by Laura Breck
The men sat in the living room holding espresso cups. They both stood when she joined them.
“Valerie Kane, I want you to meet my brother, Dante.”
She held out her hand, and Dante took hers in both of his, holding it softly. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Valerie.”
He looked so much like Antonio, it made her smile. His accent flowed thicker than his brother’s, more European.
“Thank you, Dante. And it’s good to meet you, as well.” She looked into his eyes, the same brown as Antonio’s but with a softer, more charming expression. Dante’s shorter hair fell in soft waves, and his face was easier on the eye. Antonio’s was edgier, more angular. They shared the same big frame and defined muscles.
“Would you like an espresso, sweet?” Antonio asked her.
“No, thank you.” She gestured toward the kitchen. “I’ll deal with the breakfast dishes and let you two catch up.”
Dante gestured to the couch. “No, please, join us. My brother was just telling me about you.”
She sat next to Antonio on the couch. “All good, I hope?”
“Of course.” Antonio gestured to the side table where he’d set her plaque. “Your award last night.”
“Yes, congratulations, Valerie. An incredible accomplishment.”
She tried not to blush. “I’m still reeling from it.” She looked at Antonio. “It was an amazing evening.”
He winked at her.
Dante set his ankle on the opposite leg. “I apologize for not calling before I stopped in. He’s always been alone when I drop by.”
She smiled. It was hard to believe she was the first woman in his home.
Dante lifted a brow. “I always assumed my big brother was living a celibate life.”
Antonio laughed loudly, as if his sibling’s comment was ridiculous, then looked at her—she wasn’t laughing—and turned it into a choked clearing of his throat. He wagged one brow at his brother. “It’s no interruption. Did you just fly in this morning?”
Dante nodded then a smile curled his lips. “I did, from Los Angeles, where I bought a condo.”
“You’re moving here?” Antonio’s voice rose in excitement.
“Yes, I’ve been asked to teach.”
Valerie looked at the painting above the fireplace. “You’ll be teaching art?”
“Yes, painting, sculpting, through the museums in LA County.”
Antonio grinned. “That’s great. When?”
“I’m having the condo—well, it’s actually three condos—renovated into one huge loft. It’ll take a few months then I’ll move my Paris studio here.”
“How exciting.” Valerie couldn’t imagine being so worldly, so urbane.
“This calls for champagne.” Antonio stood. “Valerie?”
“Yes, please. That sounds lovely.”
“I’m always up for champagne.” Dante finished his coffee.
Antonio walked into the kitchen.
She smiled at Dante. “Antonio will love having you close. The two of you will be the American branch of the family.”
His eyebrow went up, reminding her so much of Antonio. “From what my brother was saying before you joined us, it sounds as though there will be three of us acting as the American branch.”
Her smile left her lips. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“He sounds rather serious about you.”
That took the breath out of her. Antonio told his brother…what? Now she did feel her face growing hot. “I don’t know what to say. He and I are really just getting to know one another.” She looked at her hand, then at the couch, then fidgeted.
“Valerie, you’re blushing like a woman in love. You might as well admit it.”
Chapter Twenty Seven
Valerie’s gaze flew to Dante’s. She heard the cork pop in the kitchen. “You like to shock people, don’t you?”
His smile lit his face, and she could tell he would be absolutely irresistible to women. He lifted that brow again. “And you don’t like to answer questions about yourself, do you?”
She’d never been confronted this way about her personal life, and it threw her off a bit. “Are you worried about Antonio or just trying to get a reaction out of me?”
“Perceptive. Antonio said you are good at your job.”
“This isn’t my job.” The words came out clipped. “This is my life.”
“Can you separate the two, especially with your profession?”
Antonio came back into the room with the champagne bottle and three glasses.
“What’s going on?” He looked from one to the other.
“She’s analyzing me,” Dante said.
“Hm. He could use some therapy,” she replied.
Antonio laughed. “Perfect. You’ve gotten to know each other, and it only took five minutes.” He poured the champagne.
She smiled, Dante winked at her, and they silently called a truce. Why did she have such a difficult time with the Daniato men? She barely knew Dante, but he would be a fascinating case study. Not as fascinating as Antonio, but she was still working on getting to the bottom of that man.
She looked at Antonio. On the balcony, he’d almost opened up to her. When would he tell her the secret he was keeping from her? His demons. She watched him talk with his brother, his face lit with pleasure. She’d witnessed his mood swings first-hand, from ecstatic to ferocious. Did he have his demons under control? Or were the demons in control of him?
****
Friday morning at ten, Monica’s phone rang. She rolled over in bed and looked at the caller ID. “Hi, Joe.”
His laughter rolled through the speaker, making her smile. “I thought it would be safe to call at ten, but evidently not.”
“Mmmm. I had an emergency last night. Didn’t get to bed until four.”
“Oh, sorry, love. I’ll make this quick.”
Her heart swelled. He’d called her love. “No need to, I can fall asleep anytime. Anywhere.”
