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Educating Gina
Debbi Rawlins








Mike started to reach for her, mesmerized by her luscious curves and pouty lips. “Gina—”


Suddenly a key sounded in the front door.

“Madre Dio! It is my uncle!” Gina panicked. “You should not be here!” To her left was a closed door. She grabbed Mike’s sleeve and pulled him into the dark room with her. Only, it was a closet.

Mike started to protest but stopped abruptly at the sound of her uncle—his boss—calling for Gina. The closet was small and crowded and he was pressed against Gina and her tight, skimpy dress. She moved her arm and her breasts rubbed against him. At his sharp intake of breath she froze.

Mike tightened his arms around the bare skin of her back. She stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. Soft silky hair brushed his jaw, robbing him of rational thought. “What are we going to do?”

Mike wished he knew. If he weren’t so aroused maybe he could figure it out. How could he explain this to his boss? He tried to shift, but only managed to stroke her hip with his erection and press closer to her breasts.

There was nothing he could do but enjoy the delicious agony….







Dear Reader,

This book is a favorite of mine. Writing about Gina and Mike was like telling the story of two old friends. After it ended, I genuinely missed them for days. I think part of the reason I bonded so quickly with the characters is that I really identified with Gina.

Like her, I went to an all-girls Catholic high school, though in a small town in Hawaii. A grand total of one hundred and sixteen girls made up the tenth, eleventh and twelfth grades. Obviously there is some of me in Gina, although which aspects, I’m not saying. After all, my mother will be reading this book.

You all take care. And don’t forget to check out tryblaze.com!

Debbi Rawlins




Educating Gina

Debbi Rawlins







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


This is for Sue H., the real Gina.

Thanks for all your wonderful stories.

You’re a fun and gutsy lady. Have a great eightieth!




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue




1


“NICE LEGS. Is she new?”

Mike Mason shook his head in disgust. “Have you heard anything I’ve said?”

His friend and co-worker, Robert Scarpetti, kept his attention on the tall blonde at the water cooler outside Mike’s office. “Maybe she’s a sales rep for one of our distributors. I haven’t seen her before, have you?”

“Rob.”

Robert looked at Mike. “I heard every word you said. You think California wine sales are up on the West Coast because gas prices are up and it costs too much to ship our wine across the country.” His gaze went back to the young woman who’d briefly stopped at their secretary’s desk. “Good. Cori should know who she is.”

“Dammit, Rob, if you weren’t the boss’s son, your ass would be fired by now.”

Robert slid off the edge of Mike’s desk and flashed him a big grin. “Not when I have you to make me look good.”

Mike grunted. He was tired and hungry after missing another lunch hour. Normally Robert didn’t annoy him. After fifteen years of friendship, he’d learned to take the overgrown kid with a grain of salt.

They’d met during their sophomore year in high school soon after Mike’s mother had started working for the Scarpetti family. The company distributed wine in the States from their vineyard in Italy and she had been their bookkeeper. The job had been a godsend. A recent layoff had left her unemployed and penniless. Mike’s father hadn’t been in the picture for ten years, ever since the bastard had walked out on them.

“Don’t worry, bro.” Robert clapped him on the back. “I’ll talk to Pop about looking into Daly City as a possible site for a distribution center. It’s near enough to San Francisco but not so high rent that it’ll inflate Pop’s blood pressure.”

“You checked it out already?”

Robert snorted. “Hey, I’m not a total waste. Want to go have a beer?”

“It’s only four-fifteen.”

“Your point being?”

Mike rubbed his eyes and loosened his tie. “I still have another couple of hours of work to finish.”

“Damn, Mike, I wish you’d relax. This company’s been around for over a hundred years. It ain’t going anywhere.”

“Right.” Easy for Robert to say. He was a Scarpetti. Automatically entitled to a secure position in the family business.

As great as they’d all been to Mike, giving him a job, even contributing to his college education after his mother’s death, he was still not one of them. It didn’t matter how hard he worked or how many holidays he spent at their table, he would never be a part of the inner circle.

Robert and Antonio would both deny it if questioned. Not that Mike would ever broach such a subject. He was grateful to be the only non-family member in management, and he knew he had a good chance to head the West Coast operation someday. They already trusted him to handle a major part of the business.

At twenty-eight, he had no student loans to pay off, and he made a damn good salary. More than most guys his age. No question he owed them big time. But he could never shake the need to belong, to have their unconditional acceptance.

“If you change your mind about that beer, Joe and I will be down at Angelo’s.” Robert stopped at the door, checking his reflection in the glass inset, and then pulled out his comb. “But I’ll only be there until five-thirty. I’ve got a date with Melanie tonight.”

A date. Mike couldn’t remember the last time he’d had one. He’d caught a couple of movies and late dinners with Daphne from the real-estate office upstairs last year. But she thought he was too work-obsessed, and when he’d called a couple of months ago, she told him she’d be washing her hair for the next year or so.

“Count me out today.” Mike opened his middle drawer looking for chips or anything to quiet his noisy stomach. “I still have the quarterly budget to work on.”

“Screw that. Work on it tomorrow.”

Mike found an open package of cheese crackers and sniffed it. Smelled okay to him. “I want you to review the figures before you go on vacation.”

An incoherent bellow interrupted them.

Mike looked up.

“Dammit, I gotta go.” Robert threw a disgusted glance down the hall. “The old man is hollering for me. How many times have I told him to use the intercom?”

“But you’re not in your office.”

“That’s not the point.” Robert stalked off, muttering under his breath.

Mike smiled as he tore into the cheese crackers. The Scarpettis sure were a boisterous bunch, especially Antonio. He’d left Italy thirty years ago but still clung to some of the old ways, personally and in business. Good thing the company was so well established and making a lot of money. But then again, there was a downside to their fairly easy success. No one seemed particularly interested in expanding or modernizing.

Except Mike. Once he got the West Coast operation into action, he knew he could double the company’s profits. Wouldn’t that make him nice and cozy with the family?

The blonde walked past his office again, this time slowing to smile at him. He nearly choked on the stale cracker. He had to admit, she did have great legs.

Hell with it being a long time since his last date. It had been a century since he’d gotten laid.



“JEEZ, POP, that damn cigar is stinking up your whole office. Put it out.” Robert waved a hand through the smoky air. “Disgusting.”

“This is my office. I do what I like in here. Sit down.”

Robert opened his father’s window, ignoring the humid August air that rushed in. Traffic noise from the street below the three-story Brooklyn office rose to compete with their conversation.

“All right, all right,” he grumbled over the din. “I’ll put out the cigar. Now close the damn window.”

Robert gladly shut out the warm air and noise. But that was the least of the problem. His father smoked too much, ate and drank to excess and stayed out late every night, a pattern that began after Robert’s mother died last year. It worried the hell out of him.

“What did you want, Pop?” He took a chair across the old scarred desk that belonged in a junkyard.

“Your cousin Gina is coming from Italy in three days.”

“Gina?” Robert frowned. He hadn’t seen her in eight years. Not since his last trip to Tuscany. She’d happened to be home from Catholic boarding school in Milan, shy, quiet, the perfect convent-school student. “Why?” Robert couldn’t imagine his timid cousin flying across the Atlantic alone. “Not that it won’t be nice to see her, but…how old is she now?”

“Twenty-three. She’s just finished all her schooling and your aunt says she’s been a little rebellious lately.” Antonio shrugged expansively and muttered something in Italian. Robert knew only a few choice words. “You know your aunt Sophia, the drama queen.”

“Is she coming alone?”

Antonio sighed and mopped his forehead. There seemed to be more and more of it each day, and Robert shuddered at the thought his hairline would one day recede like Pop’s.

“Unfortunately, yes, and she’ll be here for a month.”

Robert started to get a bad feeling. “I still don’t understand why Gina would come here.”

“To cut loose.” Antonio waved a hand. “That’s how you say it, right? You know, get the wildness out of her system.”

