Fish & Chips (Cut & Run 3)

“Oh, my poor Del,” Norina said sympathetically as she patted his cheek with her hand. “You have had a stressful time, no? It is settled, then. Tomorrow while they play with their toys, perhaps you and I, we will have fun somewhere else? Perhaps some time with the masseuse?”

“Del enjoys anything that makes him more beautiful,” Zane drawled as he listened in.

Ty looked sideways at Zane, giving him a brief, hateful look. But he chose to ignore the comment and looked back at Norina with a weak smile. “As long as the fun doesn"t involve climbing,” he said to her.

She laughed lightly. “My fun has nothing to do with climbing.”

“I"m sure you"ll have a great time,” Zane said, trying to keep the atmosphere pleasant. “I"ll be happy knowing Del is entertained while I"m working.”

“If they have money to spend, they will be happy,” Bianchi predicted as he leaned sideways in his chair.

Norina lightly slapped his hand. “It will keep my lonely thoughts from you.”

Ty sniffed at them both, obviously insulted but holding his tongue as Armen strolled up to the table.

“Apologies for my tardiness,” the man murmured as he pulled out the seat next to Zane and sat down. He didn"t offer an excuse.

Zane smiled politely. “Not at all. We were just passing the time.”

“I ordered drinks for us all, Signor Armen,” Bianchi declared.

“Very well,” Armen murmured as he glanced toward the bar.

“I think I would like the seafood tonight, Lorenzo,” Norina said as she perused the menu.

“After fish the last three meals, I am not surprised, my gioia.

Order whatever you like,” Bianchi said.

Ty looked down and rubbed at his forehead uncomfortably. Zane knew he wished the two Italians would ease up on the lovey-dovey stuff a little. It was getting on his nerves, so Zane knew it had to be aggravating Ty, who reached for his glass of Scotch. Apparently he was figuring he might as well make the best of it if the criminals were footing the bill.

Watching as Ty picked up the heavy crystal lowball glass and raised it to his lips, Zane could almost feel the spicy liquid burning its way to the back of his throat, and the thought was enough to raise the hairs on his arms even before Ty took a swallow.

He"d be able to taste it on Ty"s tongue.

“I see Del is anxious for a toast, no?” Bianchi said with a hearty laugh.

Ty cleared his throat before ever taking a sip, and he put the glass down with an apologetic smile.

“We"re just pleased to be here,” Zane said. He glanced to his own glass and decided he wasn"t even going to pick it up. He"d toast with the water glass, bad luck and cover identity be damned.

“Then let us toast to pleasure,” Bianchi started, raising his glass.

Armen and Ty both held their glasses out, and Zane reached for his water glass. Norina delicately touched her champagne glass to her husband"s, and Zane couldn"t help but watch as Ty put his glass to his lips again.

Ty had been right: putting two of the things Zane was addicted to together like this was sort of cruel.

The band struck the opening chord on a new song, and Norina clapped and bounced excitedly as she grabbed at Ty"s arm. The whiskey in his glass sloshed, and he pulled it away from his face before it could spill across his lap.

“A tango! Del, you must dance with me! Please, tesoro, let us dance while you do your boring things,” Norina said as she turned to her husband.

“Ah, the whims of a woman,” Bianchi said fondly. “If you must.”

Norina turned to Ty, one graceful hand outstretched. “You promised me a tango while at sea.”

Ty stared at her, eyes slightly wide. “I did?” he asked, obviously caught off guard. “I did,” he repeated more confidently, trying to cover his initial reaction as he took her hand gingerly. He glanced at Zane as if seeking rescue.

Zane raised both brows and shrugged, though he felt a wash of anxiety. He had no idea if Ty knew how to tango. On a dance floor, anyway. It wasn"t exactly the type of thing one learned in a bar. “Go ahead, doll. I"m sure there will be more songs for us to dance to this evening.”

Ty gave him the most evil glare Zane thought he had ever seen, but he stood and held Norina"s hand as she rose. The others stood as she did, and Ty escorted her away from the table like a perfect gentleman, leading her out onto the open dance floor in the middle of the dining room.

“Ah, our loved ones are such delights, are they not?” Bianchi said as he swirled the liquor in his glass.

“Delights. Right,” Zane murmured as he kept his eyes on the couple. There weren"t many brave enough to dance the tango, which made Ty and Norina all the more conspicuous. Zane would bet his recent windfall that Ty wouldn"t have walked out there without at least some idea of how to tango, but he was still worried. There was nowhere for Ty to hide.

The melody restarted.

When they started dancing, it was a slow, almost tentative start.

More stop and go than a smooth flow of steps. But Zane knew that was how most tangos started. They didn"t miss any steps, and Norina was smiling as they turned in a half-circle. Then the music picked up, becoming more robust, and Ty whirled Norina around in time with the music and dipped her grandly as she laughed. That was when they truly began dancing.

Zane almost broke cover and showed his surprise as he watched.

Ty could tango. And pretty damn well. Surprise, surprise.

The diners at the tables nearest the dance floor were watching the four couples dancing. All of them were quite good, but Ty and Norina were the only ones who were truly fun to watch. Two attractive people with shining personalities who knew what they were doing and enjoyed doing it—they were hard not to watch.

“Ah, he makes my gioia smile,” Bianchi remarked, his voice full of pride. “She is so beautiful,” he added, almost to himself. A man truly in love.

That thought shakily in mind, Zane spoke. “They both are,” he agreed with no doubt at all.

“What about you, Mr. Armen? Why did you not bring someone with you? Perhaps someone as stunning as my Norina… or as handsome as Mr. Porter?” Bianchi asked.

“Beautiful people are in general a distraction,” Armen said stiffly.

“And more trouble than they are worth.” He made no effort to qualify the statement or excuse their spouses from the broad generalization. He glanced out at them, now dancing a more vigorous version of the tango as each grew familiar with how the other moved.