Читать онлайн книгу «The Last Santini Virgin» автора Maureen Child
The Last Santini Virgin
Maureen Child
No woman was going to spring her mantrap on Sergeant Nick Paretti! And that included Gina Santini. They'd agreed to publicly play boyfriend/girlfriend, and Nick had never intended to keep up the pretense in Gina's bedroom.But her luscious mouth left him poised before a pleasure-precipice he couldn't resist. So he dived in–and took Gina's virginity with him. The beautiful temptress claimed she was after experience–not marriage–but her heart obviously disagreed. Meanwhile, something told Nick the guards at his heart had thrown down all their weapons and surrendered….
“Why Didn’t You Tell Me You Were A Virgin?”
“Why would I?” Gina snapped.
“Because it would have been fair to warn me!”
“Warn you? So you were expecting me to maybe wear a sign around my neck? How about ‘Virgin— Deflowering Required’?”
“You should have told me,” Nick said simply, shooting her an icy glance.
She would not feel guilty about this, Gina told herself. Every woman had the right to choose when and where and with whom she lost her virginity. She’d chosen Nick.
Nick buttoned his jeans, then looked her directly in the eyes. “If I’d known, nothing would have happened here tonight.”
“Then I’m glad I didn’t tell.” Because no matter how things were going now, the actual sex part of the evening had been spectacular. For a few brief wonderful moments she’d actually felt connected to Nick. And certainly every couple’s “forever” began with a moment’s connection….
Dear Reader,
Silhouette is celebrating our 20th anniversary in 2000, and the latest powerful, passionate, provocative love stories from Silhouette Desire are as hot as that steamy summer weather!
For August’s MAN OF THE MONTH, the fabulous BJ James begins her brand-new miniseries, MEN OF BELLE TERRE. In The Return of Adams Cade, a self-made millionaire returns home to find redemption in the arms of his first love.
Beloved author Cait London delivers another knockout in THE TALLCHIEFS miniseries with Tallchief: The Homecoming, also part of the highly sensual Desire promotion BODY & SOUL. And Desire is proud to present Bride of Fortune by Leanne Banks, the launch title of FORTUNE’S CHILDREN: THE GROOMS, another exciting spin-off of the bestselling Silhouette FORTUNE’S CHILDREN continuity miniseries.
BACHELOR BATTALION marches on with Maureen Child’s The Last Santini Virgin, in which a military man’s passion for a feisty virgin weakens his resolve not to marry. In Name Only is how a sexy rodeo cowboy agrees to temporarily wed a pregnant preacher’s daughter in the second book of Peggy Moreland’s miniseries TEXAS GROOMS. And Christy Lockhart reconciles a once-married couple who are stranded together in a wintry cabin during One Snowbound Weekend….
So indulge yourself by purchasing all six of these summer delights from Silhouette Desire…and read them in air-conditioned comfort.
Enjoy!
Joan Marlow Golan
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
The Last Santini Virgin
Maureen Child
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For my cousin, Kathy Carberry Makowski,
who, like the rest of us, may get knocked down,
but always gets up.
MAUREEN CHILD
was born and raised in Southern California and is the only person she knows who longs for an occasional change of season. She is delighted to be writing for Silhouette Books and is especially excited to be a part of the Desire line.
An avid reader, Maureen looks forward to those rare rainy California days when she can curl up and sink into a good book. Or two. When she isn’t busy writing, she and her husband of twenty-five years like to travel, leaving their two grown children in charge of the neurotic golden retriever who is the real head of the household. Maureen is also an award-winning historical writer under the names Kathleen Kane and Ann Carberry.
Contents
Chapter One (#u9cf1d741-7e21-51b8-b41f-56493dd7ee1f)
Chapter Two (#u1bf8f02a-79d5-5c98-ad9b-898ce2c0ff55)
Chapter Three (#u984aeb8c-7dc7-59d1-97d8-408f7885f358)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
One
“Move that hand, Marine,” Gina Santini said firmly, “or lose it.”
Gunnery Sergeant Nick Paretti chuckled and slowly, deliberately, slid his hand higher up her back, away from her behind. “What’s the matter, princess?” he asked. “Do I make you nervous?”
Nervous didn’t quite cover it, she thought. For three and a half weeks, now, she’d been spending three nights a week in this man’s arms. And it wasn’t getting any easier.
Although she was annoyed by Nick’s arrogance, the real problem was her attraction to him. It was no use trying to argue with her own hormones. But for Heaven’s sake, how could she feel such electricity for a man who’d made it his life’s work to irritate her?
“You’re trying to lead again.” His deep voice shook her, as always, and she resented him for that, too.
Gina tilted her head way back and looked up into her dance partner’s eyes. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to lead if you’d remember the steps.”
“And maybe,” Nick nearly growled, “I’d remember the steps if you wouldn’t quit changing the rhythm on me.”
She inhaled deeply and counted to ten. Then twenty. Nope, she was still mad. She tried to drag her right hand free of the man’s iron grip, but it was like trying to pull a train with a compact car. Ballroom dance lessons had seemed like such a good idea a month ago. But how could she have known that she’d be paired with a man too tall, too broad and too stubborn?
“Look, General,” she said.
“Gunnery Sergeant,” he corrected her. “Or Nick.”
Apparently, he was feeling magnanimous tonight.
“Nick,” she said, trying to sound cooperative, “we’re both paying a lot of money for these lessons. Don’t you think we should be working together to get the most out of them?”
“I’m doing my share, honey,” he told her, his blue eyes staring steadily into hers. “Our problems start when you try to do my share, too.”
Okay, so she had a little problem with leading and following. But that was better than letting him indulge his tendency to stomp her toes into oblivion.
“Fine,” she said. “You lead. Only this time try not to crush my toes.”
One black eyebrow lifted. “If you didn’t have such big feet, they wouldn’t be in the way.”
Gina stiffened. She was just a little sensitive about the size of her feet. Was it her fault that her mother’s size-four feet had not been handed down to her? “Believe it or not,” she said tightly, “no one else in the world has trouble avoiding my toes.”
“Luck,” he muttered.
“And don’t call me honey,” she snapped.
Gina’s gaze drifted around the room. Five other couples seemed to be gliding effortlessly across the highly polished wood floor. No one else appeared to be battling constantly with their partner. “Do we have to argue our way through every lesson?” she whispered more to herself than to him.
“No argument here, princess,” Nick said, bending his head toward hers and keeping his voice low, “as long as you admit that I’m the man and I’m supposed to lead.”
Was he going to grunt and pound his chest next?
“So,” he asked as the music swelled around them, “you ready now?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she said.
“Let’s get it done, then.” He paused, and she watched him listening to the music, catching the beat. Then he took a deep breath and threw them both into the deep end of the dancing pool. As they executed their first turn, he gave her a fleeting half smile.
Lucky for her it was gone so fast, she thought as she silently acknowledged the thud of her heartbeat. Those occasional smiles of his were nerve-racking. No other man had ever affected her like this. And Gina wasn’t at all sure she liked it. On the other hand, there didn’t seem to be much she could do about it.
The moment they’d been assigned to each other as partners, there’d been fireworks. Not the nice, safe, pretty ones you saw at choreographed Fourth of July shows. Nope, these were down-and-dirty, completely illegal, bottle-rocket fireworks. Hot flashes, brilliant light and a breathtaking sense of imminent danger.
Gina gulped in a breath, pushed that thought right out of her head and concentrated on the present situation. The overhead fluorescent lights seemed to blur slightly as they danced. On the hardwood floor, the colorful shadows of the moving couples swayed and dipped as if there were another world beneath the floor and Gina and Nick, as well as all the others, were the actual reflections.
“You know, we’re getting pretty good at this,” he murmured, and his voice rumbled along her spine.
“Don’t get cocky,” she warned just before they stumbled slightly.
He scowled at her. “A little positive thinking wouldn’t be out of line, here.”
A little rhythm wouldn’t hurt, either, she thought, but didn’t say. Why was he doing this? she wondered for probably the hundredth time since being assigned Nick Paretti as a dance partner. She had a perfectly good reason for being there, of course. She loved dancing. At least she had until recently.
But he was a mystery. A big, burly Marine, from his military-cut, black hair to the spit shine on his exceptionally heavy shoes, he just didn’t seem the type to sign up for dance class. Hand grenades, yes. Waltzes, no.
Plus, he was way too good-looking for comfort. Black hair, piercing blue eyes, square jaw; a nose that looked as though it had been smacked once or twice—she could understand why—and a mouth that could curve into a mocking smile that practically curled her toes.
Oh, my.
The music ended, and Gina stepped back out of his arms. Instantly she felt the loss of him and told herself it meant nothing. She was simply used to the feel of him pressed against her.
“That went well, I think,” their teacher, Mrs. Stanton, called from her spot at the edge of the dance floor. The woman’s bright-blond hair was swept back into a tight knot at the top of her head, and as she walked into the crowd of dancers, her full skirt swished and swirled around her knees. “Most of you seem to be progressing nicely,” she added, then shot Nick a look that was pure female admiration, and Gina wanted to kick something. “But, ladies, you must remember to trust your partner. The dance floor is not the place for a battle of the sexes.”
“Hmm,” Nick wondered aloud. “You suppose she meant that one for you?”
“Don’t you have to invade a country somewhere?” Gina asked sweetly.
He laughed and shook his head.
“Now, class,” Mrs. Stanton said as she walked back toward the small stereo set up in the corner, “the cha-cha.”
“Oh, man…” Nick’s disgusted groan was just the thing to cheer Gina up.
“What’s the matter, General? Scared?” she asked.
“Sergeant. Gunnery Sergeant, as a matter of fact.” He gave her a glare. “I’ve mentioned it a time or two already.”
She shrugged. “Like it matters.”
“Lady,” he said, inhaling deeply enough to swell his already broad chest to massive proportions. “You are—”
“Better at the cha-cha than you?” she said, interrupting him.
He gave her a fierce scowl. “That’ll be the day.”
“Why, General,” Gina said with a grin, “I do believe that’s a challenge.”
“Take it any way you want,” he said, and reached out to grab her.
“Oh, very smooth,” Gina taunted as he pulled her closely against him.
“You know,” he said thoughtfully as he stared down into her eyes, “you’re the reason there is a battle of the sexes.”
Gina put her left hand on his shoulder and slipped her right hand into his left. “Right. Gina Santini is the mother of all problems between the sexes.”
“Not you personally,” he continued, and held her right hand a little tighter than necessary. “Women like you.”
“Ah,” she said with a nod and a teasing smile, “women who don’t swoon at you warrior types?”
He took a deep breath, blew it out again and asked, “Are we going to dance or what?”
She batted her eyelashes at him and said, “I’m waiting for you. You’re the fearless leader, remember?”
Grumbling under his breath, Nick started moving to the rhythm of the music. Gina concentrated on following his lead rather than trying to plot their course around the floor. She knew he hated the cha-cha, but she loved it. There was something about the way he held her for this dance. The way their hips moved against each other.