“Oh, brother.”

“What’s this?” Antonio scowled. “You suddenly don’t have time for family?”

“Me?”

“Who else should I ask to escort her around the city?”

“Oh, no.” Robert abruptly stood. “I’m on vacation starting this weekend, remember? I already paid for the cruise. Two weeks. Me, Melanie, lots of sun and piña coladas. I’m not baby-sitting anyone.”

“I will reimburse you for the cruise.”

“No way.” Robert backed toward the door. “Melanie pulled a lot of strings at work to get two weeks off.”

“Roberto.” Antonio slammed his palm on the desk. “This is family. This is important.”

“I understand.” But Melanie sure wouldn’t. “I’ll only be gone two weeks. Let Mike show her around in the meantime.”

“Mike?”

Robert mirrored his father’s expansive shrug. “He’s practically family, right?”

Antonio frowned. “Practically isn’t good enough. He’s a male, and she’s a female. You do the arithmetic.”

“Yeah, but we’re talking about Mike.”

“I’m talking about hormones or testosterone, or whatever those things are.” He shook his head in that stubborn way Robert hated. It meant the subject was closed. “You will pick Gina up at the airport and stick to her like glue. End of discussion.”

“Pop, don’t make me say something I’m gonna regret.”

Antonio narrowed his dark eyes. “What?”

Panic assailed Robert. He couldn’t cancel this trip. He and Melanie had been planning it for six months. What a damn mess! “It’s about Mike.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s confidential.”

“Roberto, I remind you.” He picked up the cigar he’d put out. “You brought up the subject.”

“You can’t tell anybody, Pop, including Mike. This is a very sensitive issue.”

“All right, already.”

Robert took a deep breath. He really hated involving Mike, but what else could he do? “It’s no problem if he accompanies Gina around the city.” He cleared his throat. For this lie, he would surely go straight to hell. Not to mention Mike was going to kill him. “Mike bats for the other team.”

Antonio’s bushy brows drew together. “What are you talking about?”

“You never heard that term before, Pop?”

“I know what it means.” He looked uncertain. “It means he could be an interior decorator or something. Am I right?”

Robert choked back a laugh. “I guess you could say that.”

“But Mike? I’ve known him half his life. He’s not that way.”

“When was the last time you saw him with a girl?”

Antonio toyed with the cigar as he thought for a moment. “Last year, Thanksgiving, he brought that short redhead to dinner.”

“That was three years ago, she was his neighbor’s daughter and she was fifteen.”

Antonio frowned. “How come he doesn’t look like one of those kind?”

“Pop, don’t be so old-fashioned. He doesn’t have to look any particular way. The important thing is, he can show Gina around the city without you worrying.”

Antonio chomped on the cigar, his bushy brows drawn together as he thought. “Okay, tell him to get in here.”



“OH, MAN.” Mike winced at the brass clock on his desk. She’d be here in less than an hour and he still had two reports to fill out for customs and a stack of invoices to approve. Of all the jobs the Scarpettis had asked of him, baby-sitting had to be the lowest. He’d almost told them to kiss off on this one, but then he had a staggering realization. The trust Antonio had placed in him was pretty damn remarkable.

Most of the older Scarpetti men were still old-fashioned, especially about their women, and that included Antonio. They liked their women pretty, obedient and chaste. Trusting Mike with the care of his niece was the closest Mike had ever gotten to the inner circle. In a way he felt as if he’d finally been given the keys to the house.

Too bad all his work wouldn’t resolve itself while he was playing nursemaid. He pushed the stack of invoices to the side to make room for his day planner. The way he figured it, he could still come to work early in the morning and late in the evening. Even though Antonio had instructed him that Gina was to have close supervision, Robert had given Mike a heads up on what to expect.

From what Rob remembered, Gina was a bookworm who was just as happy to spend her day in a library or sitting in front of a computer as she’d be sightseeing. She’d flip over the New York Library. Mike figured that alone would keep her busy for half her stay.

He studied his day planner, arranging and rearranging his priorities for the next week and listing them in the order they required his attention. The intercom rang, surprising him. The company’s two secretaries were at lunch, Robert was picking Gina up at the airport, and none of the other three Scarpettis working in the office bothered to use the device. When they wanted someone, they just opened their mouths and let it rip.

“Mike, Robert’s back with—” Clicks and static interrupted Antonio’s voice, and then the connection was back and he muttered, “How the hell do you work this thing?”

“Keep this button depressed.” Robert’s voice came through. “Go ahead, talk.”

“Mike?”

“I’m here.”

“Would you come to my office, please?” His abrupt change in tone, obviously for the benefit of his niece, had Mike grinning all the way down the hall.

It never failed to amaze him that the company ran profitably. Antonio was a shrewd enough businessman who kept close watch on the operation and the finances, but his refusal to modernize came at a cost. Robert understood that, but he wasn’t ambitious enough. If Mike could only get a foothold, he knew he could make some innovative changes that would make them all take notice.

Rob passed Mike as he left his father’s office and gave him an apologetic smile. Antonio’s door was already open, but Mike gave a brief courtesy knock before entering.

“Ah, here he is.” Antonio gestured him inside.

Antonio’s desk was the neatest Mike had ever seen it. Even the papers in the In box in the corner were in a tidy stack. The nude painting that usually hung on the wall behind the boss had been removed.

Mike cleared his throat to disguise a laugh. It was a perfectly tasteful and expensive painting. This Gina had to be some prim and proper—

Then he saw her. Sitting at Antonio’s conference table, bundled up in a big, bulky tan coat, her hair stuffed into an ugly knit cap. She must be roasting in this August heat, Mike thought.

“This is my niece, Gina Ferraro.” Antonio made a sweeping motion with his hand, urging Mike inside. “Mike is our distribution manager.”

“Hello,” she said in a throaty voice, her sultry accent wrapping around Mike like a cashmere blanket. She sent her uncle a quizzical look out of almond-shaped brown eyes. “I thought that was Roberto’s job.”

Antonio looked as surprised as Mike that she’d asked the question. But he only shrugged. “They share the title. But Mike does most of the work.”

Gina switched her attention back to him, but Mike was still reeling from Antonio’s surprising but astute remark. He hadn’t realized Antonio was aware of the situation.

“And now you have to baby-sit me,” she said, her lips pursing slightly in a pout as she extended her hand. “I have explained to everyone that I do not need an escort.”

“This is a big city, cara.” Antonio gave his niece a patient smile. The kind he reserved for nice Italian women from whom he expected obedience.

“Yes, Zio,” she said meekly, looking directly into Mike’s eyes as he accepted her hand. Small. Incredibly soft.

“It’s really no trouble. We have a terrific library in—”

Annoyance flickered in her eyes, and she withdrew her hand. “I have made a list of places I would like to visit.”

“Oh, okay. Sure.”

“Have you had lunch?” Antonio rubbed his meaty palms together. “Either of you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Let’s all go to Angelo’s. You two can get better acquainted over a nice bowl of linguini and clams.”

Gina made a slight face, but then said, “Yes, Uncle.”

Mike stepped aside and waited until she stood. She was petite, about five-three in sensible black-laced shoes, the kind Mike’s grandmother used to wear.

Antonio gestured for them to precede him out the door. “After we eat, Mike will take you to my apartment so you can unpack and rest awhile. Later, if you aren’t too tired we’ll have dinner together. Okay?”

“Whatever you say, Uncle Antonio.”

“And take off that coat before you die of heatstroke and your mother makes meatballs out of me.”

She touched the top button with reluctant fingers and then slipped it free. By the time she got to the third one, the sudden tension that had coiled in Mike’s gut about knocked him over.

What the hell was wrong with him? He didn’t have time to analyze this odd reaction. She was on the last button.

She pulled the lapels apart and shrugged the bulky fabric off her shoulders, revealing an unattractive, shapeless black dress over hose that were too thick.

