shower. That would calm me and help clear my head.
A little wine wouldn’t hurt either. I grabbed a bottle of my favorite moscato and filled my glass. On my way to the stairs, I passed in front of the couch, apparently invisible.
I retraced my steps and stopped in front of Will, desperate for him to show a little interest in me. A warm tingle grew in my chest, foolish hope springing to life yet again. Maybe he just needed a nudge. I could invite him to join me. Unbuttoning my blouse, I let it slip from one shoulder.
“Hey, babe. While you’re standing there, would you mind grabbing the remote for me?”
I practically dropped my glass. Following his line of vision, I discovered the remote control perched on the arm of the chair a few feet away. You have got to be freakin’ kidding me. My teeth ached as my jaw clenched to hold the words inside. I didn’t have the energy for another argument, and I wasn’t sure I even cared anymore.
“Here you go.” Bastard. I managed to keep my voice sweet and tossed the remote next to him on the couch with a little more force than necessary. Not nearly as much as I’d have liked to use, but fear of damaging the innocent laptop prevented me from pegging the damn thing at his chest. It bounced on the cushion, landing just beyond his reach. A small consolation, but I’d take what I could get. “I’m going for a shower.”
“What the hell was that about? Danielle?”
I climbed the stairs, ignoring his shouts. Once inside our bedroom, I closed and locked the door then let out a frustrated groan. I downed most of my wine by the time I reached the bathroom and wished I’d thought to bring the bottle.
Some women liked to soak in a tub full of bubbles to unwind, but I preferred a long, hot shower. Therapeutic steam pervaded the room in a matter of minutes. Each deep, calming breath I drew filled my lungs with the soothing effect of the warm, moist air. I opened the shower door and stepped inside, humming as the water pulsated against my skin. It eased my tension. Allowed me to relax. To think.