Page 14 of The Virgin's Dance with the Devil
Marisa stayed close to her parents as they entered The Bianchi’s bustling main restaurant. She’d taken only two steps when she saw Rico. Her heart, already weighty with sick anticipation, burst into a canter.
All tall, dark and gorgeous in a black shirt open at the throat and trousers, his dark hair quiffed back, he was talking to one of his brothers and a group of other men she recognised from the engagement party.
A beat after she’d spotted him, his gaze locked onto hers. Barely another beat passed before Marisa looked away, but itwas a beat enough for them to exchange the glimmer of a smile.
God help her, her feelings for him had mushroomed. The few hours she’d spent apart from him had been spent in a form of suspended animation, their time together on the beach replaying itself over and over in her head. Especially their kiss, and she had to fight not to think about it now because every time she recalled it, heat flushed through her body.
She could still feel the movement of his lips against hers as he’d coaxed her lips apart.
If her first kiss had been the most disgusting experience of her life, her second had been the most heavenly.
She hadn’t wanted it to end.
So caught up was she in not looking back at him as every fibre of her being longed to do that she didn’t register that they’d been placed on a table with Giuseppe and Carmella Martinelli until she caught her mother’s muttered curse.
“Chill,” Marisa whispered, selfishly glad of the distraction. “Save the stabbing until there’s no witnesses.”
Her mother squeezed her hand.
Mercifully, Carmella’s parents were already seated with them, allowing Pietro and Sofia to use them as a buffer. Having helped her father sit down and folded his walking stick, Marisa took the seat next to her mother. The two empty seats separating her and Carmella were for Luisa and Gennaro, and she sent a quick, selfish prayer to God to make them hurry up.
It was like the two couples were invisible to each other. There was zero eye contact between them. When Marisa met Carmella’s eye, she automatically smiled, then felt so guilty that she immediately looked away, glancing over her shoulder… and immediately caught Rico’s eye.
Her heart making a good attempt at exploding out of her chest, Marisa poured herself a glass of water. Her hand was shaking almost as much as her father’s, and she wasgrateful when a waiter came to take their drink order, even more grateful when her sister and brother-in-law finally turned up.
“Is it me or is it cold enough to freeze the Sahara?” Luisa whispered as she slid into the chair beside Marisa.
Marisa grimaced in response.
Wine was poured, and after both sisters had taken a healthy drink of it, Luisa turned back to her. “How come you were so late arriving?”
“We were late setting off,” she answered. Her heart thumped again at the thought of her sister probingwhythey were late setting off. Marisa found it impossible to lie, but how could she explain that she’d overslept because she’d been awake until the early hours in a state of heightened excitement over Rico Esposito? Luisa would kill her. Or kill Rico.
Luisa’s eyes narrowed. She’d clearly picked up on something in her voice or manner. “Has something happened to Dad?”
“No,” she was quick to reassure her. “He’s been fine these last few days.” No point in telling her the drive had worn him out. That was to be expected. Even short drives wore him out, but his long nap on arrival had done him the world of good.
Any further probing by her sister was cut short by the waiter returning for everyone’s food order.
The dinner was the longest meal Marisa had ever endured. For some reason she’d selected gnocchi as her main course, which reminded her – as if she needed reminding – of her first meal with Rico, and she had to fight harder than ever not to cast her stare around the restaurant in search of him.
Nerves and indecision about what to do after dinner had her drinking more wine than she normally would. Frightened she was close to being drunk, she drank a pint of water andrefused a liqueur after she’d forced every crumb of her dessert down her throat to soak up the alcohol.
Excusing herself to use the ladies, she took her handbag with her and was shocked to see the feverishness of her face. After fanning herself with her hand, she added a light cover of powder to dull the fevered effect and retouched her lipstick. Her efforts were in vain when she left the bathroom, and the first person she saw was Rico. He was sitting in an alcove with his family, his back angled away from her, but that glimpse was enough to set the fever back off.
He must have felt her stare because barely three steps later, he turned his head and his gaze zoomed straight to her. Another glimmer of a smile passed between them, a smile that sent such a rush through her that she knew she couldn’t bear to spend the rest of the evening without even a few minutes alone with him.
So strong was her need to be with him that terror at the depth of it struck her in the throat and stopped her breathing.
Rico lingered over his liqueur and chatted with his parents about the following evening’s casino theme, assuring them everything was in hand. For one night only, The Bianchi Hotel’s ballroom would be transformed into an Esposito Casino. All the hundreds of guests enjoying the pre-wedding celebrations, including the snobby Martinellis and all their snooty friends, would be obliged to spend their money on swelling the Espositos’ coffers. He couldn’t think of anything sweeter… except, perhaps, Marisa.
His brothers had gone into Accardiano. They’d both grinned knowingly when Rico had said he’d catch up with them later, but behind the smiles, he smelled fear, a smell that madehimsmile. It was against the rules for them tointerfere in his pursuit of Marisa. When the Esposito brothers bet amongst themselves, the stakes were always big. This particular bet had the highest stakes they’d ever laid. Mattia, in particular, was very attached to his Swiss chalet, which would make it an even greater pleasure when he handed over the title deeds and keys for it. His face when Rico casually mentioned that Marisa had the sweetest taste in the world had been one he wished he’d filmed. It was the exact expression Mattia would have given if he’d swallowed a wasp.
His mother excused herself, kissing her husband and son on the cheeks before heading off for drinks at the cocktail bar with her sister. As soon as she was out of earshot, his father leaned in and, in an undertone so none of the remaining extended family could hear, said, “Anything to report?”
“No. Everything’s under control.” And from the most unexpected source.
When Rico’s chief spy had informed him that Georgia Thomas’s sister had flown to Naples that morning, Rico had hit the roof because by the time Rico had been informed, she’d been in their country long enough to disappear. He’d threatened to sack – and worse – the whole team if a full report on her whereabouts wasn’t issued within the hour.