Mike let out a disappointed breath and took the coat from her. But the smile she gave him made his insides tighten again. It was the almond-shaped eyes and full lips. He was a sucker for both. Good thing she wasn’t his type. As if he had one after such a long dry spell.

They all got to the hall and Antonio bellowed for Robert to join them. So much for the intercom.

The restaurant was crowded for midafternoon, but Antonio’s regular table was reserved and they were waited on quickly. Everyone ordered pasta but Gina. She wanted a cheeseburger and fries.

As soon as she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, Antonio chuckled. “A cheeseburger.” He muttered something in Italian. “This is the rebellion my sister is so worried about.”

Robert shook his head. “I kind of feel sorry for her.” His gaze followed Gina. “She’s twenty-three and she looks like forty dressed like that. Maybe Mike should take her shopping.”

Mike snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Antonio tore off a piece of bread from the loaf in the center of the table and then peered at him with open curiosity. “You guys know how to do that kind of stuff, right?”

“Pop.”

Mike caught Robert giving his father the eye. “What do you mean?”

Antonio shrugged and busied himself with slathering enough butter on his bread to clog an artery. “I don’t want her to get crazy, but maybe a nice pink dress would be good. Black is so old-fashioned.”

Mike and Robert exchanged amused looks.

“It’s Sophia. My sister still thinks she lives in the nineteenth century. Black is for mourning.” He looked up and nudged his chin at Mike. “Help her find a nice pink dress. Just not too short, okay?”

Mike grabbed a hunk of bread before he said something he’d regret. Robert damn well better be right. Gina had better prefer spending time at the library or computer, and not Bloomingdale’s and Bergdorf’s. If she wanted to shop, she could find just about anything online.

Robert signaled the waitress for another beer. “Gina went to Catholic boarding school all her life. I’m sure the nuns had a lot of influence on her choice of clothing.”

“Here she comes. Stop talking about her.” Antonio reached for a second piece of bread, and Robert deftly grabbed the butter.

“Come on, Pop. Too much of this stuff isn’t good for you.”

“You, who ordered a second beer in fifteen minutes, is telling me this?”

Mike let the familiar argument fade into the background as he watched Gina approach the table. As conservatively as she was dressed, she didn’t have a timid way of walking or carrying herself. As unbecoming as her hairstyle was, the severity of it accentuated her exotic eyes and full lips, and a couple of heads turned when she passed a table of four men.

Antonio stood when she got to the table, and he gave Robert and Mike the evil eye until they gave in and followed his lead. Gina reclaimed her seat, pressing her lips together as if trying to hide a smile.

She caught Mike watching her and quickly looked away. When Antonio tried to take the butter, the other two started in again. The genuine affection between father and son always impressed Mike, and he barely paid attention to the petty squabbling.

Apparently Gina didn’t, either. She glanced around the restaurant, her hands folded primly on the table, yet barely able to contain the excitement in her eyes.

Poor kid. Had she really been hidden away at a convent school all her life? Mike didn’t doubt it. The Scarpettis clung to some odd traditional values. Even Antonio had his quirks in that department, although he’d never admit it.

Mike continued to watch how her eyes widened with interest as she took in the rowdy but good-natured interplay at the bar. The TV positioned high on the corner wall was showing a baseball game, and some fevered cheering escalated the noise level.

When Cindy, a cocktail waitress in a black miniskirt and a tight blouse endorsing the Mets walked by with a tray of mugs, Gina’s eyes widened even more. She watched the woman deliver the beer to a table and blinked in astonishment when the redhead leaned over to unload the tray. The way the skirt rode up, not much was left to the imagination.

“So, Gina, what kind of things do you like to do?” Mike asked to distract her. And himself.

Her gaze settled on him. “Me? Well, I read a lot.” Her shrug was apologetic. “I sew and I spend time on the computer. I am afraid I do not have a very exciting life.”

“Nothing wrong with that. Mine isn’t all that exciting, either.” Unfortunately that was the truth. All he did was work.

“But this is a city full of fun and excitement and…” Her voice rose with excitement, drawing her uncle and cousin’s attention. She gave them a serene smile.

Antonio gave her a patronizing one back.

Mike sighed. Poor kid. It wouldn’t kill him to show her the sights a little. He’d have to check the entertainment listings. Maybe The Lion King was still on Broadway.




2


GINA WAVED GOODBYE to her uncle and cousin and blew them a kiss as the elevator doors closed. She could not wait to get out of their office and go to the apartment. She loved her family, but she hated the black dress more. Mama had insisted she wear it on the plane, and Gina had figured it was a small price to pay for a month’s freedom in New York City.

“Where is your car?” she asked when they got outside.

Mike gave her a funny look as he stepped off the sidewalk onto the street. “I don’t have one. We’ll take a cab.”

“You do not have one? I thought everybody in America had two cars and two televisions.”

Laughing, Mike raised his arm to hail a cab. “Not in New York they don’t. It would cost too much for me to keep a car here. Anyway, I don’t need one.”

She liked the way his light-brown hair curled at the ends and touched the back of his white collar. He was tall, almost a foot taller than her, and she liked that, too. “Uncle Antonio…he does not pay you enough money?”

His sea-green eyes unexpectedly met hers, and she felt a tingle at the back of her neck. “I make a very good salary. Keeping a car simply isn’t sensible.”

Gina sighed. Sensible. She did not want to hear that word ever again. Regina Marie, please be sensible, Mama had said a hundred times since Gina had returned from school. You cannot have an apartment in the city, she had said. Living alone would not be sensible for a single girl about to be married.

Marriage. Gina cringed at the thought. She had nothing against the institution, but the family expected her to marry Mario, who owned the neighboring vineyard. But he was old, almost forty, and as exciting as shriveling grapes.

Sometimes when she was home from school she would stroll through the vineyards in the evening and she could see the lights in his house go out at ten o’clock. Her friends did not even leave their houses for the clubs until nine.

“Gina?”

She blinked and saw that a cab had pulled over and Mike was holding the door open for her. Arranging the bulky coat she had put back on over the dress, she slid across the back seat, where she stayed close to the middle of the seat.

Mike put her luggage in the trunk, got in, gave the driver an address and settled back and loosened his tie. His suit was made of a dark-blue lightweight material that clung to his thighs. He was thin, but not too thin, just right, really, with no spare flesh around his middle. Without the jacket his shoulders were broad and straight.

He was definitely the kind of guy the girls at school talked about when they had been lucky enough to sneak away to the city for a night. Gina had been brave enough only once, and she had almost gotten caught by Sister Maria Therese. Even though she had made it over the fence unseen, she had worried the entire night that her empty bed would be discovered and so had no fun at all.

Mike continued to look out the window and she edged an inch closer until their thighs nearly touched. He rubbed his shadowed chin, pushed a hand through his hair, but did not even give her a second glance.

Gina sighed. She hated being ignored almost as much as she hated the black dress. But that was all right. She would soon get a reaction from Mike Mason.



ANTONIO HAD CALLED ahead to alert the doorman at his building to let them in. Mike left one of Gina’s suitcases with the guy while he escorted her to Antonio’s apartment. Leaving the bag was a safety net. In case he had to make a quick getaway.

Something about Gina was giving him hot flashes. Maybe it was her subtle vanilla scent or her soft unconscious sighs. Or maybe it was the innocent way her thigh kept brushing against his as they’d sat in the cab.

Gina walked ahead of him, her swaying hips revealing a few curves. She had them in the right places, that was for sure, not to mention full high breasts not even the ugly black dress could hide.

Shit! What a jerk. He was supposed to be watching Gina. Not watching her.

Ever since he and Robert had noticed that blonde outside his office a few days ago, Mike had been acutely aware of how long it’d been since he’d been horizontal with some sweet young thing. Maybe he ought to lower his standards for a night. Be like Robert and pick someone up at a bar who had the same idea in mind.