“I know, I found that out last week. Lightweight.”
“Honey, we were very ‘active’ for four hours. A girl needs time to recover from a macho man like you.”
“God, I wish I was there right now.”
His voice sent hot flashes straight to her core. “Me too.”
She heard him breathing then he cleared his throat. “Can I see you tonight?”
She sat up in bed. “Really?”
“Mm hm. My place or yours?”
“You ask that like it’s not a four hour drive. How about my place? I have to see a patient in the hospital tomorrow and Sunday.”
“Perfect. I’ll be there this afternoon.”
“Do you have the weekend off?”
“I do. And I promise not to answer my phone after I leave the hospital today.”
“I’d love that.” She took a deep breath. “I love you.”
“Monica. You have no idea what it does to me when you say that. I love you, too.”
“See you soon.”
“Not soon enough.”
They hung up, and she snuggled back into her pillow. She never thought the long distance thing would work out so well. But with the rising cost of gas, they’d soon be broke.
As her mind drifted off to sleep, she made a mental note to call her friend at the hospital in Summerlin and ask if they needed a good E.R. doctor.
****
Joe arrived as promised that afternoon.
She’d given him the code to her gate and had told him where the hidden key to her front door was kept.
She was kneeling in the rose garden when she heard his car pull in. She stood and brushed the dirt off her legs and took off her gardening gloves. Today he drove a Porsche, a black, shiny machine with chrome tire rims. The man had flamboyant taste. What did his apartment look like? Strange, she loved this man but knew so little about him.
He was hauling a duffel bag out of his trunk when she reached him. Dropping it, he grabbed her up in his arms. “Love.”
He pulled back an inch. “Can we go in the house?” It came out a growl.
She fisted her hands on his shirt. “Yes, right now.”
He stepped back and handed her his duffle bag.
She took it. “So now I’m your valet?”
He turned her toward the house and patted her bottom. “I’ve got groceries to bring in. Go.”
“Oooh, you’ve brought food? What’s the occasion?” She opened the front door and held it for him as he carried a large box inside.
“I’m going to cook for you. All weekend. We’re not going to leave this house for anything.”
She smiled and shut the door behind them. “You are my fantasy come true, Dr. Pappa.”
He set the bags down, took his duffel from her, and picked her up in his arms. “Love, I’ve been fantasizing about this moment for a week.”
He carried her into the bedroom, and they emerged a half hour later only to put the groceries away and pull his car into the garage. They ate a quick appetizer and slammed down a cocktail then she led him back to bed for the evening.
Late that night, he cooked them a fabulous pecan-crusted salmon with garlic mashed potatoes and fresh green beans. They sat on her back patio, overlooking the pool and spa.
When they finished eating, he pulled out his wallet and opened it. “Got a surprise for you.”
“A Nevada driver’s license?” She was joking, but he stopped dead and fixed a pointed stare at her.
“Meaning?”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I thought you might be thinking of moving…”
He folded his wallet and set it on the table. She could see the tension around his lips. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”
Damn if he didn’t always know exactly what to say to confuse her. She looked down at her fork. “I don’t know what I was saying. Too much wine, I guess.” She stood and picked up her plate, but when she reached for his, he grabbed her wrist. “Monica, let’s talk.”
Her gaze flew to his. Gone was his angry tone, and in its place, she heard concern. His eyes were serious.
She set down her plate.
He turned his chair and pulled her into his lap. “We love each other.”
She nodded, for once speechless. Where was this conversation headed?
“I think we should be together.”
“We are. There’s no one else in my life.”
He cupped the nape of her neck, massaging softly. “I mean living. Living together.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “It’s a major step. One of us would have to commute four hours each way.”
He didn’t laugh at her attempted humor. “No, one of us would have to give up their practice and start a new one in another city.”
She nodded. “I have to admit, I’ve thought about it.”
He smiled. “Tell me.”
“Well, I could call a friend on the board of the hospital in Summerlin, ask if he had an opening.”
He nodded. “I’m working at one of the most prestigious hospitals in the country. Taking a position at a hospital in Las Vegas would seem an odd career choice. Wouldn’t look good on my resume.”
He was right. “You love your job, don’t you?”
His eyes glazed over, slightly. “It’s the job I’ve wanted my whole life. Since I was rushed to the E.R. as a kid with a broken femur. I remember the doctor who set my leg, I knew right then I wanted to do that—to be that doctor for other kids, for people who needed help.”
“Did you ever contact that doctor again?”
“I did.” His smile was diffident. “He became my mentor through med school and is like a second father to me.”
“Sounds like you’re living your dream.” She didn’t mean to sound jealous.
“No, love.”
She noticed the sparkle of moisture in his eyes.
“My dream would be to have you near me every day. To start a family and raise our children together. To grow old with you.” His jaw tensed. “And I don’t care where we do it, as long as you’re happy.”