Uh-oh. Better not go there.
They executed a turn, and she silently admitted that her generation was missing a lot with all of the wild, contortionist dances that were so popular now. There was so much more to be said for the closeness of ballroom dancing.
Too much, really, she thought as she felt Nick’s pelvis move against her. Fires stirred within and she closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she met his gaze and saw flickers of heat shifting in his eyes. One of his hands dropped to the curve of her behind, and Gina would have sworn she felt the brand of each of his fingertips.
“Much better, Sergeant and Gina,” Mrs. Stanton called out as they cha-cha’d past her.
Gina automatically stiffened her spine and lifted her chin.
“Teacher’s pet,” Nick mumbled with a brief smile.
“Delinquent,” she muttered.
“How’d you guess?”
“What?”
“That I was a delinquent when I was a kid.”
Was he serious? He practically had Bad Boy stenciled on his forehead. “I’m psychic.”
“Too bad you’re not a tall psychic,” he said.
Five foot five wasn’t exactly an amazon, but she didn’t qualify for kids’ ticket prices at the movies, either. “I’m not short,” she told him. “You’re abnormally tall.”
“I’m only six-four, which is hardly Godzilla.”
“Depends on your point of view.”
He blew out an exasperated sigh. “I wasn’t trying to start World War III,” he complained. “I’m just saying I’m getting a crick in my neck looking down at you.”
“Well looking up all night isn’t a picnic, ya know.”
Ridiculous to argue over nothing, but it was certainly safer than concentrating on how he was making her feel. Their hips moved against each other again, and Gina flushed, her body awakening to the closeness of Nick’s.
Was dancing supposed to be this sexy? Nick wondered as he pressed Gina even closer to him, hoping as he did so that she couldn’t feel the arousal tightening the fit of his slacks. She felt so small, so defenseless in his arms. Yet even as that thought entered his mind, he wanted to chuckle. Gina? Defenseless? Yeah, like a hungry tiger.
This tiny woman was able to give as good as she got, and he’d found himself almost looking forward to their three-times-a-week shoot-outs. She had a smart-alecky, completely kissable mouth, a compact body that curved in all the right places and a head harder than his.
All in all, just the kind of woman he’d be interested in if he was looking for a woman, which he wasn’t. Now he supposed most men wouldn’t be captivated by a woman who argued anything at the drop of a stick. But Nick had been raised in a good old-fashioned Italian family, where love was measured in octaves reached while yelling.
His mother had told him once that arguments were the spice of married life. And if she’d been telling the truth, then his folks had had one spicy marriage for the past thirty-six years. He smiled to himself as memories crowded into his brain. His two brothers, his parents and himself, seated at the dinner table, arguing about politics, religion, history or even, on a slow day, who was stronger, Superman or Mighty Mouse. The Paretti house was loud, but it was happy.
The cha-cha ended, and the couples on the floor slowly stopped, turning toward Mrs. Stanton, awaiting instructions. Nick dropped Gina’s hand, then curled his own fingers into a fist so he didn’t notice how empty his hand felt without hers in it.
“That’s all for tonight, everyone,” the teacher said.
He ignored the shaft of disappointment that sliced through him. Two hours passed mighty damn quickly in this place.
“But I want you all to think about something,” she went on. “The Bayside Amateur Dance Competition is next month, and we’ve been invited to enter three couples from our class.”
A ripple of conversation rose up and then faded as Mrs. Stanton continued. “Next week I’ll be selecting the three couples who will represent my little dance school, so do your very best, and good luck to you all.”
He caught the excited gleam in Gina’s eyes.
A competition?
In public? Oh, he didn’t think so.
Two
Once class ended, Nick walked outside, barely listening to Gina’s stream of chatter. He kept envisioning himself dancing in public. And those mental pictures were enough to give him chills.
Hell, the whole reason he was taking these classes was because of what had happened the last time he’d danced in public. It was at last year’s Marine Corps Ball. In front of everyone. In a flash he remembered it all.
A crowded room, hundreds of people and him, dancing with a major’s wife. Or rather, trying to dance. She’d cajoled him into it, and he’d reluctantly given in. But as the dance had gone on, he’d almost relaxed…until the moment he’d spun her. Somehow she’d slipped free, and he’d watched, helplessly, as she’d sailed directly into the punch bowl.
Nick swallowed a groan at the memory and quickly pushed the rest of it aside. He really didn’t want to remember the crash of the punch bowl, the splash of liquid, the major’s wife’s screech or the image of the poor woman sitting on the dance floor drenched in ruby-red punch.
Instead he clearly recalled the meeting he’d had a week later with the major.
“You cost me about $250, Gunny,” the officer had said. “It seems even a talented dry cleaner can’t get red punch out of ivory silk.”
Standing at ease, but certainly not feeling it, Nick offered, “I’d be happy to pay to replace the dress, sir.”
“Not necessary,” the Major told him as he stood up from behind his desk and walked around to stop just inches from him. “But I suggest you make sure this never happens again.”
“It won’t, sir,” Nick assured him. “I’ll avoid the dance floor at all costs.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Sir?”
The Major perched on the edge of his desk, crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “You know as well as I do that ‘attendance is expected, and body movement at these things will be noticed.’”
Nick winced internally. The Corps couldn’t order a man to show up and dance, but they managed to get the point across, anyway.
“So before you toss some other poor woman into a punch bowl, I suggest, Gunnery Sergeant,” the man said in a low growl, “that you learn what to do on a dance floor.”
Panic, clean and sharp, whistled through him as he realized what the officer was telling him to do. “You can’t be serious, sir. Dance lessons?”
The other man stared at him for a long minute before asking, “Do I look like I’m kidding?”
Nick groaned tightly at the memory before tucking it into a dark corner of his mind. Hell. He had to be the first Marine in history to have been ordered into a dance class. Well, technically not “ordered.” He’d been “suggested” into it. He would much rather the Major had sentenced him to a few thirty-mile hikes. Or had him transferred to Greenland.
But, no. That would have been too easy a punishment.
Instead Nick was stuck practicing to be a second-rate Fred Astaire. And, oh, man, what his friends would say if they knew what he was up to. For weeks after the punch bowl incident, he’d put up with the teasing, the jokes, the near-constant barrage of abuse from his friends. Hell, if they ever found out that he was actually taking ballroom dance lessons, they’d never let him forget it. As for dancing in a contest? He’d probably have to resign from the Corps just to get some peace.
Nope. What he had to do was survive this stupid class then get back to being a full-time Marine.
Of course, when the classes were over, he wouldn’t be seeing Gina again. Surprising really, how much that realization bothered him.
A cold, damp breeze slinked in off the ocean and swept the rest of old memories and troubling thoughts from his mind. He returned his attention just in time to the short woman walking—or rather, running along beside him.
“Are you listening to me?” she asked, and judging from the exasperation in her tone, it wasn’t for the first time.
Nick stopped, looked down at her and shook his head. “If you’re still talking about that competition, no.”
She threw her hands wide and let them fall to her sides again. “Why not?”
That mouth of hers looked good even in a frown. Oh, no, he wasn’t going there. Leaving his hormones out of the equation, Gina Santini was not going to get to him. “A better question, princess, is why are you so hot to enter a contest with me when all you can do is complain about how badly I dance?”
The wind tossed her dark-brown curls around her face, and Gina reached up with one hand to push them back from her eyes. “You’re really not totally bad.”
Heartwarming. “Gee,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his words, “thanks.”
She pulled in a deep breath, which distracted him momentarily by drawing his gaze to the curve of her breasts, then she sighed dramatically. “It’s a contest,” she said as if that was enough to explain everything. “Don’t you want to win?”
That gleam in her eyes was back again, and a part of Nick admired her. He liked a good competition, too. He just preferred entering contests that he had some small chance of winning.
“We’re not good enough,” he said flatly, and started for his car again, hoping she’d drop the subject.
He should have known better.
Right behind him, he heard the heels of her shoes tapping against the asphalt as she trotted to keep up with his long-legged stride.
“We could be,” she said, “good enough, I mean.”
Nick laughed shortly.
“All we’d need is extra practice.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “for a year or two.”
“For Pete’s sake, General,” Gina said, and stepped in front of him, bringing him to a quick stop. “Do all Marines give up as easily as you?”
A quick flash of irritation swelled up inside him.
“Marines do not give up, princess,” he said, and loomed over her, which wasn’t hard since she was so darn short. “We simply choose our battles.”
“Uh-huh. Apparently only the ones you’re sure of winning.”
“Look,” he said, and threw his car a longing glance before looking at Gina again. Obviously, he wasn’t going to get out of here without yet another argument. And to think that only a moment ago he’d been bothered by the thought of never seeing her again. God. What had he done in his life to deserve this irritating, too-damned-attractive woman? Answer: he’d thrown a major’s wife into a punch bowl. “You said yourself all we do is argue. Do you really want to spend more time together?”
She folded her arms under her breasts and he absolutely refused to look. It wasn’t easy, but he kept his gaze locked with hers. One of her finely arched eyebrows went just a bit higher. “We wouldn’t argue so much if you weren’t so stubborn.”
“Hah! I’m stubborn?”
She gave him a look that would have fried a lesser man’s soul. Then, clearly disgusted, she asked, “Why am I even talking to you?”
“You got me, princess.”
“Will you stop calling me princess?”
“As soon as you stop acting like one.”
Her big brown eyes widened and then narrowed dangerously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Well, hell. He hadn’t really meant to say that out loud. “Never mind.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “Explain.”
“There’s no reason to go into any of this,” he hedged. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. He just didn’t want to enter that blasted contest. “It’s late. I’ve got to get back to base.”
She leaned back against his car and shook her head. For such a tiny woman, she had the look of an immovable object.
“You started this, Sergeant. Now you finish it.”
This was his own fault, he told himself. He never should have said what he was thinking. But Gina had a way of irking him like no one else he’d ever known.
He swept his gaze up and down her compact, curvy form before coming to rest on those beautiful brown eyes of hers. And damned if she didn’t know just how pretty she was, too. Oh, not that she seemed conceited, but there was a confidence about her that came from knowing she presented a hell of a picture. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized how right he was in his assessment of her. Pampered, spoiled, obviously used to getting her own way, she was completely unprepared for someone—anyone saying no to her.
“So, General,” she said, “do you explain, or do we stand here all night?”
All around them their fellow students were leaving the tiny parking lot. Overhead, dark clouds sailed across a black sky, obliterating the stars and threatening rain. Even in southern California, January weather could be unpredictable. And just in case it was going to start raining anytime soon, he decided to end this debate once and for all. If she wanted the truth that badly, she could have it.
“It means that I know you better than you think I do.”
“Oh, really?”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist, he told himself. She was Italian. So was he. And if there was one thing he knew, it was Italian families.
“Youngest in your family, weren’t you?”
She flinched slightly. “So?”
“The apple of daddy’s eye?”
