Page 24 of The Virgin's Dance with the Devil
Tightly controlling his tone because the last thing he wanted was to kill his brother in front of Marisa, he put his knife and fork together. “You will get proof that validates my winning the bet, not proof to titillate you. Now, excuse me, I’ve got a casino to run.” Rising to his feet, he excused himself to the rest of his family and caught Marisa’s eye one last time as he swept out of the restaurant and made his way to the ballroom.
His blood was still surging with anger when the first guests began trickling in.
The only thing to feel grateful for that evening was the Martinellis dining at a different table from them. Everything else was a nightmare, one of the biggest parts being when Luisa mentioned Marisa missing the boat trip.
Marisa hated lying. It wasn’t just that she was no good at it, she hated doing it. She could just about cope with little white lies, like when her mum asked if she looked as tired as she felt and Marisa said no because to say yes would make her mum feel bad about herself, and if she was asking the question in the first place it was because she was already feeling bad about herself. But that was her limit.
She’d managed to mumble something about getting the time confused to explain missing the trip, but she’d felt so guilty at this, and Luisa was usually so astute in picking up on her moods that Marisa had immediately asked about Lorenzo’s yacht to deflect attention away from herself. It had worked, but it wasn’t until they were eating their desserts… well, picking at them… that she’d realised Luisa wasn’t being her usual astute self because she too had something lying heavy on her mind. She was drinking more than usual too, and this would normally have Marisa volleying probing questions at her, but all she could truly focus on was Rico. Every time she looked up, his eyes were on her. Every time she met them, the simmering flame in her pelvis flared and her heart twisted. When he’d abruptly left the restaurant with a face like thunder that softened when he took one last look at her, she’d ached to follow him.
She ached, too, to confide in Luisa. Marisa had all these brand-new feelings rampaging through her, and no one she could share them with. Even if she was confident Luisa wouldn’t hit the roof about Rico – and Luisa most definitelywouldhit the roof – something was going on with her too, an awful instinct telling Marisa this something was to do with Gennaro. It wouldn’t be fair to burden her, not when she had her own problems to deal with, problems she clearly wasn’t ready to share yet.
She would have to burden her at some point though, and soon. Once their time in Accardiano was over, she would have to tell her family. She couldn’t hide something like this from them indefinitely, and there was a painful awareness living in her that lies of omission were still lies.
If she could get Luisa’s support about Rico, then it would make it easier for her parents to allow themselves to support her too. She didn’t imagine for a moment they would disown her or anything like that, but their blessing meant everything.
“Are you coming to the casino?” Luisa asked, breaking through her morbid thoughts.
“I’ve got a headache.” Although it wasn’t the reason she didn’t want to go, it wasn’t a lie. Everything felt so right andnatural when she was in Rico’s arms. When away from him, it all turned into a nightmare of guilt and confusion.
She didn’t want to go to the casino because she couldn’t bear to spend an evening sharing a roof with him and having to keep her distance. It had been hard enough trying to eat her dinner with him in full view of her.
A short while later, she rose with her parents, who were retiring to their room, and as she stood, she caught the eye of Tommaso Esposito. Something in the way he was looking at her made her hackles rise, but it was the wink he dropped at her when she looked back at him as they left the restaurant that made Marisa suddenly certain he knew what was going on between her and Rico.
Seeing her parents to their room, her heart lightened when her father wanted to sit on the balcony and share a bottle of wine with his wife. Marisa kissed them both goodnight and left for her own room.
Slipping out onto her balcony, she breathed in the scent of cigarette smoke coming from the adjoining one and smiled at the accompanying laughter. She was glad her parents were relaxing into their break here. After all the trials and tribulations of the past few years, they deserved it. Maybe when Luisa and Gennaro’s marriage ended – less than a week to go until they went their separate ways – and Gennaro paid out the last lump sum he’d promised them, her parents could come back here and just relax without the Martinellis and everyone else to fake smiles for. Enjoy the sun and the sea breeze, and just be.
She hoped her marriage to Rico would be as strong as her parents’. Thirty years of marriage and they still loved each other dearly... Oh, but she was jumping aheadof herself. Marriage hadn’t even been mentioned. Not explicitly. One step at a time, she reminded herself before blinking away the sudden image of Tommaso’s wink.
It shouldn’t bother her that Rico had told his brother about her, if indeed he had. Brothers must confide things to each other like sisters did.
She just couldn’t shake the feeling that there had been a hidden meaning behind Tomasso’s wink, almost as if she were the butt of some joke.
But no. She was imagining things and attributing meaning where there was none.
Too restless to go to bed, she tried to lose herself in her book, but it was impossible. Rico was lodged so fully in her mind that he was all she could see. After thirty minutes spent reading the same paragraph and it still failing to register, she threw the book to one side.
This was worse than seeing him and having to keep her distance.
Barely thinking through what she was doing, Marisa touched up her makeup and sprayed herself with fresh perfume.
She closed her door quietly behind her and set off to the ballroom.
Marisa had never been in a casino before, but she’d seen enough of them on television to know what to expect of one. As this was just a makeshift casino in a hotel ballroom, she’d imagined it wouldlooklike a makeshift casino, so to walk inside and feel that she’d just stepped into Vegas took her breath away.
The place was heaving, every gambling table full, every slot machine in use, groups of people not throwing away theirhard-earned money standing in clusters drinking and chatting and laughing, waiting staff weaving around them all delivering drinks and food, taking orders, sidestepping the more amorous guests trying to goose them.
Of Rico, though, there was no sign. Disappointment lashed her tightly, a feeling that grew when she spotted her sister and Gennaro saying goodbye to a large crowd in the bar. Marisa didn’t know any of the other guests well enough to feel comfortable joining them, and she kicked herself for not coming straight here with Luisa after dinner instead of kidding herself that not seeing Rico at all was better than seeing him from a distance.
What was she to do now?
She watched her sister and brother-in-law disappear from the ballroom without noticing her. Gennaro’s hand was on Luisa’s back, a stiffness in both their postures, and for the first time, she wondered if something was going on with them. Surely not? Luisa hated him…
Or did she? Marisa’s mind zipped back to Niccolo and Siena’s engagement and her dance with Rico. She’d left the dancefloor fully expecting to have to justify dancing with the antichrist, but Luisa hadn’t mentioned it, and she hadn’t mentioned it because she hadn’t noticed. She hadn’t noticed because all of Luisa’s attention had been on Gennaro.
“Well this is a pleasant surprise,” a deep voice murmured from close behind her.
Her heart clattered, and she breathed in the faint trace of warmed oranges. It clattered even harder when the impossibly tall and broad frame moved to stand next to her and adopted a tone of casual conversation. “What do you think of my casino, Miss Rossellini?”