But that wasn’t his thing. He’d have to be really horny, and the situation wasn’t that bad yet. But he had gone so far as to find out that the blonde’s name was Heidi and that she was a sales rep for one of their outside distributors. He’d also found out that she’d asked about him.

That gave him the green light. Now he needed time away from his baby-sitting duty.

“Do you know which bedroom will be mine?” Gina asked once they’d gotten inside the apartment.

“Why?” he asked quickly, his mind racing.

She blinked. “So we know where to put the suitcases.”

“Oh, right.” He flexed his shoulder, trying to loosen the mounting tension traveling to the back of his neck. “Maybe we should just leave them in the living room for now.”

“But I want to unpack.” She stepped closer, peering into his face. “Are you not well?”

“I’m fine.” He headed down the hall, not sure which bedroom to go to. He’d been to Antonio’s at least a dozen times, but had never made it past the living room and kitchen.

It ended up a simple choice. Besides the master bedroom, there was only one guest room. The third bedroom contained only a desk, computer and love seat.

He set down the suitcase between the white-oak armoire and four-poster queen-size bed. When he turned to leave, he ran into Gina. She stumbled backward and he caught her upper arms.

Her eyes widened. “Scusi.”

He stood, paralyzed by the sultry beauty of her eyes, how thick inky-black lashes highlighted the golden flecks. The firm muscle he found under his touch surprised him. He didn’t know what he expected, maybe more fleshy softness. But to be this toned and sculpted, she clearly worked out.

Man, she was in better shape than he was.

At the depressing thought he dropped his hands. He didn’t move back, though, and neither did she. They just stood looking at each other for a long heart-stopping moment.

“Uh, I’d better go get your other bag from the doorman,” he said finally, stepping back and then taking a wide swing around her.

“You will be right back?”

“Of course.” He made it to the door. “But if you want to start unpacking or take a nap or whatever, go ahead. I’ll leave the bag outside the door.”

“You will not leave me here alone?” Her eyes had gotten wide again and a little frightened.

Mike sobered. He was supposed to be taking care of her, not running away because he couldn’t keep his libido under wraps. “I’ll be either in the living room or in your uncle’s office making some phone calls and checking my e-mail.”

“Good.” She smiled. “I would like to unpack, but do not need a nap. Perhaps we could go to Central Park?”

Mike checked his watch. No way was he getting in rush hour traffic all the way to Manhattan. “We’ll save that for another day when we can get an earlier start.”

“I understand,” she said, but her lips pursed in a pout. And then he realized she wasn’t pouting at all. The look was natural because of the fullness of her lips. A sexy look that women paid thousands to surgically duplicate.

He rubbed his clammy palms together. “Okay, I’m going to go now. Take your time.”

Mike got the hell out of the apartment before he said or did something really stupid. The elevator was slow to get to the tenth floor and that suited him just fine. Only a fool would be anxious to get back too quickly.

Gina was going to be more trouble than he anticipated. But not if he got a grip of himself. Oh, shit, he wanted to be gripped, all right. That was the problem. But she was a kid, and he should be ashamed.

Okay, so she was only five years younger than he was. But if age were measured in experience, she’d be a baby. Robert’s description of her wasn’t the only clue. Gina looked sexy—that was a quirk of nature—but she was still inexperienced and naive. A guy could tell that sort of thing.

Experienced or not, she was off-limits.

He gave the elevator down button another impatient jab and then wished he could recall the asinine gesture. No sense in hurrying back to temptation. Not that he’d act on any of his impulses. Unless he wanted to get his ass fired.

The elevator doors opened and as soon as he got in, the car shot down to the first floor as if it were a friggin’ express. The doorman was talking to someone, so Mike perused the building’s notice board. There was an ad for a dog-walking service and beside it, was a flyer for massage therapy. In the top corner was a picture of the busty blond masseuse. And she made house calls.

Mike groaned. He wasn’t that desperate. Was he?



GINA BEGAN UNPACKING the clothes her mother had insisted she bring. Those things she shoved in the closet, unconcerned about the wrinkles. She would only need them when she dined with Uncle Antonio or visited with him in the apartment. The rest of the time she would wear the clothes she had made herself or had bought with the allowance her mother had sent her while she was at school.

Carefully she unrolled the cropped T-shirts, Capri leggings and miniskirts she’d hidden beneath her assorted underwear. One dress in particular she shook out and then laid across the bed. It had wrinkled during the trip, but the material was stretchy, and once it was on her body, it would be so tight she would not have to worry about ironing it.

She kicked off her shoes and knelt on the floor to root through her second suitcase. Two pairs of strappy sandals had been hidden among her toiletries. She fished them out, along with the red nail polish for her toes.

Not even a sliver of guilt dampened her excitement. She was tired of wearing ugly dresses and having to act like an old woman. None of the other girls at boarding school or the all-girl university she had attended had parents as strict as hers.

And for what? She had been a good girl, studying hard, getting good grades, staying away from the boys who hung around outside the school’s stone wall. She had not gotten into trouble like some of the other girls, or at least nothing that her parents knew about. The two times Gina had made the sisters angry by staying out past curfew, she had been able to talk them into not writing her parents a report.

She pulled off the dreadful black dress, wadded it into a ball and threw it on the closet floor. She would not need it until her flight home. Just the thought of having to return to Tuscany to plan her wedding depressed her. She quickly chose an outfit that would lift her mood, and then sat on the floor and shook the bottle of red polish.

The scandalous color made her heart race so fast that her hands shook. She had to keep stopping to wipe the excess polish off the brush so that she did not make a mess of her toes. While letting the first coat dry, she leaned back, her arms outstretched for support, her legs straight out in front of her so she could admire her work. She wiggled her toes and was pleased when the light reflected off the shiny gloss.

She hoped Mike was not growing impatient. The thought of him made her smile. He was tall and handsome and she liked the way he smelled, too. Fresh and clean, like pine trees washed by the rain.

She wished the girls back at school could see him. They would all be jealous. Especially Maria Scalia, the nasty witch, who had nicknamed Gina Virgin Mary, as if Maria knew all about sex. How Gina would love to see her mouth drop at the sight of Mike and his beautiful green eyes.

She slumped back against the bed and pictured herself casually mentioning to her graduating class how Mike would be her personal escort for an entire month. Of course she would refer to him as Michael. That name suited him better.

The fantasy made her smile as she applied the second coat of polish. She wondered what Mike would say when she told him she wanted to lose her virginity.

With him.



THREE-THIRTY AND STILL no sign of her. Mike began to wonder if she’d fallen asleep. Not that he’d knock on her door to find out. The longer she stayed in her room, the better for him. He lifted the phone to return another call he’d picked up from his voice mail.

In the short time since he’d gone to lunch and arrived at Antonio’s apartment, four messages had been left for him. What the hell would happen when he was out of the office for most of the month? This was going to be a disaster.

Robert wouldn’t be leaving for vacation for three more days. He’d have to step in and entertain his cousin. Melanie or Melody or whoever his newest love interest was would just have to wait until the cruise for his undivided attention.

His last call returned, Mike hung up the phone and heard a door click. He glanced over his shoulder down the hall but saw no sign of Gina. Relief and disappointment washed over him in alternate waves. Part of him wished she’d stay out of his face for a while and give him a chance to regroup. The other part of him wanted to get lost in her seductive eyes.

It was the accent, he told himself. That’s what turned him on. His first major crush had been on his French teacher. He’d been thirteen and she had probably been in her early thirties. She was pretty enough, but it was her accent that had him reaching under the covers at night.

He sat at Antonio’s desk and flipped on the computer. He was surprised his boss even knew how to use a computer, much less have one at home. At Mike’s touch, dust flew off the keyboard, and he shook his head. He should’ve figured Antonio didn’t actually use it. Knowing him, he probably thought it made him look in touch with the business.

He had only two new e-mails to answer and had just finished signing off when he heard Gina clear her throat. Taking a deep breath and wondering what the hell he should do with her now, he pushed back from the desk.

