by Joanne Rock
He wanted to inhale her like a breath of fresh air. Take her deep inside him and hold her there.
He'd never met a woman who made him question his path for a moment, but Christine Chandler and her hidden romantic streak made him think about what he'd want from life after racing.
If he ever quit racing, that is.
And as she tugged him toward the house with her slender arms and the powerful lure of her kiss, Vito acknowledged that what he wanted one day in some misty, far-off future was a woman just like this. A woman who wasn't afraid to be romantic and passionate and honest with her feelings.
And maybe he'd never understood what he wanted because he'd never met anyone who harbored all those things inside. And although he wasn't ready to quit racing yet—hell, even if he was, he didn't have a clue what else he'd do for a living—kissing Christine made him realize he wanted this forever someday.
Feet following hers toward the back door, he kept her locked against him all the way across the darkened yard now that night had fallen and Mrs. K. had disappeared inside her house with his uncle. Fingers already straying beneath the hem of her shirt, he traced a path up along the curve of her waist. Her breath hitched as she caught his shoulders, squeezed him more tightly to her.
He wasn't wasting another minute of having her alone and he'd be damned if he'd waste another second of this incredible summer. And who knows? Since she didn't want men in her five-year plan anyhow, maybe she'd still be around Miami by the time he figured out what to do after his racing career.
Although right now he could only seem to think about getting her inside the house. In his bed. And very naked.
Heat streamed through his veins at the feel of her hips swaying against his as she walked. Ready for more, he reached for the door to the house.
Just as the glare from a pair of headlights flashed across their bodies.
"What the hell?" Against his will, Vito broke their kiss and squinted into the light as a car pulled into their driveway.
"Maybe it's someone turning around," Christine offered, her arms still wrapped around his neck, her heart hammering his chest almost as much as his own.
He wanted her to be right, prayed she was right. Too bad the driver cut the engine and the lights at that moment.
Vito swallowed a curse as the car door slammed and a sunny feminine voice echoed across the lawn.
"Call me crazy, but I decided to trek halfway around the world to see this landscaping job for myself." The figure of his sister became visible as she made her way up the drive. "Better cue up 'Here Comes the Bride,' big brother. I'm home!"
* * *
11
« ^ »
It was impossible not to like Giselle Cesare, Christine finally admitted to herself four days later as she finished watering the new annuals she'd planted around the old oak bearing the tire swing.
"We've got to leave in ten minutes to get ready for the bachelorette party, Christine," Giselle shouted to her out the kitchen window, her throaty voice carrying over the soft sprinkle of water all around Christine. "And bachelorettes aren't allowed to have any dirt under their nails."
Christine nodded and smiled and continued to water the flowers, knowing damn well that by the time she went with Vito's sister and her friends to the myriad of salon and spa appointments they had planned today, there was no way she'd have a speck of dirt on her bod.
In the course of the four days Giselle had been back, the fiery Italian chef had moved back into her childhood home in the room between Christine and Vito; effectively halting any chance for covert liaisons with Vito. Because Giselle's fiancé needed to stay overseas for a few more days, Vito's sister had wanted to stay in the house instead of the hotel she owned.
Made total sense, even if it did stall Christine's fling in its tracks.
But as if that hadn't been bad enough, Giselle had commandeered Christine to help her shop for a trousseau, to visit Mrs. K. and review the plans for a wedding cake, to visit the church where the ceremony would take place and to help plan the bachelorette party with a few other girlfriends. But if Christine had been startled at being swept up into bridal plans when she barely knew the bride, Giselle had quickly amended that by appointing herself Christine's new best friend the moment she arrived and broke up the kiss Christine still replayed in her head on a daily—okay, hourly—basis.
Shutting down the sprinkler system, she now headed inside to shower before the spa day preceding the bachelorette party. Coordinated in conjunction with the bachelor party, tonight's event was scheduled to take place at the exotic resort Giselle owned along with a handful of business partners. The idea was that the partying bachelorettes would be able occasionally to check in on the partying bachelors next door. Giselle had hinted there might be some pairing off for a few sexy games she had in mind, but Christine had been too careful about her relationship with Vito to express any more than passing interest in this facet of the night.
Although Giselle had seemed more than willing to talk about her brother, Christine remained determined not to pump her new friend for information about him.
She was only having a fling after all, and she would do well to remember her commitment to being a footloose bachelorette. Besides, the more she knew about Vito, the more she liked him. No need to tread on dangerous terrain.
Still, considering she'd seen little of Vito for over a week now since the out-of-town company started arriving, she had to admit she was looking forward to any game that would put her within liplock range of Vito Cesare.
Maybe at a resort renowned for its sensual atmosphere they would have better luck finding places to tryst than they'd had here.
"Are you ready?" Giselle called into her room just as Christine finished dressing in a T-shirt and shorts.
"All set." She grabbed her bag with her dress for the party tonight, a sexy-as-hell midnight-blue number that she'd picked up on impulse while on one of Giselle's mandatory shopping outings this week.
