Читать книгу Educating Gina - Debbi Rawlins, Debbi Rawlins - Страница 9

“MADRE DIO.” Gina’s gaze flew toward the living room. For all her brave words, she did not want her uncle to see her like this.

“Go to your room. I’ll tell him you’re napping.”

Not anxious to be sent back on the next plane, she started to obey when the door opened.

She would never make it to her room before Antonio saw her. To her left was a closed door. She grabbed Mike’s sleeve and pulled him into the dark room with her. Only, it was a closet.

“What the hell did you do—?” Mike cut himself off at the sound of her uncle calling for her. He muttered a word she did not understand, his warm breath gliding across her cheek.

The closet was small and crowded and they were pressed so close together, Gina could hardly breathe. She moved her right arm and her breast rubbed against him. At his sharp intake of breath she froze.

Only one other time had she been this close to a boy. Diego was a classmate’s brother and he had been all hands. It had been fun and exciting at first, but then he scared her by reaching between her legs. When he would not stop as she had asked, she had bitten his arm.

But Mike’s hands were nowhere near her. She wondered what he would do if she placed her palms on his chest. She smiled when she realized there was nothing he could do. Not without alerting her uncle. And Mike would not do that.

“Mike?” she whispered.

“Shh.” He put a finger to her lips, missing at first in the darkness, but then finding her and making her heart race like a runaway horse.

She parted her lips ever so slightly, and he let his finger trail away, dragging across her lower lip as he withdrew. A warmth spread over her body, and she closed her eyes and snuggled closer, pressing her breasts lightly to his chest.

His heart beat wildly against her. She swallowed hard. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to put his arms around her. She wanted—

Her uncle coughed, and she jumped. It sounded as if he was just on the other side of the door.

Mike’s arms instantly came up to hold her still. She laid her cheek and one palm against his chest. He didn’t move at first, and then he tightened his hold. Not much, but enough to make her knees weak.

Tentatively she splayed her hand on his chest. He jerked slightly and then stilled, and she did not think she imagined that his hand moved down her back. Just a little, and not in an obvious way, but it was enough of a caress to cause goose bumps to march down her arms.

She stood on tiptoe so she could get close to his ear and whispered, “What are we going to do?”

Mike wished like hell he knew. If he wasn’t so damned aroused, he’d be angry as all get-out. Gina hiding in the closet was one thing. The two of them—together—could he explain that to Antonio?

He lowered his head to her ear. Soft silky strands of hair brushed his jaw. Her exotic scent briefly robbed him of all thought. She was so close she had to feel the erection that wouldn’t quit. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

“We’ll have to sit tight,” he finally managed to whisper, and when she abruptly tilted her head back, he realized she probably didn’t understand the phrase.

He didn’t bother trying to explain. She’d keep quiet. That was what counted. He had to think. Which wasn’t easy with her breasts rubbing against his chest. He shifted, hoping for more distance, and her hip stroked his arousal. Sucking in a breath didn’t help. It only pushed him in harder against her breasts.

Like a flash of lightning, it occurred to him that he still had his arms around her. He loosened them and his hands fell to the curve of her backside. Fighting the temptation to cup her to him required every ounce of his willpower.

Gina was like the girls in high school he’d watched from afar but never had the nerve to ask out. They were the cheerleaders and song leaders, and God forbid they’d go out with anyone who didn’t throw a football.

“Mike?” She touched his chest to get his attention. Yeah, that did it, all right. “I think my uncle has gone into the bathroom,” she whispered, her warm, intoxicating breath another nail in his coffin.

Dammit. He should have been listening for Antonio.

“Mike?”

“Wait.” With his thumb, he touched her lips. They were moist, and he had the insane urge to lower his head and kiss them.

Her hand moved restlessly against his chest. She had to be able to feel his heart pounding—pounding so hard he thought it might explode. That wasn’t the only thing about to explode, and he knew she could feel that, too.

