Page 79 of The Man with a Treasure

Over the humming, Sal’s voice bounced off his bathroom walls, “Yes, Italian woman. Sing that siren song. Call to your man—”

Cough. Cough.

Sal’s matches—that he was using to light candles around a garden tub—flew into the air. “Oh, hey, Angelo. I, uh, didn’t expect you so soon.”

Scarlett giggled as the matches plopped into the bathwater she was soaking in.

Knowing she was naked under the abundance of bubbles, I snarled, “Sal, what are you doing?”

Appearing guilty as sin, he opened his mouth but stopped when seeing Scarlett lift a long leg of perfection from the water, bubbles dripping. Scarlett no longer looked nor sounded like the naïve version we had known when she watched the washing machine. Now, she was almost seductive as she sighed, “He is helping me enjoy your gift.” She smiled at me in a way she had never done before. It was slightly tempting. “Thank you for my bubbles and candles. Sal told me that you had Mae bring them for me.”

My eyes raced to his. He was giving me full credit.

Gesturing to Scarlett, he growled in delight, “Isn’t she ravishing?”

“Sal,” Scarlett rubbed her leg with long swipes as if she were enjoying being sensual, “if you are not praying, you said you will speak English.”

His eyebrows danced to me, something I hadn’t seen in some time. “Oh, I am praying, my Dove.”

Ignoring his innuendo, I inquired, “Dove?”

“Yes,” he faced Scarlett while answering, “our injured bird is morphing into a beautiful dove.”

Sal had been so pleased with her gaining weight and losing the dark circles under her eyes, and I, focused on keeping her safe and not allowing my growing feelings a foothold, hadn’t even noticed her changes. She had always been striking to me.

Gasp! “Beautiful?” Her eyes raced to mine. “Do you think I am beautiful, Angel?”

Long black hair floated in the water as if Scarlett was a living Goddess.

Trying to act unaffected by the most incredible being to walk the Earth, ever, my head bobbled as I crossed my arms, attempting to lean against the door jamb. When I missed, I stumbled into the bathroom.

Of course, that had Sal informing her, “That was a yes, Dove.” He held his arms wide. “You look so divine I want to jump in that bath with you—”

Snarl.

“But I won’t.” He faced me. “Mr. Angelo Bianchi, would you do the honors of accompanying Miss Scarlett Giordano? I just heard my oven timer go off.”

What is he talking about? “I didn’t hear any—”

“Perfecto!”

More eyebrow dancing commenced as Sal slid past me at the door.

I sneered at him. “I’m going to kill you with your own gun.”

“Then I shall curse you to see my face every time you jack-off.”

I recoiled in horror. “You wouldn’t.” His mamma was with the gift. I wasn’t daring enough to doubt the possibility of him being the same.

And he knew it. “Try me and see.” A full-blown smirk was the last thing I saw before he dimmed the lights and then shut the door in my face.

I went for the door to leave until I heard, “Neither of you were praying, were you?”

Maybe I should chance killing him. “Uh… no, we weren’t.” I faced her. “Wouldn’t you rather be alone to enjoy your bath?”

She got quiet in thought. “Being alone scares me.”

An ache erupted in my chest.