She straightened up away from the car. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin, glared at him and asked, “Your point?”
Ah…direct hit.
“My point is that you’ve spent your entire life getting exactly what you want just by batting those gorgeous eyes of yours.” He leaned in closer and knew instantly it had been a mistake. Her perfume distracted him, but he steeled himself against that potent scent and finished what he had to say. “Well, it’s not gonna work with me, princess. We’re partners on that dance floor, because we’re stuck with each other. But you can save that wide-eyed, innocent look for the college boys, all right?”
It took her a minute to calm down enough to talk.
Then she started sputtering. “You are the single most irritating, annoying, overbearing, insulting—” She paused and bit her bottom lip.
A bottom lip he suddenly wanted to kiss more than he wanted to draw his next breath. The other couples were driving away, and the flash of headlights skimmed across her face and faded again, leaving only the dim glow of the yellow fog lights in the parking lot. Streamers of gray, damp fog drifted in from the ocean and twined around their legs, linking them together in an otherworldly grip.
Seconds passed, ticking by as they stared at each other. She was so close. Close enough to kiss. To touch. He lifted one hand, and as she leaned in toward him a car horn sounded, shattering the weird spell that had been cast over them.
She shook her head as if coming up out of a dream. “I, uh, have to go.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
She opened her mouth to say something more, but snapped it shut again a moment later. Then, without giving him another look, she turned around and marched off across the shadowy parking lot toward her car.
Nick watched her go and told himself he was only keeping an eye on her to see that she made it into her car safely. After all, a pretty woman, a deserted parking lot, it was the decent thing to do. But he was still standing there, staring after her, long after she’d pulled out of the lot and driven off.
The next day after work, Nick entered the Staff NCO club and headed down the wide hallway. Absently he took the short flight of steps, passed the small reception area and climbed five more steps to the darkened ballroom. As he stepped into the familiar club, he turned to his right and stopped just at the long mahogany bar. His gaze swept the shadow-filled room. A huge place, it looked nearly empty, with just a sprinkling of tables dotting the floor. But when the room was decked out for a ball or a party, the old club shone like a gem.
The few noncommissioned officers seated at the tables barely glanced his way. He recognized a few familiar faces in the bunch. But on a base the size of Pendleton, it wasn’t unusual to see a lot of strangers as well as friends.
He leaned his elbows on the bar, ordered a beer and, as he had been doing all day, relived those last few minutes in the dark with Gina. Gritting his teeth, he told himself for the thousandth time that he’d had no right to stomp on her feelings like that. So what if she irritated him? That didn’t give him leave to fire mortar rounds at her heart.
And, damn it, he was sure he’d seen her eyes go all teary.
Great, he thought as the bartender slid his beer in front of him. Big, strong Marine had made a woman cry.
He took a long swallow of beer and tried to rinse the taste of disgust from his mouth as another Marine entered the bar and walked up beside him. “Paretti?”
Half turning, he looked at the man, noted the insignia on his shirtsleeve and recognized him as another Gunnery Sergeant. “Yeah?”
The guy stuck out his right hand and said, “Thought it was you. I’m Davis Garvey.”
“I’ve seen you around,” Nick said with a nod as he shook the man’s hand, then turned to pay the bartender for his beer. Glancing back at Davis, he asked, “You want anything?”
“No, thanks,” he said, and waved the bartender off. “I’m on my way home. Just stopped in to look for you, actually.”
“Now why would you do that?” Nick asked, and took another sip of his drink, wishing the guy would leave so he could get on with torturing himself for picking on Gina.
The other man grinned and leaned one elbow on the bar. “Sort of promised my new sister-in-law I would.”
Nick looked at the guy, trying to figure out what was going on here. As far as he knew, he hadn’t dated any women lately who had brothers-in-law stationed at Pendleton. So it couldn’t be some defending-her-honor kind of thing. And if this was leading to a “shotgun wedding” scenario, the man would just have to go ahead and shoot him. No way was Nick Paretti getting married again. The phrase “been there, done that” roared across his mind.
“Okay,” he said after a minute or two of silence, “you have my attention. What’s up?”
Around them conversations flowed, Marines relaxed after a long hard day, and splashes of laughter shot through the air. But Nick wasn’t paying attention to any of it. Instead, he concentrated on the man now grinning like some damned fool.
“I hear,” Davis said, “you’ve been making Gina’s life miserable at dancing school.”
Panic, swift and sure, shot through him.
“Hey!” Nick spoke up quickly, then threw a fast glance at the Marines on either side of them to make sure they hadn’t been listening in. After all the trouble he’d been going to, to keep his dancing lessons a secret, he sure wasn’t about to stand there and let Davis Garvey announce it in the NCO club. Hell, the news would be all over base by morning.
He could almost hear the teasing and ribbing he’d be getting for the rest of his life if word got out. They would be calling him Sergeant Twinkle-Toes or something else just as humiliating. For Pete’s sake, he had to get Garvey out of there.
Wouldn’t you just know Gina would be involved in this? All of his guilty feelings melted away to be replaced by the irritation he usually felt for the woman.
“Why don’t we go outside to talk about this?” he suggested, and took a huge swallow of beer when he’d finished talking.
Davis’s grin broadened, and his eyes held a knowing gleam. Yep, he knew exactly why Nick was trying to get him to leave the club. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m happy right here.”
Scowling at his fellow sergeant, Nick muttered, “Look, I’m not going to talk about it in here, all right?”
Then he turned around, marched out of the room and down the first flight of stairs like a man on the parade ground. He never looked back, never checked to be sure Garvey was following him. Just kept walking, across the reception area, up the short flight of steps and out the doors into the late-afternoon gloom. Nick kept walking until he reached his car, and there he stopped, waiting.
In another minute or two Davis Garvey approached slowly, hands in his pockets, that damned smirk still on his face.
“All right, what’s this about?” Nick snapped.
“I told you. Gina.”
Figured. It wasn’t enough that she drove him crazy at class. Now she’d thought of a way to bother him at work, too. And to think he’d spent all day berating himself for hurting her feelings. “She’s your sister-in-law, you said?”
“Yep. I married her sister Marie a couple of weeks ago.”
“Congratulations,” Nick muttered, and silently wished the poor guy luck. He’d need it if his new wife was anything like her sister.
“Thanks.”
He didn’t want to insult the man’s family, but damned if Nick was going to stand there and not defend himself, either. “Since you’re related to her, you should know what Gina’s like.”
“Charming?” Davis suggested. “Beautiful? Funny?”
All of the above, Nick thought, and plenty more. “Don’t forget to add annoying, shrewish, bossy…” He paused, then asked, “Do I have to go on?”
“No,” Davis said on a laugh. Shaking his head slightly, he added, “I think I get the picture.”
“I’m not sure you do.”
“Look,” Davis said, “Gina said you’ve been giving her a hard time, so I thought I’d talk to you about it.”
Disgusted, Nick said, “Strange, she didn’t strike me as the kind of woman who needed someone else to fight her battles.”
“She isn’t,” Davis told him, and his smile was gone. “But she’s family now. And I look out for my family.”
Nick took the man’s measure and slowly nodded. He could understand family loyalty. “I’d do the same.”
“Then you’ll lighten up on Gina?”
“I’ll fire only if fired upon,” he said solemnly.
Davis smiled again. “Sounds fair enough to me.” He held out his right hand once more, and Nick took it in a firm shake. “Good to meet you, Gunny.”
“Same goes, Gunny,” Nick said.
But as the other man walked off toward his own car, Nick’s mind was racing. Gina Santini had called in reinforcements. Oh, maybe she hadn’t come right out and asked her brother-in-law to talk to him, but she’d probably expected him to. That meant she wasn’t retreating, only regrouping.
She may have won the first battle, but as far as Nick was concerned, the war was still on.
Three
Family-dinner night at the Santinis’ was always interesting. At least one night a week, no matter what else was going on in their lives, the Santinis came together over the dinner table. And for a couple of hours they caught each other up on the news, argued, laughed and ate themselves into a stupor.
Gina glanced around at the faces of her family and smiled to herself. Mama, of course, lonelier since Papa’s death two years ago, but still vibrant and deeply involved in whatever her daughters were up to. Then there was Angela, the oldest Santini sister. A widow herself, Angela and her son, Jeremy, had moved back home after her husband’s death three years ago. Jeremy was a great kid, Gina thought as her glance slid in his direction. And it was doing him a world of good to have Davis, Marie’s new husband, in the family. Jeremy’s father hadn’t been much good at the “family” thing. He’d made all of their lives miserable, and if anyone here was willing to admit it out loud, they’d have to say that Angela was actually happier as a widow than she had ever been when she was married.
But naturally no one would ever admit it.
Then there was Marie. Gina smiled to herself as she looked at the middle Santini sister. Since meeting and falling in love with Davis, Marie had really come into her own. Oh, she was still a great mechanic, and spent most of her time happily involved in some greasy job or other. But there was a sparkle in her eyes and a glow about her that hadn’t been there before Davis.
So basically, she told herself with an inward frown, every Santini at the table looked happy as a clam. Except of course, for her.
“I saw your Gunnery Sergeant Paretti today,” Davis said, and reached for the bowl of pasta.
Well, that came out of nowhere.
Gina looked at him. “He’s not my anything,” she said, and forked up a bite of salad.
“Yeah, well, I had a little talk with him, anyway,” her brother-in-law told her. He looked pretty pleased with himself about it, too.
Eyes wide, she hurriedly chewed, swallowed and said, “You talked to him? When? Where? What do you mean? What did you say?”
Davis shrugged, smiled at his wife, then looked back at Gina. “To answer your questions in order…after work, at the Staff NCO club, and I just told him you were my sister-in-law and I’d appreciate it if he’d back off.”
“Oh, great.” She dropped her fork with a clatter and sat back in her chair.
“Wasn’t that nice?” Mama asked no one in particular and reached out to pat Davis’s hand fondly.
“Nice?” Gina said, staring at her mother. “You think it’s nice?”
“What’s wrong with you?” Marie demanded. “Davis was just trying to help you out.”
“If he wanted to help,” Gina said, glaring at her sister, “then he should have simply run the man down in the street.”
“Oh,” Angela piped up, “there’s a plan.”
“Run who down?” Eight-year-old Jeremy asked.
“A nice Marine like Davis, dear,” Mama told him, and handed him more garlic bread. Unflappable, Mama let nothing interfere with dinner.
“No he’s not,” Gina said quickly.
“Nice?” Mama asked.
“Like Davis,” Gina clarified.
“What’s the big deal?” Angela asked as she poured her son more milk. “So Davis talked to him. You’re overreacting, Gina.”
“Big surprise,” Marie muttered.
“I am not overreacting,” Gina snapped. “How does this look? Now he thinks I went crying to my big brother-in-law wailing for help.”
“You did,” Marie reminded her, rising to her husband’s defense like a lioness defending its den.
“I did not,” she argued hotly, and shifted her gaze from Marie to Davis. “Did I ever ask you to talk to the man? Did I plead for your help?”