He straightened, listened and thought he heard a water faucet. That was enough for him. He disengaged himself from her tempting hands, carefully turned the knob. A quick glance down the hall assured him the coast was clear.

“Go to your room. Now,” he said, and took off out the apartment door as though the devil himself was on his heels.

MIKE WAS THE FIRST one in the office the next morning. He got there early, about six-thirty, after a nightmare woke him before the alarm went off. In the dream, Antonio and his brother-in-law, Augie, had chased Mike with butcher knives. They had nearly caught up to him when he’d bolted upright in bed in a cold sweat.

The memory made him look over his shoulder as he turned on the office lights. After he got the coffee started, he emptied his In box and started to sift through the reports and invoices that required his attention.

His mind kept wandering to Gina. She wasn’t easy to figure out. Did she have her family fooled? Or had she really been that sheltered? He couldn’t deny the unguarded innocence in her eyes or the uncertainty in her voice when she tried to assert herself. Don’t judge a book by its cover was one of his mother’s favorite sayings. Gina made a good case for that old adage.

“Hey, Mike.”

At the sound of Antonio’s voice, Mike jumped and dropped his pen. It rolled toward his desk clock. Seven-fifteen. “What are you doing here so early?”

Antonio grunted and reached into his pocket for a cigar. “It’s Gina.”

Shit! He was going to get fired. Or worse.

“I couldn’t go out last night,” Antonio said. “I had to stay home with her and got too damn much sleep. Where were you?”

“Me? Home. I, uh, figured she was too tired to go anywhere.”

“Tired? She drove me crazy. She has a list this long of places to go.” He held his hands an exaggerated distance apart. “I told her she has to wait for you to take her. I don’t know these young people’s hangouts.”

“I thought she liked hanging around libraries and computers.”

Antonio snorted. “Her mother likes her hanging around libraries and computers. Sophia is too old-fashioned. Gina should go to a dance or a movie sometimes. She should do what other young girls do.”

Mike didn’t think so, but he kept his mouth shut.

Antonio eyed the stack of paper in front of Mike. “You are not planning to work today.”

“I have a few calls to make and—”

“No. Gina is at home eating breakfast. She will be ready in an hour. Today I want you to take her to Central Park.”

“Maybe Robert can—”

Antonio gave his head an emphatic shake. “Robert is going to New Jersey to check a location for a new distribution center.”

“In Jersey?” That didn’t make sense. Not if they were looking into a West Coast site. They couldn’t afford two new locations at once.

Antonio shrugged. “It’s close and cheaper than any of the boroughs.”

“Why didn’t I know about this?”

“No decision has been made.” Antonio waved an impatient hand. “Worry about Gina. Your work can wait.”

Mike bit back a curse. What the hell was going on? Was the West Coast proposal just a carrot to keep him placated for a while? He had to talk to Robert. “I’ll take care of your niece.”

“Good.” Antonio reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash stuck in a gold money clip. He threw a couple of large bills on Mike’s desk. “Tell her to buy something nice, huh?”

Mike watched him leave. He’d always liked Antonio. The man had been good to Mike’s mother, paying her a more-than-reasonable salary and being generous with bonuses for Christmas and her birthday. He’d been generous with Mike, as well. But he didn’t like the way Antonio ignored Gina. For all his talk about family being everything, he sure didn’t have much time for his niece.

Of course the Scarpetti men’s attitudes toward women were not always admirable. Not that they overtly disrespected them, but they coddled them too much, failed to give them enough credit for having any sense outside the home.

It surprised Mike that Gina had attended college. Made him wonder what she planned to do with her education. Probably enter the family business on the Italian end, where they made the wine. It was logical she’d stay there where her father and Antonio’s older brother Guisseppi ran the vineyard and harvested the grapes.

