Page 27 of The Virgin's Dance with the Devil
Luisa shook her head. “Nothing I can talk about. You know, that damned contract he made me sign.”
The draconian marriage contract that forbade Luisa from ever speaking about their life together.
For the first time since waking, Marisa pulled her thoughts away from Rico and gave her full attention to the sister she so adored. Her beautiful sister wasn’t just on edge, she realised. She was standing on a precipice.
“Luisa?” she said quietly when her sister disappeared again into her thoughts.
Luisa blinked herself back to the present and met Marisa’s stare with a smile that barely touched her cheeks. “Sorry. Just thinking of something I shouldn’t.”
“Gennaro?” But she knew she was right even before Luisa’s hopeless nod of confirmation. Of course it was Gennaro. She couldn’t remember a time when Luisa hadn’t been affected by him, right from when they’d been little girls and Luisa had hidden behind their mother when he walked into a room…
The hairs on the nape of her neck lifted, her heart expanding, tearing her away from her train of thought a beat before Rico strolled past them. He was with the older of his brothers, Mattia.
Her throat opened, and it took all her willpower to close it and not call out his name.
Maybe he heard her shout it in her head because his face turned, and his gaze zoomed straight to her.
If Luisa hadn’t slipped back into her own thoughts, she would have seen the look that passed between them, and she would have known, and Marisa would have been unable to deny it.
She didn’twantto deny it. She loved Rico, and she wanted her family to love him too, and it made her heart hurt to know the most she could expect was resigned acceptance.
He broke the look between them, elbowing his brother and nodding at the sisters.
Luisa sawthat,and she muttered something under her breath as the Esposito brothers strode over to join them. Marisa couldn’t make out what it was, but the tone of her voice was disparaging, and for the very first time in her life, Marisa felt the urge to stamp on her sister’s foot.
The mean, violent thought washed away when Rico casually dropped himself into the empty chair to her right, immediately filling her senses with warm oranges.
“Good morning, ladies,” he said with a wide grin. “How are you both this beautiful day?”
“We’re fine, thank you,” Marisa answered with more serenity than her fluttering heart should allow, “Although it’s no longer morning.”
He looked at his chunky watch. “Damn. I’ve even missed brunch.” His dancing eyes found hers again. “I’m starving.”
The flame in her pelvis flickered.
Suddenly aware she’d twisted to face him and that her body language was that of a woman straining towards him, she had to force herself to twist back to the position she’d been in before.
A couple of Siena’s friends came over to join them. No sooner had they all ordered coffees than more people came over, forcing them to pull their chairs closer together. Rico was the first to do so, edging his chair so close to Marisa’s that thearms of their chairs rested together… and so did their thighs and forearms.
How she got through the next thirty minutes without spontaneously combusting was a mystery to be solved in another life. She barely noticed when Gennaro and Niccolo joined them. It felt like she was on fire, especially when Rico put his hand on his lap and his fingers tiptoed to edge against her bare thigh. A form of madness came over her, and she put her hands on her own lap so their fingers could touch, the tips pressing together.
When the conversation enthusiastically turned to that evening’s masquerade ball, he murmured for her ears only, “I cannot wait to see what you’re wearing tonight.”
She tightened the pressure of her fingers against his. He returned it.
The phones of the groom and all the groomsmen present buzzed simultaneously. The summons for their suit fittings.
The tips of Rico’s fingers trapped the tips of hers for barely a second before he got to his feet. Shouting out a goodbye to everyone, he pushed his chair back, and as he wove around the back of her, his fingers brushed along her shoulder blades.
Marisa watched him walk away and supposed it was lucky that Luisa was too busy watching Gennaro walk away, too, to have noticed her little sister practically melt at Rico Esposito’s touch.
The hours that followed were the longest of Marisa’s life. The restlessness that had driven her to seek Rico out at the casino had returned, but there was no way of snatching any time with him. She just had to wait it out. At least, that’s what she knew rationally, but one thing she was learning was that where the heart was concerned, rationality could do a running jump, andso when Luisa said she was going to take a look at the hotel’s art gallery, Marisa declined to join her. The minute her sister was out of sight, Marisa raced to her room for her beach bag and then speed-walked to the beach.
‘Their’ Bali bed was free. She settled herself on it and though she knew the odds of Rico finishing his suit fitting with time to spare to join her were negligible – and that the odds of him being a mind reader and intuiting she would be there waiting for him on the off chance he found the time were even worse – just being in the space they’d shared so intimately helped ease the restlessness. It didn’t stop the time crawling, though.
She left it as late as she reasonably could before accepting he wasn’t going to join her and returning to the hotel.
It was time to get ready for the masquerade ball.