“No, but…” Davis squirmed in his chair.
Ordinarily Gina might have felt sorry for him, surrounded by women, the only other jolt of testosterone in the room coming from a boy too small to be on his side. But not tonight.
“Cut it out, Gina,” Marie said sharply. “Davis was trying to help you, for crying out loud. It’s your own fault. All you’ve done since starting those classes is complain about the man.”
Okay, so she’d complained a little. Wasn’t that one of the perks of having a family? They were supposed to let you rant and rave. She hadn’t noticed them rushing out to buy her new clothes when she complained about her wardrobe.
“Papa would have been pleased with what Davis did for you,” Mama said. “Family takes care of family.”
Oh, for pity’s sake, she made it sound like they were in the Mafia. What’s next? We send Nick a dead fish wrapped in newspaper?
“But…” Gina began.
“Davis went out of his way to find this guy, you know. He did you a favor. The least you could do is thank him.” Marie stared at her, silently waiting for Gina to do just that.
Five pairs of eyes watched her. She could hear the ticking of the mantel clock in the living room. No one moved. Damn it. Didn’t they understand that even though he’d meant well, Davis had just made a complicated situation even more difficult?
In an instant she recalled everything Nick had said to her after their last class. Spoiled. Pampered. Princess. Well, now, thanks to Davis’s well intentioned meddling, Nick would think himself proved right.
Why was her life suddenly so complicated?
Men, that’s why.
First, there had been Richard. A lawyer she’d dated long enough to convince her to take ballroom dancing lessons in order to fit into his social sphere. Unfortunately she’d stopped dating him before her second class. Though a perfectly nice man, they hadn’t shared enough chemistry to set off a sparkler.
Sparklers. Fireworks. Skyrockets.
The thought of which brought to mind the new male in her life. Nick Paretti. Her blood hummed in her veins. Her stomach pitched and rolled.
Oh, for Pete’s sake.
“Gina!”
Marie’s voice dragged her back to the moment at hand.
“You could at least pay attention when we’re arguing,” her sister said.
“Oh, I’m paying attention,” she muttered, then continued, “all I said was that Nick Paretti is a pain in the—”
“Gina.” Mama’s voice broke in, firmly.
She closed her mouth, sighed then said, “He’s a pain in the drain, that’s all.”
Mama nodded, satisfied.
Jeremy snickered until his mother shushed him. Apparently, he hadn’t been fooled by his aunt’s quick save.
“I only meant to help,” Davis said, looking directly into Gina’s eyes.
Instantly she regretted shouting at him. He had meant well. And if you stopped to think about it, it was really very sweet, him rushing in to play big brother. Boy, would she have loved having him around when she was a kid.
“I know,” she said, giving him a smile and letting him know he was forgiven. It wasn’t his fault she had such conflicting feelings for Nick. Then she forced herself to add, “Thanks, Davis. You’re a good brother.”
He grinned at her. “Yeah, I think I’m getting the hang of it.”
Conversation flowed again, swirling around and past Gina. No one seemed to notice that she wasn’t taking part.
“Okay, let’s have it,” Gina said as they left the dance studio.
“Have what?” Nick glanced up at the starry sky and shrugged deeper into the windbreaker jacket he wore.
“I’ve been waiting all night,” she said, and grabbed his arm to bring him to a stop.
Scowling, he turned his gaze down at her. He should have known they wouldn’t be able to go an entire night without an argument. Although, up until now the evening had gone fine. They’d hardly spoken and they’d danced better than ever. Maybe that was the secret to getting along with Gina Santini. No talking.
“Waiting for what?” he asked.
“For you to make some smart remark about my brother-in-law hunting you down on base.”
“Oh…” Nick nodded and immediately understood. She was wondering why he hadn’t said anything. But the truth was, he’d been doing a lot of thinking since Davis Garvey had spoken to him a few days ago. In fact, he’d been trying to figure out exactly why Gina Santini rubbed him the wrong way more often than not. He’d lost his temper more times since he’d met her than he had in the past five years. And that wasn’t like Nick at all.
Then last night the truth had finally dawned on him. Gina reminded him—too much—of his ex-wife. Oh, she didn’t look anything like her, and if truth be known, Gina was a helluva lot nicer than Kim had ever been. But there were too many similarities to ignore, too.
Both of them spoiled, used to getting their own ways and not above using their looks to do it. Every time Gina tried to flirt her way out of an argument, Nick’s defenses went on full alert. He’d fallen once for a woman with more looks than heart. He wouldn’t let it happen again.
As for her brother-in-law’s visit, there was no need to say anything about that. If Nick had been in the same position, he would have done the very thing Davis had. In the Paretti household they’d learned one lesson very early in life. Family comes first.
“Forget it,” he said finally, and saw wary relief wash over her features.
Obviously, she wanted to believe him, but didn’t.
“Why are you being so nice?”
“I can’t be nice without an ulterior motive?”
“I don’t know.”
Well, hell. Good to know she thought he was a complete jerk. “Look, why don’t we call a truce for the duration of the lessons?”
“A truce?”
“Yeah. You know, a cease-fire.”
“I know what it is, I’m just not sure why you’re offering one.”
He inhaled sharply and let the cold ocean breeze reach down inside him and quench his budding temper. Even when he was trying to be agreeable, she fought him. “We both want to learn these damned dances, right?”
“Right.”
“We don’t have to like each other. All we have to do is dance together.” There. He couldn’t make it plainer than that. “Deal?” He held out his right hand.
She stared at it for a long moment as if it were a snake in striking distance. Then she slipped her hand into his and said, “Deal.”
Warmth skittered up from their clasped hands, and Nick released her quickly. Then she flashed him a million-watt smile, and he had to firmly remind himself that it would be easy to resist her charms.
“As long as we’re being so friendly,” Gina said as they started again for their cars, “maybe you’d like to reconsider entering that competition.”
He snorted a laugh. A private truce was one thing. Announcing publicly that he was taking dancing lessons was quite another. “Not a chance, princess.”
“So much for a truce,” she muttered.
“I’m not entering that contest.”
“But we’re really getting good,” she argued.
“No way,” Nick said and shook his head for emphasis.
She took his arm and stepped in close. “You could at least think about it.”
Her perfume drifted to him, and he inhaled it deeply. Light, flowery, it seemed to fill his head with images of summer nights. Her hand on his arm felt warm and entirely too good. He didn’t dare risk a look at her. No doubt she was wearing her patented, “pouting for prizes” expression. And as much as he’d like to pretend he could easily resist it, he knew darned well it would be tough.
“Gunnery Sergeant Paretti?” A woman called out to him from off to their left.
Nick glanced her way and simply stared at the woman. Good Lord. The new Colonel’s wife. A thousand thoughts ran through his head in an instant. Would she know that he and Gina had come from the dance studio? No, he told himself. Close by, there was a theater, the Bayside Seafood Restaurant, an art gallery and a drugstore. They might have been in any of them. Nope. He was in the clear. Relaxing just a bit, he smiled and said, “Mrs. Thornton, ma’am. Good evening.”
“Hello,” she said and walked closer, smiling warmly at both Gina and him.
Gina.
Oh, man. How could he silently tell his dance partner to keep quiet about what they’d been up to?
“Mrs. Thornton, Gina Santini,” he said, unable to avoid introducing the two women.
“Nice to meet you,” Gina said.
“Thank you.” The Colonel’s wife smiled at the two of them again before saying, “My, what a lovely couple you make.”
Nick almost choked.
Gina actually chuckled.
“Taking in a movie?” The other woman asked.
Gina opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Nick said, “That’s right.”
Gina frowned up at him, but he ignored her and slipped his arm around her shoulder. If the Colonel’s wife believed he and Gina were a happy couple, then he’d just play along. It was certainly a better option than letting her know the truth.
“Well, I’m so glad I ran into the two of you,” Cecelia Thornton said.
“Ma’am?” Hurriedly, Nick tried to think of a way to get Gina and him out of there. But there was no polite way to leave the Colonel’s wife standing alone in a parking lot, so he could only hope to escape this meeting unscathed.
“As you know, we’re new on base…”
“Yes, ma’am.” He shot a glance at Gina. What was she thinking?
“The Colonel and I will be hosting a small get-together at our house in a couple of weeks for the staff NCOs and their wives. A barbecue, if the weather looks fine enough.”
Nick nodded. It was customary for a new officer to get to know the noncoms in his command.
“I look forward to it, ma’am.” He’d already heard about the coming party and had been planning on making an appearance and then leaving as soon as politely possible. Just like every other single Marine he knew. The married guys always stayed longer at these things, mainly because their wives were enjoying themselves too much to leave.
“I hope you’ll attend as Gunnery Sergeant Paretti’s guest, Gina,” the Colonel’s wife was saying, and Nick’s breath knotted in his chest. Okay, he hadn’t expected that. Maybe trying to look like a couple hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
“Well…” Gina stalled as she looked up at Nick.
Silently he attempted to tell her to say “thanks, but no thanks.” Giving her shoulder a hard squeeze, he tried to give the appearance of a solicitous boyfriend all the while, wiggling his eyebrows and scowling slightly in warning.
She knew what he wanted her to say. He could see it in her eyes. Naturally, though, she didn’t say it. Instead, she leaned into him, laid one hand on his chest and smiled at the Colonel’s wife. “Thanks so much for inviting me,” she said. “Nicky and I are looking forward to it.”
Nicky?
His mind blanked out briefly while he enjoyed the play of Gina’s fingers against his chest. Oh, she was really burying herself in the part, he thought as she cozied into him. And damn if it didn’t feel good, too.
A few more minutes passed while Gina and the Colonel’s wife chatted aimlessly. He didn’t even hear what was said. Nick’s mind whirled with thoughts of murder while he continued to play the good boyfriend.
When the other woman finally strolled off toward the drugstore, Nick grabbed Gina’s arm and turned her around to face him. “What was that all about? Didn’t you get that I was trying to tell you to say no to the invitation?”
“Of course I got it,” Gina said, and pulled away from him with a smile. “You’re not that hard to read.”
“Then why?”
“Because, Nicky,” she said, “something suddenly occurred to me.”
“Yeah…?” Oh, this didn’t bode well for him at all. She looked entirely too sure of herself.
She grinned up at him and pushed her dark-brown curls out of her eyes. Devilment shone in their chocolaty depths, and he knew he was in for it.
“You didn’t want her to know you were taking dance lessons, did you?”
Shoving his hands into his back pockets, he said shortly, “No, I didn’t.”
“That’s what I thought,” she said, nodding slowly.
“Now, why’d you agree to go the party?”
“So that I would have a good position to bargain from.”
Here it comes, he thought, and tried to brace for whatever was coming. Hell, he’d been in combat. Surely he could take whatever Gina Santini could dish out. “Bargain for what?”
“I’ll go to that party with you—” she paused and smiled “—and you’ll enter the dance contest with me.”