Right then she committed to do anything for him—for them. She’d give up everything to be with him. That was the only important thing in her future. She swallowed the lump of emotion and smiled. “I’ve heard there are a lot of wealthy people in California who love to spend money on cosmetic surgery.”
He looked at her with love blazing in his eyes. “I’ve heard that, too.”
She touched her fingertips on the back of his neck, pulling herself closer. “And the schools in Los Angeles are excellent, I hear.”
“I hear that, too.” He stood, fitting her body along the length of his.
“Joe…” The words wouldn’t come; her feelings were too close to the surface.
“Let’s go in the house.”
She smiled, unbuttoned his shirt. “Let’s go in the pool.”
Within seconds, they were naked and jumping in the warm water. The stars overhead began spinning as he floated her on the surface and made love to her with his sweet, talented mouth. Then took her flying again as his perfect body joined with hers in the primal dance that sent them both heavenward.
Later, lying together on a chaise lounge, she asked, “You have a surprise for me?”
In the moonlight, his smile was wicked, and he prodded her leg with his hard rod. “You mean this?”
She nipped him softly on the neck. “No, that’s not a surprise any longer, I’m getting used to it being hard all the time.”
He growled at her.
“Something in your wallet?”
“Oh, that’s right. I have tickets for Sunday night to see Cẻline Dion.”
She sat up, too excited to sit still. “Really? She’s back in town? I wanted to see her show when she had her own showroom, but I never made it. I hear she’s fabulous.”
He pulled her back down, rolling so she was on top of him. “You’re fabulous.” He moved her hips so she was poised over his shaft.
“You’re darn right I am.” She slid slowly, luxuriously, onto his hard cock.
****
That evening, Valerie called Jules and set up an appointment at her design store to talk with her about some possible business. She was being sneaky, but Antonio would like her help decorating his place.
She checked her e-mails. The weekend that worked best for Sloan’s bachelorette party was in two weeks. She’d confirmed the date with Sloan and e-mailed the girls, inviting them to stay at her place for two nights.
Rubbing her hands together, she planned a weekend of good, clean dirty-girl fun: a party bus for one night to take them to dinner and a few clubs, and one of Ryan’s houseboats for the second night.
He’d offered her the big one with the hot tub, water slide and jet skis, and he volunteered to pilot the boat.
She took him up on the offer. Better than trying to maneuver the huge barge herself. And it felt safer having a man aboard.
She’d been spending too many Saturday nights alone watching horror movies.
****
Antonio rode the elevator to his condo. Three in the morning on Sunday, his muscles ached, and he had a pocket full of dirty one dollar bills. “Disgusting.” Both the cash and the addiction to the thrill that kept him from spending his weekends with the woman he loved.
Opening his mailbox, he pulled out a dozen envelopes, flipped through them, and stopped dead. Another blackmail note. In his foyer, he ripped it open, despite the warning from his private detective to be cautious.
“As agreed, your last payment will keep us from publicly revealing your weekend activities. But we’re sure you don’t want your pretty new high-class girlfriend to hear about it. Same amount, police station do
wntown.”
It went on to detail where to hide the money. He crushed the paper in his hand so hard he felt something pop. “God damn.”
No one threatened his woman. He threw the paper on the floor and walked to the kitchen. Taking the Patron Silver tequila from the cupboard, he poured a shot and slammed it, then another. It wasn’t curbing his desire to kill someone, though.
He carried the bottle and shot glass onto the balcony. A hot Vegas night, things were just getting started down on the street. He looked toward the west, toward her house. He should be there with her, protecting her. She was everything…
He slammed another shot of liquor down his throat. How had he become such a fucking rotten excuse for a man? Weak, obsessed with his own pleasure, a danger to Valerie.
Walking back into the penthouse, he put the liquor away and headed for the bedroom. Tonight. He would tell her tonight. He had no choice. Walking past the foyer, he picked up the crumpled blackmail letter and put it on the table.
He had money to cover it, but some things were more important. Self-esteem. Integrity. Love. God, how he loved her.
In his bedroom, he stripped and stepped into the shower. He would man up, do what was right. Become the person she thought he was.
****
That evening, Valerie’s pan of lasagna was done hours before the roar of Antonio’s motorcycle announced his arrival. She greeted him at the door, wearing a new sundress, excited to see if he liked it. But something was wrong.
“Hi, sweet.” Barely a smile, a quick kiss, and he walked in and plopped down on the living room couch without taking off his jacket.
She followed him. What had brought on this mood? She never saw him so down before. He looked tired, lifeless. “Can I get you something? A beer, wine? G&T?
He looked at her; his eyes were guarded. “Beer would be good. Thanks.”
She went to the kitchen and opened a beer for him and a juice for herself.
He took his jacket off when she handed him the beer, and she sat next to him.
“You look exhausted. Too much weekend?”
He glanced at her, looked away, then sat forward and set his beer down. Running his fingers through his hair, he dropped his head. Not a good sign. She sat back, sipped her juice, and waited.