"My brother's going to totally lose his mind when he sees you in that dress." Giselle moved through the house jingling the keys to her rental car and picking up stray bags on the way as she tugged a small suitcase on wheels behind her. Since her fiancé was due back in town tonight for the party, Giselle would be spending the night with him at Club Paradise and had generously offered rooms to her guests, as well.
"You think?" Christine pulled open the front door for her and stole a big pink pastry box out of Giselle's arms.
Whatever was inside smelled like ginger and vanilla and made her mouth water. "I half wonder if he's already left for Europe in his mind since he's hardly ever here lately."
Shoot. Had she said that? A brainless comment for a woman vowing to keep her relationship light and easy. But Vito seemed to have made himself scarce since Giselle had returned. Even when he was in the house he seemed glued to his computer or entrenched in phone calls conducted in another language.
Not only had she realized that he spoke several tongues fluently in the past few days, she had also learned he had plenty going on in his life besides her. The knowledge stung more than she would ever admit, but it strengthened her resolve not to swoon at his feet when she saw him in a tuxedo at the front of a church in a few days' time.
This man would never be content to remain in Miami forever.
"Not a chance. He's only avoiding you because I'm around. For some ridiculous reason, my brothers still think that because I'm their innocent baby sister, I shouldn't ever be aware of their raging libidos." She rolled her eyes as she unlocked the trunk of the sporty convertible. "As if. I don't think they realize that trying not to think about sex only makes you think about it more."
Grateful for the excuse of loading their gear into the car, Christine tried to think of an appropriate comeback to haul ass out of this conversation. Obviously Giselle was fishing for information about their relationship. Either that or she was trying to give the green light for Christine and Vito to do whatever the hell they wanted to
in the house.
Either way, Christine couldn't staunch a twinge of envy for this woman who seemed to have found love and romance along with great sex in her journalist husband Hugh Duncan. Christine had always dreamed about the love and romance part, but after knowing Vito, she couldn't imagine falling in love without the great sex element in place, too.
For that matter, she couldn't even fathom hot and heavy relations with anyone but Vito Cesare. A matter sure to cause an impediment to any future relationships.
"Cat got your tongue on that note, didn't it?" Giselle giggled as she slammed the truck closed and unlocked the car. "Sorry about that. Have you discovered yet that members of my family are apt to say whatever happens to be on their minds? Although I guess Vito is probably the most diplomatic of any of us."
They slid into the car and Christine thought there were worse traits in the world than speaking your mind. Like hiding the truth, for instance. Vito might not be a candidate for love and romance because of his far-flung racing commitments and his unwillingness to let anyone get too close, but at least he would be straight with her.
"I've always appreciated people who are straightforward." Staring out at the occasional glimpses of the Atlantic on their drive toward South Beach, Christine knew she was going to miss Vito and all his exuberant, outspoken relatives when she was finished with this job. In her quest to be independent from her own family, she'd unwittingly pushed her brothers away ever since she'd struck out on her own to go to school in California. Not until now did she realize how much she missed the camaraderie of family. People to watch your back. "That goes for you and your brother both."
"He belongs here, you know." Giselle tapped the steering wheel with a bare fingernail as she pulled onto a causeway toward the beach. "And I know that's unsolicited information, but I feel compelled to point it out to you in case it isn't obvious. I saw him at a couple of his races earlier this summer and he didn't seem up for partying afterward at any of the glitzy events they hold for the drivers. I think he's already squeezed all the fun he's going to out of that career."
Christine cursed her heart for picking up speed at that particular insight. Why should she care?
Of course, her ever-helpful romantic wishful thinking was quick to pipe up that maybe if he would be willing to settle in Miami again, they could follow this fling and see if it led to something real, something far more satisfying…
"He's told me he loves his career." Hadn't he? Or maybe she just guessed as much by the way he treated his Ferrari like an adored offspring. "And while I understand your family's efforts to persuade him to settle down, I can assure you, he has no desire to do anything like that with me." So there.
The smart and streetwise angel on one shoulder stuck her tongue out at the scheming romantic devil perpetually perched on her other one.
"Are you sure about that?" Giselle switched off the car in front of a valet dressed in khakis and a T-shirt proclaiming Club Paradise on the pocket. Turning to stare at Christine while the valet awaited her keys, Giselle gave her a level look. "Because I can tell you right now the consensus of three generations of romantic-minded Cesares and Donzinettis is that Vito is crazy about you whether he kisses you in front of us or not. So please don't hold back on our account, Christine, because we're all rooting for you."
Surprise glued her to her seat for a long moment after Giselle made her transaction with the valet. They were rooting for her? This big, ever-growing group of endless friends and relatives?
The notion would have made her smile if she hadn't been overwhelmed by that level of expectation. What if she didn't want Vito in her life forever?
Liar. Liar. Liar.
She couldn't deny that part of her already did.
As she slid out of the car at the resort, Christine moved to help Giselle carry in the bags the valet pulled out of the trunk.
Giselle winked at her as she handed Christine the pink box containing some hidden delicious treat.
