They were part way through the second course when one of the wait staff approached Mari with a problem.
“I’ll get it, you enjoy yourself,” Luca said, beginning to push back his chair.
“No, I will.” She smiled easily. “It is my job, after all. I won’t be but a minute.”
He stood while she rose from her chair and sat again, watching her as she followed the staff member towards the kitchen.
He looked over at his sister, who kept insisting she was happy in her marriage. Was Luca the only one who could see what she was doing? She kept saying Angelo was her happy ending and he wouldn’t be the one to shatter the illusion. He wanted it for her, after all they’d been through as children when their mother had abandoned them. He remembered holding her when she was little, when she cried for their mother in the night and didn’t want Papa to hear. Remembered the summer he’d suspected there was something between her and Dante. But then Dante had gone to Paris with him and when they’d returned, she’d been engaged to Angelo. And he’d known she was trying to make up for the life they hadn’t had and he’d been powerless to stop it.
He’d been by her side during the darkest time in her life. He’d been the older one. He’d understood more. He sincerely hoped Gina wasn’t in for the same heartbreak again. He certainly wasn’t in the market for a fairy tale happy ending. Neither were the women he usually dated, and that suited him just fine.
When Mari returned, he let his gaze fall on her as she and Gina spoke of the internal workings of the hotel business.
Mari was different. He couldn’t explain it, but somehow all the jaded thoughts from the past faded away when she was near. There could never be anything permanent between them, but the brittle sense of skepticism he usually carried dissolved when she was around. He’d seen her eyes light up as she spoke to Gina, laughing easily in a way he hadn’t seen before.
It was mesmerizing. This was Mari, unguarded. He’d wondered if she could be this way. Now he wondered if she could ever be this way with him.
“Luca, you must dance with me.”
Gina issued the command and Luca sighed. “Gina.”
“You know you want to. Besides, who else am I going to dance with? I don’t see you for months on end. And this really is a quick trip.”
Mari looked at Luca and a reluctant smile crawled up her cheek at his mulish expression.
She’d smiled more today than she could recall smiling in a long time. Seeing Luca being bossed around by his diminutive sister was enjoyable. She’d gotten so used to him giving orders that she was delighted he knew how to indulge his sister.
“Ah, the family guilt,” Mari teased him. “The same no matter what nationality you are.”
“Oh, we Italians are particularly well-versed in it,” Gina replied jauntily. “Let’s go, Luca.”
Mari watched, wishing she had the natural ease and grace that the Fioris seemed to possess. She’d insisted that Luca dance with Gina, and it was fun watching them. He took a wide step and spun his sister around, and the sound of her tinkling laughter reached Mari’s ears. This was a man she could warm up to. Like the picnic, dinner with Gina seemed to have released the tension he’d been holding in. It made him even more attractive. She wet her lips. Not in a million years, would she have expected to be feeling a physical attraction to a man. Especially not now, when she knew Robert was out there, and free.
She knew her mother must know that he was out on parole, and for the first time, she wondered what Anne was doing, where she was. After the trial Mariella had walked away, not looking back. She couldn’t. But through the years and silence between them, there was no denying that her mum had had to deal with the same thing. Perhaps even more than Mariella, she must be feeling like it wasn’t ever truly over. For the first time in a long time, she felt sorry for her mother.
Breathless, Gina and Luca returned to the table. Gina sat but Luca looked down at Mari. She forced a smile, but she knew it was too late. He’d seen her melancholy. His eyes softened with concern and he held out his hand. “Mari? Dance?”
Mari stared at his extended palm. Could she? The scene was eerily close to her musings just before she’d dozed off in the limo. But now, faced with reality, her stomach twisted in knots at the thought of being held so closely in his arms. She wanted to dance, she discovered. But she didn’t trust herself to handle it. Not when the mere thought of Robert caused the trembling to start. The last thing she wanted to do was have the proximity of his body trigger her panic. For once, she was unsure of her own reaction and she hesitated.
“Go on, Mari, dance. Luca’s actually a very good dancer.” Gina narrowed her eyes at her brother. “But if you repeat that, I’ll deny it.”
Mari let out a breath and carefully put her hand in Luca’s as she rose from her chair. Immediately she felt the warmth of his hand radiate up her arm. “I suppose I could dance, once.”
He led her to the dim floor. Her heels echoed on the parquet and he turned, pulling her gently into his arms. She felt like she was in a dream. Gone was the Luca of before, the man of casual flair, of style and flirtation. In his place was a gentleman. He seemed to know how she felt about touching and kept a polite distance between th
em. Knowing he did it out of respect for her drew her to him in ways that his innate charm never could. Even so, one hand was warm at her waist, and he cupped her right hand within his, a perfect fit.
He was dashing tonight, dressed in a dark suit, his tie precisely knotted, his hair slicked back, reminiscent of the golden age days he so wanted the hotel to represent. The song was slow and jazzy, the singer’s voice smooth and rich like melted caramel. Luca’s arm cradled her waist as he lifted their joined hands close to his shoulder. “Relax,” he whispered, and their feet started to move to the music.
Unlike when he danced with Gina, now Luca didn’t say a word. Mari swallowed, closing her eyes and letting the music guide her feet around the intimate floor. Their steps grew lazy and Mari drew his scent in, that expensive, man-scent that she knew she’d always recognize as his. Their bodies were closer now than before, and the trembling in her body wasn’t fear. Perhaps it was, she thought, but not fear of her safety.
Fear of Luca and the way he made her feel. Because he was making her feel things she’d never wanted to feel at all. Vulnerable. Wanting to give a part of herself to him, rather than closet it away.
His hips swayed against hers and she longed to rest her cheek against the fabric of his dinner jacket. His hand slid up her back, leaving a warm trail in its wake. This then, was what it felt like to feel cherished.
Breath caught in her throat. She’d felt safe once before only to have it go very wrong. As much as her heart told her she was safe with Luca, she couldn’t be sure. Couldn’t take that risk. She couldn’t survive it again.
It was very good he was a short-term complication.