So much for bracing himself. “Whoa,” he said, and held up one hand. “Back up and regroup.”
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Maureen Child
No woman was going to spring her mantrap on Sergeant Nick Paretti! And that included Gina Santini. They'd agreed to publicly play boyfriend/girlfriend, and Nick had never intended to keep up the pretense in Gina's bedroom.But her luscious mouth left him poised before a pleasure-precipice he couldn't resist. So he dived in–and took Gina's virginity with him. The beautiful temptress claimed she was after experience–not marriage–but her heart obviously disagreed. Meanwhile, something told Nick the guards at his heart had thrown down all their weapons and surrendered….
“Why Didn’t You Tell Me You Were A Virgin?”
“Why would I?” Gina snapped.
“Because it would have been fair to warn me!”
“Warn you? So you were expecting me to maybe wear a sign around my neck? How about ‘Virgin— Deflowering Required’?”
“You should have told me,” Nick said simply, shooting her an icy glance.
She would not feel guilty about this, Gina told herself. Every woman had the right to choose when and where and with whom she lost her virginity. She’d chosen Nick.
Nick buttoned his jeans, then looked her directly in the eyes. “If I’d known, nothing would have happened here tonight.”
“Then I’m glad I didn’t tell.” Because no matter how things were going now, the actual sex part of the evening had been spectacular. For a few brief wonderful moments she’d actually felt connected to Nick. And certainly every couple’s “forever” began with a moment’s connection….
Dear Reader,
Silhouette is celebrating our 20th anniversary in 2000, and the latest powerful, passionate, provocative love stories from Silhouette Desire are as hot as that steamy summer weather!
For August’s MAN OF THE MONTH, the fabulous BJ James begins her brand-new miniseries, MEN OF BELLE TERRE. In The Return of Adams Cade, a self-made millionaire returns home to find redemption in the arms of his first love.
Beloved author Cait London delivers another knockout in THE TALLCHIEFS miniseries with Tallchief: The Homecoming, also part of the highly sensual Desire promotion BODY & SOUL. And Desire is proud to present Bride of Fortune by Leanne Banks, the launch title of FORTUNE’S CHILDREN: THE GROOMS, another exciting spin-off of the bestselling Silhouette FORTUNE’S CHILDREN continuity miniseries.
BACHELOR BATTALION marches on with Maureen Child’s The Last Santini Virgin, in which a military man’s passion for a feisty virgin weakens his resolve not to marry. In Name Only is how a sexy rodeo cowboy agrees to temporarily wed a pregnant preacher’s daughter in the second book of Peggy Moreland’s miniseries TEXAS GROOMS. And Christy Lockhart reconciles a once-married couple who are stranded together in a wintry cabin during One Snowbound Weekend….
So indulge yourself by purchasing all six of these summer delights from Silhouette Desire…and read them in air-conditioned comfort.
Enjoy!
Joan Marlow Golan
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
The Last Santini Virgin
Maureen Child
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For my cousin, Kathy Carberry Makowski,
who, like the rest of us, may get knocked down,
but always gets up.
MAUREEN CHILD
was born and raised in Southern California and is the only person she knows who longs for an occasional change of season. She is delighted to be writing for Silhouette Books and is especially excited to be a part of the Desire line.
An avid reader, Maureen looks forward to those rare rainy California days when she can curl up and sink into a good book. Or two. When she isn’t busy writing, she and her husband of twenty-five years like to travel, leaving their two grown children in charge of the neurotic golden retriever who is the real head of the household. Maureen is also an award-winning historical writer under the names Kathleen Kane and Ann Carberry.
Contents
Chapter One (#u9cf1d741-7e21-51b8-b41f-56493dd7ee1f)
Chapter Two (#u1bf8f02a-79d5-5c98-ad9b-898ce2c0ff55)
Chapter Three (#u984aeb8c-7dc7-59d1-97d8-408f7885f358)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
One
“Move that hand, Marine,” Gina Santini said firmly, “or lose it.”
Gunnery Sergeant Nick Paretti chuckled and slowly, deliberately, slid his hand higher up her back, away from her behind. “What’s the matter, princess?” he asked. “Do I make you nervous?”
Nervous didn’t quite cover it, she thought. For three and a half weeks, now, she’d been spending three nights a week in this man’s arms. And it wasn’t getting any easier.
Although she was annoyed by Nick’s arrogance, the real problem was her attraction to him. It was no use trying to argue with her own hormones. But for Heaven’s sake, how could she feel such electricity for a man who’d made it his life’s work to irritate her?
“You’re trying to lead again.” His deep voice shook her, as always, and she resented him for that, too.
Gina tilted her head way back and looked up into her dance partner’s eyes. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to lead if you’d remember the steps.”
“And maybe,” Nick nearly growled, “I’d remember the steps if you wouldn’t quit changing the rhythm on me.”
She inhaled deeply and counted to ten. Then twenty. Nope, she was still mad. She tried to drag her right hand free of the man’s iron grip, but it was like trying to pull a train with a compact car. Ballroom dance lessons had seemed like such a good idea a month ago. But how could she have known that she’d be paired with a man too tall, too broad and too stubborn?
“Look, General,” she said.
“Gunnery Sergeant,” he corrected her. “Or Nick.”
Apparently, he was feeling magnanimous tonight.
“Nick,” she said, trying to sound cooperative, “we’re both paying a lot of money for these lessons. Don’t you think we should be working together to get the most out of them?”
“I’m doing my share, honey,” he told her, his blue eyes staring steadily into hers. “Our problems start when you try to do my share, too.”
Okay, so she had a little problem with leading and following. But that was better than letting him indulge his tendency to stomp her toes into oblivion.
“Fine,” she said. “You lead. Only this time try not to crush my toes.”
One black eyebrow lifted. “If you didn’t have such big feet, they wouldn’t be in the way.”
Gina stiffened. She was just a little sensitive about the size of her feet. Was it her fault that her mother’s size-four feet had not been handed down to her? “Believe it or not,” she said tightly, “no one else in the world has trouble avoiding my toes.”
“Luck,” he muttered.
“And don’t call me honey,” she snapped.
Gina’s gaze drifted around the room. Five other couples seemed to be gliding effortlessly across the highly polished wood floor. No one else appeared to be battling constantly with their partner. “Do we have to argue our way through every lesson?” she whispered more to herself than to him.
“No argument here, princess,” Nick said, bending his head toward hers and keeping his voice low, “as long as you admit that I’m the man and I’m supposed to lead.”
Was he going to grunt and pound his chest next?
“So,” he asked as the music swelled around them, “you ready now?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she said.
“Let’s get it done, then.” He paused, and she watched him listening to the music, catching the beat. Then he took a deep breath and threw them both into the deep end of the dancing pool. As they executed their first turn, he gave her a fleeting half smile.
Lucky for her it was gone so fast, she thought as she silently acknowledged the thud of her heartbeat. Those occasional smiles of his were nerve-racking. No other man had ever affected her like this. And Gina wasn’t at all sure she liked it. On the other hand, there didn’t seem to be much she could do about it.
The moment they’d been assigned to each other as partners, there’d been fireworks. Not the nice, safe, pretty ones you saw at choreographed Fourth of July shows. Nope, these were down-and-dirty, completely illegal, bottle-rocket fireworks. Hot flashes, brilliant light and a breathtaking sense of imminent danger.
Gina gulped in a breath, pushed that thought right out of her head and concentrated on the present situation. The overhead fluorescent lights seemed to blur slightly as they danced. On the hardwood floor, the colorful shadows of the moving couples swayed and dipped as if there were another world beneath the floor and Gina and Nick, as well as all the others, were the actual reflections.
“You know, we’re getting pretty good at this,” he murmured, and his voice rumbled along her spine.
“Don’t get cocky,” she warned just before they stumbled slightly.
He scowled at her. “A little positive thinking wouldn’t be out of line, here.”
A little rhythm wouldn’t hurt, either, she thought, but didn’t say. Why was he doing this? she wondered for probably the hundredth time since being assigned Nick Paretti as a dance partner. She had a perfectly good reason for being there, of course. She loved dancing. At least she had until recently.
But he was a mystery. A big, burly Marine, from his military-cut, black hair to the spit shine on his exceptionally heavy shoes, he just didn’t seem the type to sign up for dance class. Hand grenades, yes. Waltzes, no.
Plus, he was way too good-looking for comfort. Black hair, piercing blue eyes, square jaw; a nose that looked as though it had been smacked once or twice—she could understand why—and a mouth that could curve into a mocking smile that practically curled her toes.
Oh, my.
The music ended, and Gina stepped back out of his arms. Instantly she felt the loss of him and told herself it meant nothing. She was simply used to the feel of him pressed against her.
“That went well, I think,” their teacher, Mrs. Stanton, called from her spot at the edge of the dance floor. The woman’s bright-blond hair was swept back into a tight knot at the top of her head, and as she walked into the crowd of dancers, her full skirt swished and swirled around her knees. “Most of you seem to be progressing nicely,” she added, then shot Nick a look that was pure female admiration, and Gina wanted to kick something. “But, ladies, you must remember to trust your partner. The dance floor is not the place for a battle of the sexes.”
“Hmm,” Nick wondered aloud. “You suppose she meant that one for you?”
“Don’t you have to invade a country somewhere?” Gina asked sweetly.
He laughed and shook his head.
“Now, class,” Mrs. Stanton said as she walked back toward the small stereo set up in the corner, “the cha-cha.”
“Oh, man…” Nick’s disgusted groan was just the thing to cheer Gina up.
“What’s the matter, General? Scared?” she asked.
“Sergeant. Gunnery Sergeant, as a matter of fact.” He gave her a glare. “I’ve mentioned it a time or two already.”
She shrugged. “Like it matters.”
“Lady,” he said, inhaling deeply enough to swell his already broad chest to massive proportions. “You are—”
“Better at the cha-cha than you?” she said, interrupting him.
He gave her a fierce scowl. “That’ll be the day.”
“Why, General,” Gina said with a grin, “I do believe that’s a challenge.”
“Take it any way you want,” he said, and reached out to grab her.
“Oh, very smooth,” Gina taunted as he pulled her closely against him.
“You know,” he said thoughtfully as he stared down into her eyes, “you’re the reason there is a battle of the sexes.”
Gina put her left hand on his shoulder and slipped her right hand into his left. “Right. Gina Santini is the mother of all problems between the sexes.”
“Not you personally,” he continued, and held her right hand a little tighter than necessary. “Women like you.”
“Ah,” she said with a nod and a teasing smile, “women who don’t swoon at you warrior types?”
He took a deep breath, blew it out again and asked, “Are we going to dance or what?”
She batted her eyelashes at him and said, “I’m waiting for you. You’re the fearless leader, remember?”
Grumbling under his breath, Nick started moving to the rhythm of the music. Gina concentrated on following his lead rather than trying to plot their course around the floor. She knew he hated the cha-cha, but she loved it. There was something about the way he held her for this dance. The way their hips moved against each other.