Other options could keep her in Europe, as well. Antonio’s other brother, Dominic, headed the wine distribution in Paris, and the younger one, Pietro, handled the marketing and warehousing in Rome. Gina would do well on the sales side of things. What red-blooded man wouldn’t want to place an enormous order with her? Sexist, he knew, but it was the reality of the male-dominated business.

So why did the idea annoy the hell out of him? Why his sudden interest in Gina’s future? He had enough to worry about keeping her out of trouble for the next month. And not getting himself fired.

He plowed through the paperwork that couldn’t wait, left a voice mail for Robert to contact him as soon as he got back and then grabbed a cab and headed home. If he was going to spend the day in Central Park, it wouldn’t be in a suit.

GINA SAT ON THE WINDOWSILL, staring down at the crowded sidewalk, watching the streams of people hurry to work. Many of the women wore suits and tennis shoes. An odd but practical combination, she figured, envious of their freedom of choice.

She wished she owned a suit. Mama thought they looked too manly. As if the ugly black dresses she liked Gina to wear were not too grandmotherly.

Sighing, she checked her watch. Would Mike ever show up? She hoped he was not angry about yesterday. All her courage had faded when she heard Zio Antonio outside the door, and she panicked. No harm had been done, though. Her uncle thought she had been in her room alone.

She slid off the sill and adjusted her skirt. Wearing skirts so short was not easy. She was constantly tugging and pulling and trying not to feel self-conscious. Some of her school friends had encouraged her. They wore skirts equally short, some of them even in front of their parents.

The knock at the door had her tripping over the unfamiliar high heels, and she hopped to the door on one leg, trying to adjust the fit. Before she opened it, she slipped the other shoe back on.

Mike did not look happy, and her mood fell. “Gina, why didn’t you ask who it was before you opened the door?”

She shrugged, more interested in the snug fit of his jeans and black T-shirt. “I knew it was you. Zio Antonio said you were coming.”

His gaze ran down the front of her, something in his eyes making her get hot and prickly. “Since I didn’t call from downstairs for you to buzz me in, you should have been more cautious. Next time find out who it is before you unlock the door. New York is not the safest place.”

“Why are you trying to frighten me?”

“I’m just trying to make you more aware.” He walked in and locked the door behind him. “Your uncle told me you wanted to go to Central Park.”

“Oh, yes. The sky is so blue and pretty. It would be a perfect day, yes?”

His eyebrows dipped in a frown. “Then why are you dressed like that?”

She looked down at the pink blouse tied at her waist and denim miniskirt. “You do not like this outfit, either?”

“I like it fine, but not for a day in the park. What if you want to sit in the grass?”

“I do not have any pants,” she murmured, and looked away.

“Pardon me?”

“Mama does not think women should wear pants.”

Mike laughed. “And she would want you to wear this?”

His amusement fueled her embarrassment. Sometimes her parents’ old-fashioned attitude made her ashamed. “No, but I sewed this myself in secret. Pants are harder and take longer to make.”

Surprise, then understanding flickered in his eyes, and he smiled. “How would you like a pair of jeans?”

“Oh, yes. The kind with a ripped knee or—”

He chuckled. “Let’s get a whole pair for now, okay?”

WHY DID HE SET himself up for this kind of torture? Mike had never had masochistic tendencies before now. Why had he foolishly thought shopping would be easy with a woman who looked like Gina?

“What about these?” She pranced out of the dressing room and twirled around so that he wouldn’t miss the back view. “Do you like them?”

The faded denim was skintight and accentuated her narrow waist and full hips. Her belly was remarkably flat, considering how he’d seen her wolf down the entire cheeseburger and fries yesterday. Her rear end was round and perfect and begged for a man’s hands—his hands—to mold themselves over the taut curves.

“Mike, are you all right?” she asked, a worried frown wrinkling her brow.

As soon as his heart started again, he’d be fine. “I like the other pair better.”

“But they were too baggy.”

Exactly. “Can you even sit down in those?”