He turned toward the doorway and his jaw went slack. His mouth opened. Nothing came out.

“You like?” she asked, skimming her hands down the sides of a red dress that fit like a second skin. Her long thick hair was down. Dark and glossy with chestnut-colored streaks, it reached just past her shoulders.

She had put on makeup, not a lot, but enough to accentuate her eyes and cheekbones. Before she was pretty; now she was a stunner.

“Mike?” Worry lines formed between her brows.

“Um…” He had to say something eventually—when his mouth worked. Instead, he made the mistake of checking out her dress again. Made of some type of stretchy material, it left no doubt where every curve started and ended. The neckline wasn’t too low, but Gina’s breasts were so full that…

“You’re not going out like that.”

She frowned, her red-tinted lips forming that sexy pout again. “Why not?”

“Why not?” His gaze automatically ran down her body. If her dress was two inches shorter… “Because women don’t dress like that here.” Most of them couldn’t get away with it—and look that good.

“Yes, they do.”

“Not in the daytime.”

Gina folded her arms across her chest, pushing everything into the right place, and Mike had to look away quickly. “I have seen them.”

“You’ve been to New York before?”

She shook her head. “I have seen Sex and the City. Twice. At my friend Lucia’s house.”

“Sex and the City?”

“On the television. It is—”

He sighed. “I know what it is, Gina. But women don’t really— What?”

“That is the first time you said my name.” Her lips curved in a smile that made his chest tighten. “I like very much the way you say it. Please, say it again.”

“Don’t try to distract me.”

She blinked, confusion clouding her eyes. “I do not understand.”

How was he going to explain? Admit that just looking at her gave him a hard-on? Thank God he was already sitting down. He grabbed the edge of the desktop and pulled the chair and himself closer to the desk.

He forced his thoughts back to last Sunday at the grocery store when he’d splattered a ripe juicy plum at the feet of a pretty blond shopper. Recalling the embarrassment of her shocked scream and accusing eyes barely did the trick. He was still pretty damn hard. At least he had the desk for protection.

“Ah, I understand,” Gina said after a discomfiting silence. “Distract. It means I take you off the subject.” She looked pleased. “I do that?”

He groaned. “You have to change your clothes.”

Her eyes got dark and wounded. “Because I look fat.”

That startled a laugh out of him. “No, trust me, you do not look fat.”

She shrunk back, her shoulders hunching forward, and then hugged herself.

“Come on, Gina, you look terrific.” He started to get up and thought better of it. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

Guarded pleasure lightened her eyes. “You say that not to hurt my feelings.”

“Wrong, and you know it.”

She blinked a couple of times, fret drawing her brows together and doubt so plain in her face, that he got it. She really didn’t know that she was a stone fox, built like a brick house, the object of men’s fantasies.

Unbelievable! She had no friggin’ idea. Not a clue. She really had been sheltered. Probably had worn a conservative schoolgirl uniform most of her life. This was all experimentation to her.

But heart failure for him. “The reason I want you to change has nothing to do with how you look. I’m worried about what your uncle will say.”

Defiance flashed in her face. “I am doing nothing wrong.”

“No, you aren’t. But would he approve?”

She sighed heavily and paced to the window.

Mike clenched his jaw. He hadn’t seen the back of her until now. Or had gotten down far enough to notice how the black spike heels made her legs look longer and shapely. That wasn’t even the best part. She had the most perfect rear end known to man. He tried to look away. He couldn’t.

She stared out the window long enough for him to give himself a thorough mental shake, and then she undid his hard work by turning around and meeting his eyes. “I do not want to displease my uncle, or my mother. That is not my intention.” She shoved her fingers through her hair, letting the thick strands fall in a curtain of silk. “I am just trying to have fun, to be like other girls, to enjoy life before…”

She pressed her lips together and turned back toward the window. “You are very kind to worry, Mike, but how I dress is not your problem.”

The hell it wasn’t. He was going to get fired over this. All the accurate forecasts and tight budgets he’d produced weren’t going to mean squat to Antonio if he thought Mike wasn’t doing right by his niece.

In the back of his mind, Mike recalled how Antonio liked to play up his Italian heritage, make references that he was related to a godfather in Sicily. Some of the guys at the warehouse chuckled about it behind his back. But maybe it wasn’t a joke. Maybe he’d have someone whack Mike and make it look like an accident.

“Look, Gina, since I’m your guardian…”

Her eyes blazed.

“I mean, escort, while you’re in New York, I kind of am responsible.”

She smoothed her palm over her hip and down her thigh. His gaze helplessly followed. “I am not a child.”

“No, you definitely aren’t.” He swallowed, cleared his throat. “Will you excuse me a moment?”

He had to talk to Robert. This arrangement was not going to work. No way. Not without Mike ending up with his butt in a sling.

Gina stood there looking uncertain, and Mike realized she was waiting for him to get up and leave. That could be a problem, yet he couldn’t very well make the call in front of her. He shifted in hopes of loosening his pants.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, moving toward him.

“No.” He shot off the chair. “Nothing. I need to go make a phone call.”

She followed him out to the hall.

“In private.”

Her eyes narrowed and she drew her lower lip into her mouth. “Is it about me?”

Mike hesitated, fascinated with the new contortion of her lips. “Sort of.”

She stepped closer. “What have I done?”

All she had to do was glance down at his fly and she’d know exactly what she’d done. He backed up toward the living room. “Nothing. I have to go.”

She followed. “But, Mike…”

Thinking he heard something, he held up a hand for silence.

“But I—”

“Wait! Did you hear that?”

She stopped short and listened.

A click broke the silence.

“The door.” Mike cursed under his breath. “It’s your uncle.”




3


“MADRE DIO.” Gina’s gaze flew toward the living room. For all her brave words, she did not want her uncle to see her like this.

“Go to your room. I’ll tell him you’re napping.”

Not anxious to be sent back on the next plane, she started to obey when the door opened.

She would never make it to her room before Antonio saw her. To her left was a closed door. She grabbed Mike’s sleeve and pulled him into the dark room with her. Only, it was a closet.

“What the hell did you do—?” Mike cut himself off at the sound of her uncle calling for her. He muttered a word she did not understand, his warm breath gliding across her cheek.

The closet was small and crowded and they were pressed so close together, Gina could hardly breathe. She moved her right arm and her breast rubbed against him. At his sharp intake of breath she froze.

Only one other time had she been this close to a boy. Diego was a classmate’s brother and he had been all hands. It had been fun and exciting at first, but then he scared her by reaching between her legs. When he would not stop as she had asked, she had bitten his arm.

But Mike’s hands were nowhere near her. She wondered what he would do if she placed her palms on his chest. She smiled when she realized there was nothing he could do. Not without alerting her uncle. And Mike would not do that.

“Mike?” she whispered.

“Shh.” He put a finger to her lips, missing at first in the darkness, but then finding her and making her heart race like a runaway horse.

She parted her lips ever so slightly, and he let his finger trail away, dragging across her lower lip as he withdrew. A warmth spread over her body, and she closed her eyes and snuggled closer, pressing her breasts lightly to his chest.

His heart beat wildly against her. She swallowed hard. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to put his arms around her. She wanted—

Her uncle coughed, and she jumped. It sounded as if he was just on the other side of the door.

Mike’s arms instantly came up to hold her still. She laid her cheek and one palm against his chest. He didn’t move at first, and then he tightened his hold. Not much, but enough to make her knees weak.

Tentatively she splayed her hand on his chest. He jerked slightly and then stilled, and she did not think she imagined that his hand moved down her back. Just a little, and not in an obvious way, but it was enough of a caress to cause goose bumps to march down her arms.

She stood on tiptoe so she could get close to his ear and whispered, “What are we going to do?”

Mike wished like hell he knew. If he wasn’t so damned aroused, he’d be angry as all get-out. Gina hiding in the closet was one thing. The two of them—together—could he explain that to Antonio?

