Page 18 of Forging Caine

Part of me did, part of me still expected the jealous rage that caused him to fly home in December. Sometimes it seemed like Antonio had always been in my life, but when the doubts crept in, it was like a sign reading ‘You’ve only known him for ten months’ started flashing over his head. “I know.”

“But it can be difficult for me to think of you confiding about things we’ve done together with someone who dislikes me.”

I’d been relieved when Nathan confronted me a month after my return from Italy. It meant I could talk to someone about what happened. But then he started in with the overprotective big brother act, which rapidly changed my mind. “Or you just can’t handle anyone not liking you?”

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “It’s a rare person who can resist me.”

I rolled my eyes intentionally and opened my door. “C’mon, we’ve got places to go.”

“Hey, now!” he called, getting out from the driver’s seat. No doubt there’d be hell to pay for opening my own door.

At least two dozen cars lined either side of the road in front of Cass and Kevin’s house, three more in the semi-circular driveway of their two-story brick and white vinyl colonial. The porch stretched the full width of the house and was draped with balloons and streamers, as though they were celebrating my niece’s or nephew’s birthday.

Music poured out from the house and a pair of women sat on a bench on the porch.

I held the car door, closing it as he hurried around to my side. “I am fully capable of—”

“It’s not about capability.” He snatched my hand and yanked my body flush against his, holding me so close I had to lean my torso back to see him clearly. “It’s about being a gentleman.”

“A gentleman would walk me up to the house, rather than making a scene.”

“This is not a scene,” he said, the corner of his mouth climbing slowly, causing half the energy in my body to collect between my thighs.

“Don’t you dare.” I pushed against his chest as one of his hands slid from my waist to my hip, despite how much I wanted him to continue. “Iwillknee you.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” He chuckled low in his throat and lifted his errant hand so it threaded into my hair. He closed the distance I’d made, bringing his lips to my ear. “You want me as badly as I want you. I can feel your heat.”

I took in a sharp breath. Damn him. At least his face was hidden behind mine from any prying eyes. “We still need to see Fiori at nine.”

His teeth raked across the shell of my earlobe. “How wet are you?”

“Sam!” called one woman from the porch. “Who’s your friend?”

“See?” I squirmed against him, not about to admit he was right. “A total scene.”

“I have a theory,” he said as he straightened, releasing his grip and taking me by the hand. “That the more I do things like that, the more accustomed you’ll become to public displays of affection, and then I’ll be able to kiss you anywhere, anytime I choose.”

“Or I’ll just become numb to it.” Semi-free, I waved to the women. One of them worked with Cass and the other was a friend of hers from college. I couldn’t remember either of their names.

Antonio and I rounded to the trunk and he retrieved the bottle of Macallan he’d brought—the same one in the purple and gold box that had won over my brother-in-law at Christmas. “I doubt that very much, amore.”

“PrinceAnnonio!”squealedEmma,as she tore down the curved staircase into the foyer before the door had shut behind us. My almost four-year-old niece wore a sparkly purple dress with a tulle skirt and the FBI vest I’d given her for her last birthday. She’d fallen in love with Antonio at Christmas, when he’d drawn coloring pages of various princesses for her. “Come push me on my swing!”

“Of course, principessa.” Antonio handed me the scotch and knelt in front of Emma. “Where is the evil knight?”

“In his room. Yelling at video games.” She was referring to her older brother, Logan. Eleven now, and deeply into tween angst.

“Alright,” he stage-whispered over the din of voices. He took her hand and stood to give me a peck on the cheek. “We must be silent so he does not hear all the fun we’re having.”

Warmth pooled in my chest as I watched them head down the hallway and into the kitchen on their way to the back door. He was always charming little girls. And big girls. Cass’s friends on the front porch had both given him obvious once-overs. Not that I could blame them. He should have been a model instead of an art conservator.

Although he was amazing at conservation, so he’d made the right choice. Plus—I sighed—I never would have met him if he’d gone into modeling.Except for that time in college, when you turned him down.

“Emma went through—”

I startled, turning to see my sister next to me.

“—three dresses choosing that one. She said she was picking it out for the prince.” Cass wore a simple white blouse and black pants, her wavy brown hair in her new trademark super-short bob. She handed me a glass of red wine. “And she’s hoping he’ll draw more coloring pages for her.”

---