“Some people’s necks got twisted and damn near fell off as they turned to look at you when you walked through the door,” Luigi confided. “Some broke their spines gawking.”
Camille’s laughter rang out, louder than he expected. She caught herself a moment later and stifled it.
“Now do you imagine they were happy about that?” Luigi asked.
Her mirth, which she had fought valiantly to tamp down, rose again.
“And there was your friend,” Luigi continued, “Holding your hand, his head still on his shoulders and his spine straight and unbroken. You don’t think that won him any favors among the men here, do you?”
Camille shook her head, still laughing.
“So I swooped in to save the day, taking from him the very treasure that would have put him in danger. And what do I get from her?”
Camille reached across the table to grab his hands and stop him from going further.
That didn’t work. “Not one word of thanks!” Luigi said.
She laughed harder, louder, drawing brief glances from curious clubbers.
For the rest of the night, as they shared drinks and Cuban cigars, Luigi wrung more laughter from her. By the time they rose to leave, she was comfortable enough to hold on to his hand as he guided her down the stairs and out of the club.
Dante had the car waiting by the entrance. Luigi opened the door and helped her in before getting in after her.
“Where are we going?” she asked, a little breathless.
“Your place,” he told her.
So she gave the address and relaxed into the plush leather seat, very close to him.
Not much was said afterward, until Dante pulled up at an apartment complex.
Luigi went up the elevator with her to the fifth floor to see her safely to her door. After she unlocked it, she turned to him with a smile. “Do you want to come in?”
He was taken aback by the question and searched her features for any hint of mischief that would tell him she was pulling his leg. There was none.
Her eyes were big, blue, and guileless, her lips slightly parted and inviting. Her—
Luigi kissed her.
He had wanted to do it for a while now, to taste those lips, to explore them and to claim them. And he did just that, teasing her first with the tip of his tongue, tracing a path along the curve of her lower lip, drawing a gasp from her, and then taking herfull lips, sucking on them lightly, one after the other, the bottom and then the top, plunging into her mouth with his tongue and tasting the champagne on hers before withdrawing and leaving her breathless.
“Do you still want me to come in?” he asked.
“Do you want to?” she replied in a husky voice.
CHAPTER 3
“Yes,” Luigi said even though every instinct told him not to.
For the first time in a really long time, he’d lost control and done something he hadn’t planned to do. Clearly, he needed to rein in his urges.
The kiss was supposed to be a goodnight kiss, bestowed only after she’d unlocked her door. He was supposed to leave for home immediately after. Yet once she unlocked her door, he followed her in, smiling sheepishly like a bewitched man.
There was something exciting about her. He couldn’t tell if it was her defiance or her ability to exchange words with him, to offer a smile that could mean a lot of things other than a simple expression of humor.
“I’m sorry it’s nothing compared to your grand house,” she said now, waving at her living room.
It was a simple affair: two tan cushions formed an L, a small orange wine chair stood to the side, and next to it, a yellow bookcase for contrast.