Uh-oh. Better not go there.
They executed a turn, and she silently admitted that her generation was missing a lot with all of the wild, contortionist dances that were so popular now. There was so much more to be said for the closeness of ballroom dancing.
Too much, really, she thought as she felt Nick’s pelvis move against her. Fires stirred within and she closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she met his gaze and saw flickers of heat shifting in his eyes. One of his hands dropped to the curve of her behind, and Gina would have sworn she felt the brand of each of his fingertips.
“Much better, Sergeant and Gina,” Mrs. Stanton called out as they cha-cha’d past her.
Gina automatically stiffened her spine and lifted her chin.
“Teacher’s pet,” Nick mumbled with a brief smile.
“Delinquent,” she muttered.
“How’d you guess?”
“What?”
“That I was a delinquent when I was a kid.”
Was he serious? He practically had Bad Boy stenciled on his forehead. “I’m psychic.”
“Too bad you’re not a tall psychic,” he said.
Five foot five wasn’t exactly an amazon, but she didn’t qualify for kids’ ticket prices at the movies, either. “I’m not short,” she told him. “You’re abnormally tall.”
“I’m only six-four, which is hardly Godzilla.”
“Depends on your point of view.”
He blew out an exasperated sigh. “I wasn’t trying to start World War III,” he complained. “I’m just saying I’m getting a crick in my neck looking down at you.”
“Well looking up all night isn’t a picnic, ya know.”
Ridiculous to argue over nothing, but it was certainly safer than concentrating on how he was making her feel. Their hips moved against each other again, and Gina flushed, her body awakening to the closeness of Nick’s.
Was dancing supposed to be this sexy? Nick wondered as he pressed Gina even closer to him, hoping as he did so that she couldn’t feel the arousal tightening the fit of his slacks. She felt so small, so defenseless in his arms. Yet even as that thought entered his mind, he wanted to chuckle. Gina? Defenseless? Yeah, like a hungry tiger.
This tiny woman was able to give as good as she got, and he’d found himself almost looking forward to their three-times-a-week shoot-outs. She had a smart-alecky, completely kissable mouth, a compact body that curved in all the right places and a head harder than his.
All in all, just the kind of woman he’d be interested in if he was looking for a woman, which he wasn’t. Now he supposed most men wouldn’t be captivated by a woman who argued anything at the drop of a stick. But Nick had been raised in a good old-fashioned Italian family, where love was measured in octaves reached while yelling.
His mother had told him once that arguments were the spice of married life. And if she’d been telling the truth, then his folks had had one spicy marriage for the past thirty-six years. He smiled to himself as memories crowded into his brain. His two brothers, his parents and himself, seated at the dinner table, arguing about politics, religion, history or even, on a slow day, who was stronger, Superman or Mighty Mouse. The Paretti house was loud, but it was happy.
The cha-cha ended, and the couples on the floor slowly stopped, turning toward Mrs. Stanton, awaiting instructions. Nick dropped Gina’s hand, then curled his own fingers into a fist so he didn’t notice how empty his hand felt without hers in it.
“That’s all for tonight, everyone,” the teacher said.
He ignored the shaft of disappointment that sliced through him. Two hours passed mighty damn quickly in this place.
“But I want you all to think about something,” she went on. “The Bayside Amateur Dance Competition is next month, and we’ve been invited to enter three couples from our class.”
A ripple of conversation rose up and then faded as Mrs. Stanton continued. “Next week I’ll be selecting the three couples who will represent my little dance school, so do your very best, and good luck to you all.”
He caught the excited gleam in Gina’s eyes.
A competition?
In public? Oh, he didn’t think so.
Two
Once class ended, Nick walked outside, barely listening to Gina’s stream of chatter. He kept envisioning himself dancing in public. And those mental pictures were enough to give him chills.
Hell, the whole reason he was taking these classes was because of what had happened the last time he’d danced in public. It was at last year’s Marine Corps Ball. In front of everyone. In a flash he remembered it all.
A crowded room, hundreds of people and him, dancing with a major’s wife. Or rather, trying to dance. She’d cajoled him into it, and he’d reluctantly given in. But as the dance had gone on, he’d almost relaxed…until the moment he’d spun her. Somehow she’d slipped free, and he’d watched, helplessly, as she’d sailed directly into the punch bowl.
Nick swallowed a groan at the memory and quickly pushed the rest of it aside. He really didn’t want to remember the crash of the punch bowl, the splash of liquid, the major’s wife’s screech or the image of the poor woman sitting on the dance floor drenched in ruby-red punch.
Instead he clearly recalled the meeting he’d had a week later with the major.
“You cost me about $250, Gunny,” the officer had said. “It seems even a talented dry cleaner can’t get red punch out of ivory silk.”
Standing at ease, but certainly not feeling it, Nick offered, “I’d be happy to pay to replace the dress, sir.”
“Not necessary,” the Major told him as he stood up from behind his desk and walked around to stop just inches from him. “But I suggest you make sure this never happens again.”
“It won’t, sir,” Nick assured him. “I’ll avoid the dance floor at all costs.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Sir?”
The Major perched on the edge of his desk, crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “You know as well as I do that ‘attendance is expected, and body movement at these things will be noticed.’”
Nick winced internally. The Corps couldn’t order a man to show up and dance, but they managed to get the point across, anyway.
“So before you toss some other poor woman into a punch bowl, I suggest, Gunnery Sergeant,” the man said in a low growl, “that you learn what to do on a dance floor.”
Panic, clean and sharp, whistled through him as he realized what the officer was telling him to do. “You can’t be serious, sir. Dance lessons?”
The other man stared at him for a long minute before asking, “Do I look like I’m kidding?”
Nick groaned tightly at the memory before tucking it into a dark corner of his mind. Hell. He had to be the first Marine in history to have been ordered into a dance class. Well, technically not “ordered.” He’d been “suggested” into it. He would much rather the Major had sentenced him to a few thirty-mile hikes. Or had him transferred to Greenland.
But, no. That would have been too easy a punishment.
Instead Nick was stuck practicing to be a second-rate Fred Astaire. And, oh, man, what his friends would say if they knew what he was up to. For weeks after the punch bowl incident, he’d put up with the teasing, the jokes, the near-constant barrage of abuse from his friends. Hell, if they ever found out that he was actually taking ballroom dance lessons, they’d never let him forget it. As for dancing in a contest? He’d probably have to resign from the Corps just to get some peace.
Nope. What he had to do was survive this stupid class then get back to being a full-time Marine.
Of course, when the classes were over, he wouldn’t be seeing Gina again. Surprising really, how much that realization bothered him.
A cold, damp breeze slinked in off the ocean and swept the rest of old memories and troubling thoughts from his mind. He returned his attention just in time to the short woman walking—or rather, running along beside him.
“Are you listening to me?” she asked, and judging from the exasperation in her tone, it wasn’t for the first time.
Nick stopped, looked down at her and shook his head. “If you’re still talking about that competition, no.”
She threw her hands wide and let them fall to her sides again. “Why not?”
That mouth of hers looked good even in a frown. Oh, no, he wasn’t going there. Leaving his hormones out of the equation, Gina Santini was not going to get to him. “A better question, princess, is why are you so hot to enter a contest with me when all you can do is complain about how badly I dance?”
The wind tossed her dark-brown curls around her face, and Gina reached up with one hand to push them back from her eyes. “You’re really not totally bad.”
Heartwarming. “Gee,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his words, “thanks.”
She pulled in a deep breath, which distracted him momentarily by drawing his gaze to the curve of her breasts, then she sighed dramatically. “It’s a contest,” she said as if that was enough to explain everything. “Don’t you want to win?”
That gleam in her eyes was back again, and a part of Nick admired her. He liked a good competition, too. He just preferred entering contests that he had some small chance of winning.
“We’re not good enough,” he said flatly, and started for his car again, hoping she’d drop the subject.
He should have known better.
Right behind him, he heard the heels of her shoes tapping against the asphalt as she trotted to keep up with his long-legged stride.
“We could be,” she said, “good enough, I mean.”
Nick laughed shortly.
“All we’d need is extra practice.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “for a year or two.”
“For Pete’s sake, General,” Gina said, and stepped in front of him, bringing him to a quick stop. “Do all Marines give up as easily as you?”
A quick flash of irritation swelled up inside him.
“Marines do not give up, princess,” he said, and loomed over her, which wasn’t hard since she was so darn short. “We simply choose our battles.”
“Uh-huh. Apparently only the ones you’re sure of winning.”
“Look,” he said, and threw his car a longing glance before looking at Gina again. Obviously, he wasn’t going to get out of here without yet another argument. And to think that only a moment ago he’d been bothered by the thought of never seeing her again. God. What had he done in his life to deserve this irritating, too-damned-attractive woman? Answer: he’d thrown a major’s wife into a punch bowl. “You said yourself all we do is argue. Do you really want to spend more time together?”
She folded her arms under her breasts and he absolutely refused to look. It wasn’t easy, but he kept his gaze locked with hers. One of her finely arched eyebrows went just a bit higher. “We wouldn’t argue so much if you weren’t so stubborn.”
“Hah! I’m stubborn?”
She gave him a look that would have fried a lesser man’s soul. Then, clearly disgusted, she asked, “Why am I even talking to you?”
“You got me, princess.”
“Will you stop calling me princess?”
“As soon as you stop acting like one.”
Her big brown eyes widened and then narrowed dangerously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Well, hell. He hadn’t really meant to say that out loud. “Never mind.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “Explain.”
“There’s no reason to go into any of this,” he hedged. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. He just didn’t want to enter that blasted contest. “It’s late. I’ve got to get back to base.”
She leaned back against his car and shook her head. For such a tiny woman, she had the look of an immovable object.
“You started this, Sergeant. Now you finish it.”
This was his own fault, he told himself. He never should have said what he was thinking. But Gina had a way of irking him like no one else he’d ever known.
He swept his gaze up and down her compact, curvy form before coming to rest on those beautiful brown eyes of hers. And damned if she didn’t know just how pretty she was, too. Oh, not that she seemed conceited, but there was a confidence about her that came from knowing she presented a hell of a picture. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized how right he was in his assessment of her. Pampered, spoiled, obviously used to getting her own way, she was completely unprepared for someone—anyone saying no to her.
“So, General,” she said, “do you explain, or do we stand here all night?”
All around them their fellow students were leaving the tiny parking lot. Overhead, dark clouds sailed across a black sky, obliterating the stars and threatening rain. Even in southern California, January weather could be unpredictable. And just in case it was going to start raining anytime soon, he decided to end this debate once and for all. If she wanted the truth that badly, she could have it.
“It means that I know you better than you think I do.”
“Oh, really?”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist, he told himself. She was Italian. So was he. And if there was one thing he knew, it was Italian families.
“Youngest in your family, weren’t you?”
She flinched slightly. “So?”
“The apple of daddy’s eye?”
She straightened up away from the car. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin, glared at him and asked, “Your point?”