He lowered his head to her ear. Soft silky strands of hair brushed his jaw. Her exotic scent briefly robbed him of all thought. She was so close she had to feel the erection that wouldn’t quit. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

“We’ll have to sit tight,” he finally managed to whisper, and when she abruptly tilted her head back, he realized she probably didn’t understand the phrase.

He didn’t bother trying to explain. She’d keep quiet. That was what counted. He had to think. Which wasn’t easy with her breasts rubbing against his chest. He shifted, hoping for more distance, and her hip stroked his arousal. Sucking in a breath didn’t help. It only pushed him in harder against her breasts.

Like a flash of lightning, it occurred to him that he still had his arms around her. He loosened them and his hands fell to the curve of her backside. Fighting the temptation to cup her to him required every ounce of his willpower.

Gina was like the girls in high school he’d watched from afar but never had the nerve to ask out. They were the cheerleaders and song leaders, and God forbid they’d go out with anyone who didn’t throw a football.

“Mike?” She touched his chest to get his attention. Yeah, that did it, all right. “I think my uncle has gone into the bathroom,” she whispered, her warm, intoxicating breath another nail in his coffin.

Dammit. He should have been listening for Antonio.

“Mike?”

“Wait.” With his thumb, he touched her lips. They were moist, and he had the insane urge to lower his head and kiss them.

Her hand moved restlessly against his chest. She had to be able to feel his heart pounding—pounding so hard he thought it might explode. That wasn’t the only thing about to explode, and he knew she could feel that, too.

He straightened, listened and thought he heard a water faucet. That was enough for him. He disengaged himself from her tempting hands, carefully turned the knob. A quick glance down the hall assured him the coast was clear.

“Go to your room. Now,” he said, and took off out the apartment door as though the devil himself was on his heels.



MIKE WAS THE FIRST one in the office the next morning. He got there early, about six-thirty, after a nightmare woke him before the alarm went off. In the dream, Antonio and his brother-in-law, Augie, had chased Mike with butcher knives. They had nearly caught up to him when he’d bolted upright in bed in a cold sweat.

The memory made him look over his shoulder as he turned on the office lights. After he got the coffee started, he emptied his In box and started to sift through the reports and invoices that required his attention.

His mind kept wandering to Gina. She wasn’t easy to figure out. Did she have her family fooled? Or had she really been that sheltered? He couldn’t deny the unguarded innocence in her eyes or the uncertainty in her voice when she tried to assert herself. Don’t judge a book by its cover was one of his mother’s favorite sayings. Gina made a good case for that old adage.

“Hey, Mike.”

At the sound of Antonio’s voice, Mike jumped and dropped his pen. It rolled toward his desk clock. Seven-fifteen. “What are you doing here so early?”

Antonio grunted and reached into his pocket for a cigar. “It’s Gina.”

Shit! He was going to get fired. Or worse.

“I couldn’t go out last night,” Antonio said. “I had to stay home with her and got too damn much sleep. Where were you?”

“Me? Home. I, uh, figured she was too tired to go anywhere.”

“Tired? She drove me crazy. She has a list this long of places to go.” He held his hands an exaggerated distance apart. “I told her she has to wait for you to take her. I don’t know these young people’s hangouts.”

“I thought she liked hanging around libraries and computers.”

Antonio snorted. “Her mother likes her hanging around libraries and computers. Sophia is too old-fashioned. Gina should go to a dance or a movie sometimes. She should do what other young girls do.”

Mike didn’t think so, but he kept his mouth shut.

Antonio eyed the stack of paper in front of Mike. “You are not planning to work today.”

“I have a few calls to make and—”

“No. Gina is at home eating breakfast. She will be ready in an hour. Today I want you to take her to Central Park.”

“Maybe Robert can—”

Antonio gave his head an emphatic shake. “Robert is going to New Jersey to check a location for a new distribution center.”

“In Jersey?” That didn’t make sense. Not if they were looking into a West Coast site. They couldn’t afford two new locations at once.

Antonio shrugged. “It’s close and cheaper than any of the boroughs.”

“Why didn’t I know about this?”

“No decision has been made.” Antonio waved an impatient hand. “Worry about Gina. Your work can wait.”

Mike bit back a curse. What the hell was going on? Was the West Coast proposal just a carrot to keep him placated for a while? He had to talk to Robert. “I’ll take care of your niece.”

“Good.” Antonio reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash stuck in a gold money clip. He threw a couple of large bills on Mike’s desk. “Tell her to buy something nice, huh?”

Mike watched him leave. He’d always liked Antonio. The man had been good to Mike’s mother, paying her a more-than-reasonable salary and being generous with bonuses for Christmas and her birthday. He’d been generous with Mike, as well. But he didn’t like the way Antonio ignored Gina. For all his talk about family being everything, he sure didn’t have much time for his niece.

Of course the Scarpetti men’s attitudes toward women were not always admirable. Not that they overtly disrespected them, but they coddled them too much, failed to give them enough credit for having any sense outside the home.

It surprised Mike that Gina had attended college. Made him wonder what she planned to do with her education. Probably enter the family business on the Italian end, where they made the wine. It was logical she’d stay there where her father and Antonio’s older brother Guisseppi ran the vineyard and harvested the grapes.

Other options could keep her in Europe, as well. Antonio’s other brother, Dominic, headed the wine distribution in Paris, and the younger one, Pietro, handled the marketing and warehousing in Rome. Gina would do well on the sales side of things. What red-blooded man wouldn’t want to place an enormous order with her? Sexist, he knew, but it was the reality of the male-dominated business.

So why did the idea annoy the hell out of him? Why his sudden interest in Gina’s future? He had enough to worry about keeping her out of trouble for the next month. And not getting himself fired.

He plowed through the paperwork that couldn’t wait, left a voice mail for Robert to contact him as soon as he got back and then grabbed a cab and headed home. If he was going to spend the day in Central Park, it wouldn’t be in a suit.



GINA SAT ON THE WINDOWSILL, staring down at the crowded sidewalk, watching the streams of people hurry to work. Many of the women wore suits and tennis shoes. An odd but practical combination, she figured, envious of their freedom of choice.

She wished she owned a suit. Mama thought they looked too manly. As if the ugly black dresses she liked Gina to wear were not too grandmotherly.

Sighing, she checked her watch. Would Mike ever show up? She hoped he was not angry about yesterday. All her courage had faded when she heard Zio Antonio outside the door, and she panicked. No harm had been done, though. Her uncle thought she had been in her room alone.

She slid off the sill and adjusted her skirt. Wearing skirts so short was not easy. She was constantly tugging and pulling and trying not to feel self-conscious. Some of her school friends had encouraged her. They wore skirts equally short, some of them even in front of their parents.

The knock at the door had her tripping over the unfamiliar high heels, and she hopped to the door on one leg, trying to adjust the fit. Before she opened it, she slipped the other shoe back on.

Mike did not look happy, and her mood fell. “Gina, why didn’t you ask who it was before you opened the door?”

She shrugged, more interested in the snug fit of his jeans and black T-shirt. “I knew it was you. Zio Antonio said you were coming.”

His gaze ran down the front of her, something in his eyes making her get hot and prickly. “Since I didn’t call from downstairs for you to buzz me in, you should have been more cautious. Next time find out who it is before you unlock the door. New York is not the safest place.”

“Why are you trying to frighten me?”

“I’m just trying to make you more aware.” He walked in and locked the door behind him. “Your uncle told me you wanted to go to Central Park.”

“Oh, yes. The sky is so blue and pretty. It would be a perfect day, yes?”

His eyebrows dipped in a frown. “Then why are you dressed like that?”

She looked down at the pink blouse tied at her waist and denim miniskirt. “You do not like this outfit, either?”

“I like it fine, but not for a day in the park. What if you want to sit in the grass?”