She grinned and walked toward him. “Do you want to see?”

Mike held up a hand. “Never mind.”

No telling what she’d do. He was sitting in the only seat outside the women’s dressing room, which made his lap the likely target for her demonstration. Oh, yeah, that would be great. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t attracted enough attention from the other Bloomingdale shoppers.

Both men and women eyed Gina as she modeled the different styles of jeans. She seemed oblivious to the mixture of envy and admiration in their stares. She was too excited about the whole prospect of shopping.

“I have one more pair to try on.” She spun toward the dressing-room door, then stopped and asked, “May I have two pairs? Per piacere…please?”

If he said no, two guys, who hadn’t once taken their eyes off her, would probably gladly buy her anything she wanted. A woman about his age who’d overheard Gina gave Mike a hostile look as if he was a vile controlling husband.

“Fine. Just hurry up.” He stood and got out his wallet. Antonio had given him a nice piece of change. Enough for the jeans and a dress—an appropriate dress, like maybe a muumuu. Hell, Mike would gladly pay for it himself.

She came out to show him the third pair, which looked so much like the last pair that he didn’t know she’d changed. At Gina’s request, the saleswoman cut off the tags so she could wear them out of the store.

After their purchases were wrapped and paid for, they headed for the escalator. They got as far as the lingerie department. Gina stopped and stared at the red and black silk G-strings on display.

Fear gripped the back of Mike’s neck. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”

Her eyes widened. “Central Park closes?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Gina sidled up and took him by the arm. “Can we not stay for ten more minutes?”

He darted a look at the mannequin wearing the G-string and tried not to think about the way Gina rubbed the inside of his arm.

“Per piacere.” She made her lips look pouty. “I mean, please.”

“Just ten minutes.”

“I promise.” She smiled and then kissed his cheek.

An innocent touch that threatened a major hard-on. Oh, man, he was in bad shape. No way was he going to stand around and watch her select underwear. “I’ll wait for you on the first floor.”

Her expression fell. “Why?”

“Because I have something to do down there.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew some money. “Here.”

“Grazie, but I have my own money.” She lifted her chin and headed in the direction of the G-strings.

What had he done wrong? “Ten minutes,” he called. “At the bottom of the escalator.”

She waved without turning around, which was good enough for him. Let her get her G-string or whatever. He didn’t have to know what she wore under her clothes. And he didn’t have to subject himself to watching her select it.

He used the time to go to the washroom and splash his face with cold water. On the way back to the escalator, he stopped at the men’s cosmetic counter and squirted himself with one of the testers. The stuff smelled nasty, and he let out a rude grunt that netted him several stares. No wonder he never wore any of that junk.

With a minute to spare he arrived at the escalator. No sign of Gina yet. Not that he expected her to be early. She’d been like a kid in a candy store all morning, excited by simply trying on sunglasses. She’d explained that her mother didn’t allow unchaperoned shopping, which basically meant it wasn’t worth going.

Such strict rules and morals were hard to understand. Particularly since Gina seemed to be a good girl, genuinely concerned about what her parents and uncle thought. Even the way she’d wanted to dress had more to do with normal and healthy rebellion than attracting male attention.

That was the thing that floored Mike the most. She didn’t even get how hot she was, or that men tripped over themselves watching her walk across the street. She was more interested in gawking at shop windows and staring at young women with blue hair and navel rings.

He checked his watch. Eighteen minutes. No sign of her coming down the escalator. He’d give her another two and then drag her out of the store.

After another five minutes, he took the escalator steps two at a time up to the lingerie department. He didn’t see her, and flagged a saleswoman.

“I’m looking for my friend,” he said. “Petite, dark hair, pretty—”

She smiled. “Italian accent?”

“That’s her.” The relief he felt was ridiculous. She was probably still in a fitting room.

“Yes, she went that way.” The woman pointed in the opposite direction of the escalator. “With two other gentlemen.”