"If, on the other hand, you're out to break my brother's heart—" She paused for a moment, perhaps waiting for Christine to conjure the worse retribution possible on her own. "We'd all be really disappointed."
Far from being put off by the word of warning, Christine couldn't help but think she never would have let Rafe pull the wool over her eyes if she'd had a sister like Giselle.
Vito was damn lucky to have a family like this.
It was a shame Christine wouldn't be making the big play for him that they wanted. She would respect his wishes and let him go when the time came.
But for tonight, he wouldn't be able to escape her in the man-magnet dress she'd bought for the occasion.
"I can't tell you what the future will bring, Giselle." Christine hurried to keep pace with Vito's sister as she plowed through the doors to Club Paradise. "But I can tell you that for tonight at least, he's all mine."
* * *
Vito had been to a few bachelor parties in his time, but he didn't think any of his prior groom send-offs had focused so completely on sex.
Head in his hands, he slumped over a cocktail table in the corner of the Moulin Rouge lounge where the bachelor and bachelorette parties were simultaneously taking place. The bar inside Club Paradise was closed to the public tonight, but since Giselle co-owned the resort with three other women, who were all in attendance, she'd been able to reserve the place exclusively for the rowdy crew of bachelors and bachelorettes. Their parties divided only by freestanding Chinese silk screens down the middle of the bar, and Vito caught plenty of glimpses of Christine having a good time with his sister's friends and family on other side of the partitions.
And of course, Giselle's friends had purposely baited the men with their antics to encourage plenty of heads peeking around the dividers. First they'd hosted an informal lingerie party and paraded around their side of the club in naughty negligees.
Then there'd been the noisy striptease lesson given to all the females by a South Beach pro. When Vito had leaned over the screen to complain about the lack of appropriateness of strip lessons at a party where two of his eighty-year-old great-aunts were in attendance, he'd discovered Aunt Livia and Aunt Rosella engaged in full-on rump-shaking beside their stripper teacher.
The sight had sent him back to his own party, determined to hold his peace. But not before he'd spied Christine clutching a slick silver dance pole and practicing her high kicks.
Who the hell could party with the guys when he had a vision of Christine's sleek thigh bared by a generous slit in her midnight-blue dress burned in the back of his retinas?
"Come on, Vito." His brother Nico nudged him in the arm as the rest of the guys let out a loud whoop of appreciation for something in the front of the room. "You're gonna miss the best part if you don't snap out of it."
"Is it just me, or is this completely twisted to be right next to our baby sister talking about sex with all her friends?" Vito grumbled as he rose to join everyone else. "What happened to bachelor parties where all the guys got hammered in some crappy dive bar and threw darts until the designated driver carted everyone home?"
Not that getting hammered sounded particularly fun either, but at least then he wouldn't be stuck listening for hints of Christine's voice in the swirl of raucous chatter on the other side of the silk screens. Or straining his eyes for another glimpse of her through a gap in the partition he just happened to sit near.
"Since when do you like playing darts?" Nico did a double take as he noticed the partition gap. Lingering near the screen, he stared through the wall toward Giselle's party. "Remember that Christmas when Marco was thirteen and he wanted a darts set? You lectured him for two months on the dangers of darts and then— Hello, beautiful."
Vito blinked, knowing damn well the brother closest to his own age wasn't talking to him anymore. "What?"
"I'm checking out my fiancée." Nico's eyes never swerved from their target. Apparently he'd gotten an eyeful of his power executive future wife, Lainie Reynolds. "I was hoping she
'd let her hair down tonight and have fun, and there she is, chugging down a martini like it was soda pop." He spied for another moment before straightening. "She usually works too damn hard. It's good for her to have fun."
"I'm sure you'll be a positive influence in that arena." Vito grinned, thinking about how Nico had managed to devote his whole life to playing games. First as an NHL goalie with the Florida Panthers and now as a hockey coach who also ran training camps for peewee players. "Have you taken her skating yet?"
"She hates the helmet I make her wear, but she's got real aptitude. Not to mention killer instincts. She can cross-check with the best of them."
Vito's gaze darted back to the partition again, wondering where Christine had gone. "You're lucky you found someone to put up with you, bro. I'm happy for you."
"I highly recommend hooking up on a permanent basis. Dating is for suckers." Nico dragged him toward the front of the bar where the guys were all gathered around a table and a few people were—taking the partitions down?
His night was beginning to look up. Maybe he could find Christine and kidnap her from the party. Steal a few minutes alone somewhere in this huge resort. Or better yet, cart her back to his room for the night. The best part of having this shindig at Club Paradise had been that partygoers were all encouraged to spend the night, courtesy of their hostess.
"I never imagined you'd be the poster boy for long-term commitment after all the years you fielded screaming groupies in the NHL." As one of Giselle's friends carried a big pink pastry box over to the bar, Vito had to admire how far his brother had come.
"And I never imagined you wouldn't be the commitment king after all those years you spent raising a family." Nico kept his eye trained on the pastry box, already changing directions to follow the promise of food. "You were so damn good at the lectures and advice that went along with the patriarch role, we all kind of thought you liked it."