“I do not have any pants,” she murmured, and looked away.

“Pardon me?”

“Mama does not think women should wear pants.”

Mike laughed. “And she would want you to wear this?”

His amusement fueled her embarrassment. Sometimes her parents’ old-fashioned attitude made her ashamed. “No, but I sewed this myself in secret. Pants are harder and take longer to make.”

Surprise, then understanding flickered in his eyes, and he smiled. “How would you like a pair of jeans?”

“Oh, yes. The kind with a ripped knee or—”

He chuckled. “Let’s get a whole pair for now, okay?”



WHY DID HE SET himself up for this kind of torture? Mike had never had masochistic tendencies before now. Why had he foolishly thought shopping would be easy with a woman who looked like Gina?

“What about these?” She pranced out of the dressing room and twirled around so that he wouldn’t miss the back view. “Do you like them?”

The faded denim was skintight and accentuated her narrow waist and full hips. Her belly was remarkably flat, considering how he’d seen her wolf down the entire cheeseburger and fries yesterday. Her rear end was round and perfect and begged for a man’s hands—his hands—to mold themselves over the taut curves.

“Mike, are you all right?” she asked, a worried frown wrinkling her brow.

As soon as his heart started again, he’d be fine. “I like the other pair better.”

“But they were too baggy.”

Exactly. “Can you even sit down in those?”

She grinned and walked toward him. “Do you want to see?”

Mike held up a hand. “Never mind.”

No telling what she’d do. He was sitting in the only seat outside the women’s dressing room, which made his lap the likely target for her demonstration. Oh, yeah, that would be great. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t attracted enough attention from the other Bloomingdale shoppers.

Both men and women eyed Gina as she modeled the different styles of jeans. She seemed oblivious to the mixture of envy and admiration in their stares. She was too excited about the whole prospect of shopping.

“I have one more pair to try on.” She spun toward the dressing-room door, then stopped and asked, “May I have two pairs? Per piacere…please?”

If he said no, two guys, who hadn’t once taken their eyes off her, would probably gladly buy her anything she wanted. A woman about his age who’d overheard Gina gave Mike a hostile look as if he was a vile controlling husband.

“Fine. Just hurry up.” He stood and got out his wallet. Antonio had given him a nice piece of change. Enough for the jeans and a dress—an appropriate dress, like maybe a muumuu. Hell, Mike would gladly pay for it himself.

She came out to show him the third pair, which looked so much like the last pair that he didn’t know she’d changed. At Gina’s request, the saleswoman cut off the tags so she could wear them out of the store.

After their purchases were wrapped and paid for, they headed for the escalator. They got as far as the lingerie department. Gina stopped and stared at the red and black silk G-strings on display.

Fear gripped the back of Mike’s neck. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”

Her eyes widened. “Central Park closes?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Gina sidled up and took him by the arm. “Can we not stay for ten more minutes?”

He darted a look at the mannequin wearing the G-string and tried not to think about the way Gina rubbed the inside of his arm.

“Per piacere.” She made her lips look pouty. “I mean, please.”

“Just ten minutes.”

“I promise.” She smiled and then kissed his cheek.

An innocent touch that threatened a major hard-on. Oh, man, he was in bad shape. No way was he going to stand around and watch her select underwear. “I’ll wait for you on the first floor.”

Her expression fell. “Why?”

“Because I have something to do down there.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew some money. “Here.”

“Grazie, but I have my own money.” She lifted her chin and headed in the direction of the G-strings.

What had he done wrong? “Ten minutes,” he called. “At the bottom of the escalator.”

She waved without turning around, which was good enough for him. Let her get her G-string or whatever. He didn’t have to know what she wore under her clothes. And he didn’t have to subject himself to watching her select it.

He used the time to go to the washroom and splash his face with cold water. On the way back to the escalator, he stopped at the men’s cosmetic counter and squirted himself with one of the testers. The stuff smelled nasty, and he let out a rude grunt that netted him several stares. No wonder he never wore any of that junk.

With a minute to spare he arrived at the escalator. No sign of Gina yet. Not that he expected her to be early. She’d been like a kid in a candy store all morning, excited by simply trying on sunglasses. She’d explained that her mother didn’t allow unchaperoned shopping, which basically meant it wasn’t worth going.

Such strict rules and morals were hard to understand. Particularly since Gina seemed to be a good girl, genuinely concerned about what her parents and uncle thought. Even the way she’d wanted to dress had more to do with normal and healthy rebellion than attracting male attention.

That was the thing that floored Mike the most. She didn’t even get how hot she was, or that men tripped over themselves watching her walk across the street. She was more interested in gawking at shop windows and staring at young women with blue hair and navel rings.

He checked his watch. Eighteen minutes. No sign of her coming down the escalator. He’d give her another two and then drag her out of the store.

After another five minutes, he took the escalator steps two at a time up to the lingerie department. He didn’t see her, and flagged a saleswoman.

“I’m looking for my friend,” he said. “Petite, dark hair, pretty—”

She smiled. “Italian accent?”

“That’s her.” The relief he felt was ridiculous. She was probably still in a fitting room.

“Yes, she went that way.” The woman pointed in the opposite direction of the escalator. “With two other gentlemen.”




4


“WE WERE SUPPOSED to meet at the bottom of the escalator a half hour ago.” Mike blew into his clammy palms. “Are the elevators and escalators the only ways to get to the first floor?”

The security guard nodded. “For shoppers.”

“What do you mean? Are there stairs we haven’t checked?”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Mason.” The older man glanced at the notes he’d taken so far. “We have a good description of her. We’ll find your daughter. How old did you say she is?”

“Twenty-three,” Mike muttered.

“What?”

“I never said she was my daughter.”

The man closed his notebook and glared. “Is this some kind of joke? We’re talking about a grown woman, not a kid?”

Mike shook his head. “No, definitely not. She’s new to the city—”

“So are a third of the people in this store.” The security guard crossed his arms over his big round belly. “I ought to have you arrested.”

“That’s absurd. On what charge?”

“Anything happens in this store, like a theft or something, while you have us distracted, and I gotta believe you were in on it.”

Mike groaned. The guy had one hell of an imagination. “Look, I’m telling you the truth. She’s Italian and she doesn’t speak much English.”

“Guess what, pal? Half the people who live in the city don’t speak English.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Mike!”

At the sound of her voice, he spun around.

She ran to him and threw her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest.

“Gina, are you okay?” He held her tightly and stroked her back when she refused to release him.

She mumbled something in Italian but wouldn’t look up.

Another security guard, tall and lanky, walked over and stood beside them. “She’s fine,” he said, exchanging a look with his paunchy co-worker then glancing around at the gathering crowd. “She just had a little fright, is all.”

“Those two guys have anything to do with it?” Mike asked, a fury rising in him he didn’t know he possessed.

She looked up. “They said you sent them to find me. That you had an accident.”

Mike stared down at her pale face. “Did they hurt you?”

She shook her head. “I punched the short skinny one.”

He swallowed a startled laugh and then glanced at the taller security guard. “Did you catch them?”

The man’s grim face was answer enough. “If you want to file a report, let’s go to the office.”

“No.” Gina straightened and stepped away from Mike. “We are going to Central Park.”

“But, Gina—”

“They ran. You will not catch them. And if Zio Antonio finds out what happened, I will be on a plane back to Italy.”

She had a point. Mike looked at the security guard again. The man shrugged. The other one was trying to break up the interested group of onlookers.

“I want to go now, please.” Her accent was heavier, probably because she was upset. In her eyes was an odd mixture of pleading and determination. Her mind was clearly made up.

“Okay, but you stick close to me. Got it?”

She nodded enthusiastically and slipped her arm through his.

He pulled her closer still, unsure of what he was more afraid of—her or the unknown.



“I WANT ANOTHER hot dog.” Gina dug into the pocket of her jeans for money. “And a Coca-Cola with lots of ice.”