Ah…direct hit.
“My point is that you’ve spent your entire life getting exactly what you want just by batting those gorgeous eyes of yours.” He leaned in closer and knew instantly it had been a mistake. Her perfume distracted him, but he steeled himself against that potent scent and finished what he had to say. “Well, it’s not gonna work with me, princess. We’re partners on that dance floor, because we’re stuck with each other. But you can save that wide-eyed, innocent look for the college boys, all right?”
It took her a minute to calm down enough to talk.
Then she started sputtering. “You are the single most irritating, annoying, overbearing, insulting—” She paused and bit her bottom lip.
A bottom lip he suddenly wanted to kiss more than he wanted to draw his next breath. The other couples were driving away, and the flash of headlights skimmed across her face and faded again, leaving only the dim glow of the yellow fog lights in the parking lot. Streamers of gray, damp fog drifted in from the ocean and twined around their legs, linking them together in an otherworldly grip.
Seconds passed, ticking by as they stared at each other. She was so close. Close enough to kiss. To touch. He lifted one hand, and as she leaned in toward him a car horn sounded, shattering the weird spell that had been cast over them.
She shook her head as if coming up out of a dream. “I, uh, have to go.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
She opened her mouth to say something more, but snapped it shut again a moment later. Then, without giving him another look, she turned around and marched off across the shadowy parking lot toward her car.
Nick watched her go and told himself he was only keeping an eye on her to see that she made it into her car safely. After all, a pretty woman, a deserted parking lot, it was the decent thing to do. But he was still standing there, staring after her, long after she’d pulled out of the lot and driven off.
The next day after work, Nick entered the Staff NCO club and headed down the wide hallway. Absently he took the short flight of steps, passed the small reception area and climbed five more steps to the darkened ballroom. As he stepped into the familiar club, he turned to his right and stopped just at the long mahogany bar. His gaze swept the shadow-filled room. A huge place, it looked nearly empty, with just a sprinkling of tables dotting the floor. But when the room was decked out for a ball or a party, the old club shone like a gem.
The few noncommissioned officers seated at the tables barely glanced his way. He recognized a few familiar faces in the bunch. But on a base the size of Pendleton, it wasn’t unusual to see a lot of strangers as well as friends.
He leaned his elbows on the bar, ordered a beer and, as he had been doing all day, relived those last few minutes in the dark with Gina. Gritting his teeth, he told himself for the thousandth time that he’d had no right to stomp on her feelings like that. So what if she irritated him? That didn’t give him leave to fire mortar rounds at her heart.
And, damn it, he was sure he’d seen her eyes go all teary.
Great, he thought as the bartender slid his beer in front of him. Big, strong Marine had made a woman cry.
He took a long swallow of beer and tried to rinse the taste of disgust from his mouth as another Marine entered the bar and walked up beside him. “Paretti?”
Half turning, he looked at the man, noted the insignia on his shirtsleeve and recognized him as another Gunnery Sergeant. “Yeah?”
The guy stuck out his right hand and said, “Thought it was you. I’m Davis Garvey.”
“I’ve seen you around,” Nick said with a nod as he shook the man’s hand, then turned to pay the bartender for his beer. Glancing back at Davis, he asked, “You want anything?”
“No, thanks,” he said, and waved the bartender off. “I’m on my way home. Just stopped in to look for you, actually.”
“Now why would you do that?” Nick asked, and took another sip of his drink, wishing the guy would leave so he could get on with torturing himself for picking on Gina.
The other man grinned and leaned one elbow on the bar. “Sort of promised my new sister-in-law I would.”
Nick looked at the guy, trying to figure out what was going on here. As far as he knew, he hadn’t dated any women lately who had brothers-in-law stationed at Pendleton. So it couldn’t be some defending-her-honor kind of thing. And if this was leading to a “shotgun wedding” scenario, the man would just have to go ahead and shoot him. No way was Nick Paretti getting married again. The phrase “been there, done that” roared across his mind.
“Okay,” he said after a minute or two of silence, “you have my attention. What’s up?”
Around them conversations flowed, Marines relaxed after a long hard day, and splashes of laughter shot through the air. But Nick wasn’t paying attention to any of it. Instead, he concentrated on the man now grinning like some damned fool.
“I hear,” Davis said, “you’ve been making Gina’s life miserable at dancing school.”
Panic, swift and sure, shot through him.
“Hey!” Nick spoke up quickly, then threw a fast glance at the Marines on either side of them to make sure they hadn’t been listening in. After all the trouble he’d been going to, to keep his dancing lessons a secret, he sure wasn’t about to stand there and let Davis Garvey announce it in the NCO club. Hell, the news would be all over base by morning.
He could almost hear the teasing and ribbing he’d be getting for the rest of his life if word got out. They would be calling him Sergeant Twinkle-Toes or something else just as humiliating. For Pete’s sake, he had to get Garvey out of there.
Wouldn’t you just know Gina would be involved in this? All of his guilty feelings melted away to be replaced by the irritation he usually felt for the woman.
“Why don’t we go outside to talk about this?” he suggested, and took a huge swallow of beer when he’d finished talking.
Davis’s grin broadened, and his eyes held a knowing gleam. Yep, he knew exactly why Nick was trying to get him to leave the club. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m happy right here.”
Scowling at his fellow sergeant, Nick muttered, “Look, I’m not going to talk about it in here, all right?”
Then he turned around, marched out of the room and down the first flight of stairs like a man on the parade ground. He never looked back, never checked to be sure Garvey was following him. Just kept walking, across the reception area, up the short flight of steps and out the doors into the late-afternoon gloom. Nick kept walking until he reached his car, and there he stopped, waiting.
In another minute or two Davis Garvey approached slowly, hands in his pockets, that damned smirk still on his face.
“All right, what’s this about?” Nick snapped.
“I told you. Gina.”
Figured. It wasn’t enough that she drove him crazy at class. Now she’d thought of a way to bother him at work, too. And to think he’d spent all day berating himself for hurting her feelings. “She’s your sister-in-law, you said?”
“Yep. I married her sister Marie a couple of weeks ago.”
“Congratulations,” Nick muttered, and silently wished the poor guy luck. He’d need it if his new wife was anything like her sister.
“Thanks.”
He didn’t want to insult the man’s family, but damned if Nick was going to stand there and not defend himself, either. “Since you’re related to her, you should know what Gina’s like.”
“Charming?” Davis suggested. “Beautiful? Funny?”
All of the above, Nick thought, and plenty more. “Don’t forget to add annoying, shrewish, bossy…” He paused, then asked, “Do I have to go on?”
“No,” Davis said on a laugh. Shaking his head slightly, he added, “I think I get the picture.”
“I’m not sure you do.”
“Look,” Davis said, “Gina said you’ve been giving her a hard time, so I thought I’d talk to you about it.”
Disgusted, Nick said, “Strange, she didn’t strike me as the kind of woman who needed someone else to fight her battles.”
“She isn’t,” Davis told him, and his smile was gone. “But she’s family now. And I look out for my family.”
Nick took the man’s measure and slowly nodded. He could understand family loyalty. “I’d do the same.”
“Then you’ll lighten up on Gina?”
“I’ll fire only if fired upon,” he said solemnly.
Davis smiled again. “Sounds fair enough to me.” He held out his right hand once more, and Nick took it in a firm shake. “Good to meet you, Gunny.”
“Same goes, Gunny,” Nick said.
But as the other man walked off toward his own car, Nick’s mind was racing. Gina Santini had called in reinforcements. Oh, maybe she hadn’t come right out and asked her brother-in-law to talk to him, but she’d probably expected him to. That meant she wasn’t retreating, only regrouping.
She may have won the first battle, but as far as Nick was concerned, the war was still on.
Three
Family-dinner night at the Santinis’ was always interesting. At least one night a week, no matter what else was going on in their lives, the Santinis came together over the dinner table. And for a couple of hours they caught each other up on the news, argued, laughed and ate themselves into a stupor.
Gina glanced around at the faces of her family and smiled to herself. Mama, of course, lonelier since Papa’s death two years ago, but still vibrant and deeply involved in whatever her daughters were up to. Then there was Angela, the oldest Santini sister. A widow herself, Angela and her son, Jeremy, had moved back home after her husband’s death three years ago. Jeremy was a great kid, Gina thought as her glance slid in his direction. And it was doing him a world of good to have Davis, Marie’s new husband, in the family. Jeremy’s father hadn’t been much good at the “family” thing. He’d made all of their lives miserable, and if anyone here was willing to admit it out loud, they’d have to say that Angela was actually happier as a widow than she had ever been when she was married.
But naturally no one would ever admit it.
Then there was Marie. Gina smiled to herself as she looked at the middle Santini sister. Since meeting and falling in love with Davis, Marie had really come into her own. Oh, she was still a great mechanic, and spent most of her time happily involved in some greasy job or other. But there was a sparkle in her eyes and a glow about her that hadn’t been there before Davis.
So basically, she told herself with an inward frown, every Santini at the table looked happy as a clam. Except of course, for her.
“I saw your Gunnery Sergeant Paretti today,” Davis said, and reached for the bowl of pasta.
Well, that came out of nowhere.
Gina looked at him. “He’s not my anything,” she said, and forked up a bite of salad.
“Yeah, well, I had a little talk with him, anyway,” her brother-in-law told her. He looked pretty pleased with himself about it, too.
Eyes wide, she hurriedly chewed, swallowed and said, “You talked to him? When? Where? What do you mean? What did you say?”
Davis shrugged, smiled at his wife, then looked back at Gina. “To answer your questions in order…after work, at the Staff NCO club, and I just told him you were my sister-in-law and I’d appreciate it if he’d back off.”
“Oh, great.” She dropped her fork with a clatter and sat back in her chair.
“Wasn’t that nice?” Mama asked no one in particular and reached out to pat Davis’s hand fondly.
“Nice?” Gina said, staring at her mother. “You think it’s nice?”
“What’s wrong with you?” Marie demanded. “Davis was just trying to help you out.”
“If he wanted to help,” Gina said, glaring at her sister, “then he should have simply run the man down in the street.”
“Oh,” Angela piped up, “there’s a plan.”
“Run who down?” Eight-year-old Jeremy asked.
“A nice Marine like Davis, dear,” Mama told him, and handed him more garlic bread. Unflappable, Mama let nothing interfere with dinner.
“No he’s not,” Gina said quickly.
“Nice?” Mama asked.
“Like Davis,” Gina clarified.
“What’s the big deal?” Angela asked as she poured her son more milk. “So Davis talked to him. You’re overreacting, Gina.”
“Big surprise,” Marie muttered.
“I am not overreacting,” Gina snapped. “How does this look? Now he thinks I went crying to my big brother-in-law wailing for help.”
“You did,” Marie reminded her, rising to her husband’s defense like a lioness defending its den.
“I did not,” she argued hotly, and shifted her gaze from Marie to Davis. “Did I ever ask you to talk to the man? Did I plead for your help?”