“You’re going to be sick.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

“Because you’ve already had two Cokes, a hot dog and popcorn.”

“Yes, and?” She passed the vendor her money and then doused her hot dog with mustard and relish.

She had the most incredible appetite for a woman, especially one her size. Of course she did a good job of burning off calories. He got winded just watching her play Frisbee with the two twelve-year-old boys they’d met earlier. She ran and dove for her catches as if the free world depended on her.

No wonder she was in such excellent shape. The woman could move. Hell, she’d even gotten him off his ass to catch a few throws.

She took a big bite of the hot dog and ended up with mustard on the tip of her nose. He got it off with his thumb. She smiled and took a gulp of Coke. Not Diet Coke, but the real stuff.

That was another thing he liked about her. How she did everything with such gusto, totally unselfconscious. There was no worrying about how she looked or acted. When she got excited about something, the whole world knew it, and she didn’t seem to care.

And God knows, she got excited a lot. Her accent would get thick and she’d throw in a few Italian words. Mike understood some of them from listening to Antonio and his two brothers-in-law, Augie and Lorenzo, talking at the office.

“Let’s go find some shade.” He carried the bag with her skirt and the other pair of jeans they’d bought.

The sack with her lingerie purchase got lost in the scuffle she’d had with the two men, and Mike had to ruthlessly push the reminder aside. There was nothing he could do except get angrier than he could remember ever getting in his life.

It wasn’t only about being responsible for her welfare on Antonio’s behalf. But the idea that her trust and innocence could be stolen by two low-life jerks made his blood boil. That it could happen practically under his nose made him feel guilty as hell.

But to her credit, she was resilient. She hadn’t let the incident affect her mood. When Mike had mentioned how admirably she was handling things, she’d looked at him with round trusting eyes and said she’d never be frightened with him near to keep her safe.

Fool that he was, his ego had inflated like a balloon. And then headed straight back to guilt. What if something had happened to her? What if—

“We will sit here?” She stopped at an oak tree, its roots bulging from the ground. But that didn’t stop her from finding a narrow spot in the grass.

She plunked down and then patted the area beside her. He didn’t have much choice. He settled in close. Too close.

“I like Central Park very much.” She smiled at him. “We can come again, yes?”

“I don’t know. You wear me out.”

She frowned.

“I’m kidding.”

“Oh.” She took the last bite of her hot dog and wiped her mouth.

His gaze lingered on her lips. Moist and peach-colored, they alone got his adrenaline pumping. Her tongue darted out to swipe a tiny crumb from the corner of her mouth, and he had to look away.

“What kind of exercise do you do?”

He brought his gaze back to meet her curious eyes. “Exercise?”

She nodded. “Everyone needs to exercise.”

“I get enough running around the office.”

She made a face. “That is not the same thing.”

“I work a lot of hours. I don’t have time.”

“Does my uncle work you that hard?”

Mike snorted. “I work me that hard.”

“That is not good,” she said, shaking her head with concern. “Do you swim?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t for a while.”

She extended her hands behind her and leaned back. The reclining position showed off her flat belly and made her breasts jut out. “Tomorrow, we will swim.”

Amused at her confidence, he asked, “Where?”

“You do not know of a place?” She frowned, and then her eyes brightened. “Coney Island. I read about it on the airplane.”

He hadn’t been there in years. “Maybe.”

“Why maybe?”

“Because I have a lot of work to catch up on. I thought you could go to the library for the morning and—”

She groaned. “I can go to the library at home. I want to see New York.”

Great. “We can’t go out every minute.”

“Why not?”

He laughed. “Look, how about if you go to the office with me and use my computer while I get some paperwork out of the way, and then we’ll spend the afternoon out.”

“At Coney Island?”

“I was thinking a museum. The Guggenheim?”

“Oh, yes, that is on my list.”

“Oh, great, you have a list.” He sighed. “You have any rest time on that list?”

She laughed. “Come,” she said, sitting up straight and then scooting backward until her back rested against the tree trunk.

“Where?”

“Here.” She tugged at his sleeve until he leaned toward her. “Closer.”

What the hell was she doing? Knowing it was trouble, he shifted his butt a foot closer.

She put an arm around his shoulder and urged him to put his head on her lap. He resisted, but she gave him a smile that sent his resolve floating off in the warm breeze.

“What? You think I’m too old to keep up? I need a nap?”

“Yes.”

“Hey.” He started to lift his head.

Laughing, she splayed her fingers through his hair and gave it a small tug, forcing him to rest his head on her thighs. He complied, but she left her fingers in his hair and gently massaged his scalp.

He briefly closed his eyes at the soothing sensation.

“This is not a good idea,” he finally said, yet made no move to get up.

“Why not?”

He opened his eyes. She looked down at him in innocent confusion, her fingers continuing to work their magic. “You don’t know?”

She blinked. “Papa used to like when I rubbed his scalp. He said it relaxed him.”

Mike snorted. Obviously her mind wasn’t in the gutter with his. God, he was a dope.

Her fingers stilled. “But I never got a funny feeling in my stomach with Papa.”

Mike sat up.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, her eyes filled with genuine concern.

He shook his head as he got to his feet. Was she really this naive? “We’d better start back. In another hour it’s going to be tough to get a cab.”

She held out her hand and he pulled her to her feet. Without warning, she kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for the nice day.”

“Don’t mention it.” He quickly backed away.

“Scusi.” She made a sound of impatience. “Excuse me, I do not understand. I did something wrong?”

He smiled. “It’s a term that means what I did was nothing. Don’t give it another thought.”

“Oh, but that is not true.” She slid her arms around his waist and looked up into his eyes. “You have given me the perfect day.”

“Yeah, well, I’m glad you liked it.” He tried to disengage her arms. “I don’t think you should be doing that.”

She held on tightly. “Why? Because you make my stomach, um, what is the word? Jump? Flutter?”

“Gina.” He drawled her name into a warning she ignored.

“Mike?”

“Yes?” He took a step back. She moved along with him.

“Can I ask for one more thing?”

“What?” he asked slowly, his gaze hopelessly tangled with hers.

“Will you kiss me?”

His gaze stayed locked with hers another moment, until he realized he was actually thinking about giving in. “Holy shit! Gina, don’t even think about stuff like that.”

She blinked. “Why?”

“Because.”

“You have a girlfriend?” She slackened her hold.

“No.”

“Good.” She tilted her head back farther and closed her eyes. “You can kiss me now.”

The sun shining on her lips made them glisten. He swallowed. “No kissing.”

She opened her eyes again, hurt gathering like storm clouds. “You do not like me. You think I am too much trouble.”

“Of course not.”

She dropped her arms and moved back. “That is all right. I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” He hated the hurt look on her face. What had she been told by her parents? Or maybe it was the nuns who’d undermined her confidence. “It’s just that it’s too public here.”

She stared at him, her eyes growing wide, and then her lips curved in an expectant smile. “You must be planning some kiss.”

Mike groaned. She’d probably been asking for a peck. Now she’d expect much more. Gee, no pressure here.



“ROBERT, WAIT UP.” Mike shot up from his desk to catch him before he disappeared for the day.

“Coffee. I need coffee right away.” Robert turned and headed for the office’s small kitchen.

Mike followed, but stopped at Augie’s office when he noticed the door was open. “I didn’t know you were in already. We could have had a coffee together.”

Augie shrugged and stared down at the newspaper spread across his desk. “I had a lot of stuff to catch up on.”

Mike frowned. Yeah, Augie looked as if he were really busy. What the hell was going on? Augie always had time for coffee with him, even if only to find out what was happening with sales so he could try to stay on top of things.

“No problem,” Mike said. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Augie looked up briefly and went back to his paper. Mike continued to the kitchen, his concern growing, but waited until his friend poured a cup of the strong black brew. It was pretty early. For Robert, anyway. “Your office or mine?” Robert asked after he’d taken a sip.




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