“No, but…” Davis squirmed in his chair.
Ordinarily Gina might have felt sorry for him, surrounded by women, the only other jolt of testosterone in the room coming from a boy too small to be on his side. But not tonight.
“Cut it out, Gina,” Marie said sharply. “Davis was trying to help you, for crying out loud. It’s your own fault. All you’ve done since starting those classes is complain about the man.”
Okay, so she’d complained a little. Wasn’t that one of the perks of having a family? They were supposed to let you rant and rave. She hadn’t noticed them rushing out to buy her new clothes when she complained about her wardrobe.
“Papa would have been pleased with what Davis did for you,” Mama said. “Family takes care of family.”
Oh, for pity’s sake, she made it sound like they were in the Mafia. What’s next? We send Nick a dead fish wrapped in newspaper?
“But…” Gina began.
“Davis went out of his way to find this guy, you know. He did you a favor. The least you could do is thank him.” Marie stared at her, silently waiting for Gina to do just that.
Five pairs of eyes watched her. She could hear the ticking of the mantel clock in the living room. No one moved. Damn it. Didn’t they understand that even though he’d meant well, Davis had just made a complicated situation even more difficult?
In an instant she recalled everything Nick had said to her after their last class. Spoiled. Pampered. Princess. Well, now, thanks to Davis’s well intentioned meddling, Nick would think himself proved right.
Why was her life suddenly so complicated?
Men, that’s why.
First, there had been Richard. A lawyer she’d dated long enough to convince her to take ballroom dancing lessons in order to fit into his social sphere. Unfortunately she’d stopped dating him before her second class. Though a perfectly nice man, they hadn’t shared enough chemistry to set off a sparkler.
Sparklers. Fireworks. Skyrockets.
The thought of which brought to mind the new male in her life. Nick Paretti. Her blood hummed in her veins. Her stomach pitched and rolled.
Oh, for Pete’s sake.
“Gina!”
Marie’s voice dragged her back to the moment at hand.
“You could at least pay attention when we’re arguing,” her sister said.
“Oh, I’m paying attention,” she muttered, then continued, “all I said was that Nick Paretti is a pain in the—”
“Gina.” Mama’s voice broke in, firmly.
She closed her mouth, sighed then said, “He’s a pain in the drain, that’s all.”
Mama nodded, satisfied.
Jeremy snickered until his mother shushed him. Apparently, he hadn’t been fooled by his aunt’s quick save.
“I only meant to help,” Davis said, looking directly into Gina’s eyes.
Instantly she regretted shouting at him. He had meant well. And if you stopped to think about it, it was really very sweet, him rushing in to play big brother. Boy, would she have loved having him around when she was a kid.
“I know,” she said, giving him a smile and letting him know he was forgiven. It wasn’t his fault she had such conflicting feelings for Nick. Then she forced herself to add, “Thanks, Davis. You’re a good brother.”
He grinned at her. “Yeah, I think I’m getting the hang of it.”
Conversation flowed again, swirling around and past Gina. No one seemed to notice that she wasn’t taking part.
“Okay, let’s have it,” Gina said as they left the dance studio.
“Have what?” Nick glanced up at the starry sky and shrugged deeper into the windbreaker jacket he wore.
“I’ve been waiting all night,” she said, and grabbed his arm to bring him to a stop.
Scowling, he turned his gaze down at her. He should have known they wouldn’t be able to go an entire night without an argument. Although, up until now the evening had gone fine. They’d hardly spoken and they’d danced better than ever. Maybe that was the secret to getting along with Gina Santini. No talking.
“Waiting for what?” he asked.
“For you to make some smart remark about my brother-in-law hunting you down on base.”
“Oh…” Nick nodded and immediately understood. She was wondering why he hadn’t said anything. But the truth was, he’d been doing a lot of thinking since Davis Garvey had spoken to him a few days ago. In fact, he’d been trying to figure out exactly why Gina Santini rubbed him the wrong way more often than not. He’d lost his temper more times since he’d met her than he had in the past five years. And that wasn’t like Nick at all.
Then last night the truth had finally dawned on him. Gina reminded him—too much—of his ex-wife. Oh, she didn’t look anything like her, and if truth be known, Gina was a helluva lot nicer than Kim had ever been. But there were too many similarities to ignore, too.
Both of them spoiled, used to getting their own ways and not above using their looks to do it. Every time Gina tried to flirt her way out of an argument, Nick’s defenses went on full alert. He’d fallen once for a woman with more looks than heart. He wouldn’t let it happen again.
As for her brother-in-law’s visit, there was no need to say anything about that. If Nick had been in the same position, he would have done the very thing Davis had. In the Paretti household they’d learned one lesson very early in life. Family comes first.
“Forget it,” he said finally, and saw wary relief wash over her features.
Obviously, she wanted to believe him, but didn’t.
“Why are you being so nice?”
“I can’t be nice without an ulterior motive?”
“I don’t know.”
Well, hell. Good to know she thought he was a complete jerk. “Look, why don’t we call a truce for the duration of the lessons?”
“A truce?”
“Yeah. You know, a cease-fire.”
“I know what it is, I’m just not sure why you’re offering one.”
He inhaled sharply and let the cold ocean breeze reach down inside him and quench his budding temper. Even when he was trying to be agreeable, she fought him. “We both want to learn these damned dances, right?”
“Right.”
“We don’t have to like each other. All we have to do is dance together.” There. He couldn’t make it plainer than that. “Deal?” He held out his right hand.
She stared at it for a long moment as if it were a snake in striking distance. Then she slipped her hand into his and said, “Deal.”
Warmth skittered up from their clasped hands, and Nick released her quickly. Then she flashed him a million-watt smile, and he had to firmly remind himself that it would be easy to resist her charms.
“As long as we’re being so friendly,” Gina said as they started again for their cars, “maybe you’d like to reconsider entering that competition.”
He snorted a laugh. A private truce was one thing. Announcing publicly that he was taking dancing lessons was quite another. “Not a chance, princess.”
“So much for a truce,” she muttered.
“I’m not entering that contest.”
“But we’re really getting good,” she argued.
“No way,” Nick said and shook his head for emphasis.
She took his arm and stepped in close. “You could at least think about it.”
Her perfume drifted to him, and he inhaled it deeply. Light, flowery, it seemed to fill his head with images of summer nights. Her hand on his arm felt warm and entirely too good. He didn’t dare risk a look at her. No doubt she was wearing her patented, “pouting for prizes” expression. And as much as he’d like to pretend he could easily resist it, he knew darned well it would be tough.
“Gunnery Sergeant Paretti?” A woman called out to him from off to their left.
Nick glanced her way and simply stared at the woman. Good Lord. The new Colonel’s wife. A thousand thoughts ran through his head in an instant. Would she know that he and Gina had come from the dance studio? No, he told himself. Close by, there was a theater, the Bayside Seafood Restaurant, an art gallery and a drugstore. They might have been in any of them. Nope. He was in the clear. Relaxing just a bit, he smiled and said, “Mrs. Thornton, ma’am. Good evening.”
“Hello,” she said and walked closer, smiling warmly at both Gina and him.
Gina.
Oh, man. How could he silently tell his dance partner to keep quiet about what they’d been up to?
“Mrs. Thornton, Gina Santini,” he said, unable to avoid introducing the two women.
“Nice to meet you,” Gina said.
“Thank you.” The Colonel’s wife smiled at the two of them again before saying, “My, what a lovely couple you make.”
Nick almost choked.
Gina actually chuckled.
“Taking in a movie?” The other woman asked.
Gina opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Nick said, “That’s right.”
Gina frowned up at him, but he ignored her and slipped his arm around her shoulder. If the Colonel’s wife believed he and Gina were a happy couple, then he’d just play along. It was certainly a better option than letting her know the truth.
“Well, I’m so glad I ran into the two of you,” Cecelia Thornton said.
“Ma’am?” Hurriedly, Nick tried to think of a way to get Gina and him out of there. But there was no polite way to leave the Colonel’s wife standing alone in a parking lot, so he could only hope to escape this meeting unscathed.
“As you know, we’re new on base…”
“Yes, ma’am.” He shot a glance at Gina. What was she thinking?
“The Colonel and I will be hosting a small get-together at our house in a couple of weeks for the staff NCOs and their wives. A barbecue, if the weather looks fine enough.”
Nick nodded. It was customary for a new officer to get to know the noncoms in his command.
“I look forward to it, ma’am.” He’d already heard about the coming party and had been planning on making an appearance and then leaving as soon as politely possible. Just like every other single Marine he knew. The married guys always stayed longer at these things, mainly because their wives were enjoying themselves too much to leave.
“I hope you’ll attend as Gunnery Sergeant Paretti’s guest, Gina,” the Colonel’s wife was saying, and Nick’s breath knotted in his chest. Okay, he hadn’t expected that. Maybe trying to look like a couple hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
“Well…” Gina stalled as she looked up at Nick.
Silently he attempted to tell her to say “thanks, but no thanks.” Giving her shoulder a hard squeeze, he tried to give the appearance of a solicitous boyfriend all the while, wiggling his eyebrows and scowling slightly in warning.
She knew what he wanted her to say. He could see it in her eyes. Naturally, though, she didn’t say it. Instead, she leaned into him, laid one hand on his chest and smiled at the Colonel’s wife. “Thanks so much for inviting me,” she said. “Nicky and I are looking forward to it.”
Nicky?
His mind blanked out briefly while he enjoyed the play of Gina’s fingers against his chest. Oh, she was really burying herself in the part, he thought as she cozied into him. And damn if it didn’t feel good, too.
A few more minutes passed while Gina and the Colonel’s wife chatted aimlessly. He didn’t even hear what was said. Nick’s mind whirled with thoughts of murder while he continued to play the good boyfriend.
When the other woman finally strolled off toward the drugstore, Nick grabbed Gina’s arm and turned her around to face him. “What was that all about? Didn’t you get that I was trying to tell you to say no to the invitation?”
“Of course I got it,” Gina said, and pulled away from him with a smile. “You’re not that hard to read.”
“Then why?”
“Because, Nicky,” she said, “something suddenly occurred to me.”
“Yeah…?” Oh, this didn’t bode well for him at all. She looked entirely too sure of herself.
She grinned up at him and pushed her dark-brown curls out of her eyes. Devilment shone in their chocolaty depths, and he knew he was in for it.
“You didn’t want her to know you were taking dance lessons, did you?”
Shoving his hands into his back pockets, he said shortly, “No, I didn’t.”
“That’s what I thought,” she said, nodding slowly.
“Now, why’d you agree to go the party?”
“So that I would have a good position to bargain from.”
Here it comes, he thought, and tried to brace for whatever was coming. Hell, he’d been in combat. Surely he could take whatever Gina Santini could dish out. “Bargain for what?”
“I’ll go to that party with you—” she paused and smiled “—and you’ll enter the dance contest with me.”
So much for bracing himself. “Whoa,” he said, and held up one hand. “Back up and regroup.”
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