Il Tavolino
Gabrielle studied the swirl of gold letters above the restaurant across the street. She’d eaten at many Italian restaurants in Vegas, but hadn’t heard of Il Tavolino. But then she didn’t usually come to this part of the city. She didn’t usually chase after mysterious restaurant owners either, but here she was, standing on the sidewalk, waiting for Nicole and Cissy to arrive.
Of course, Nicole had been all over the idea of checking out a new Italian restaurant when Gabrielle phoned her at the casino. Not only that, she’d called up Gabrielle’s childhood friend, Cissy, and they’d convinced Gabrielle to try out the new nightclub that had opened across the street after the meal. But then Nicole had seen Gabrielle at her worst, when she couldn’t breathe for the pain, and not even Max could pull her out of the darkness. Now, if Gabrielle even opened the door a crack, Nicole dove right in.
Gabrielle dropped her gaze from the sign to the restaurant exterior. With its bright-red awning, cheerful yellow paint, and fancy stonework, it had a warm, welcoming feel. Through the huge brightly lit windows, she could see tuxedo-clad waiters, plush banquets, and memorabilia and photos on the walls. It was Old Vegas-meets Old Hollywood and it fit in perfectly with the revival decor.
Laugher. A giggle. “Luca. Stop.”
Gabrielle’s head jerked up and she recognized the man from the hospital right away. She had thought him handsome then, but seeing him now—strong and able-bodied, a fitted suit hugging his powerful frame, his blond hair artfully mussed—her heart sped up and her mouth went dry.
Even from across the street, Gabrielle could see that the woman he was with was beautiful. She wore a tight green dress, four-inch heels, and loads of bling. Her long, dark wavy hair reached almost to the small of her back. She had olive skin and high cheekbones, ruby-red lips and matching nails. Over her shoulder, she carried the kind of designer handbag that Gabrielle could never hope to afford, even on a detective’s salary.
The woman stumbled on a crack and Luca turned, swiftly putting one hand around her waist to steady her, before he pulled her into his body with practiced ease. She laughed loudly, without inhibition, and leaned up to kiss Luca’s cheek.
Damn. All her silly fantasies about seeing him again shattered with that kiss. Of course, a man like that would be with a glamorous woman. Still, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. There was something about the way he held her, confident and controlled, protective and demanding. She imagined his deep rich voice whispering filthy words in liquid Italian, telling her what he was going to do when he got her home.
She felt her loneliness like a sharp ache in her chest after Luca escorted the woman into the restaurant. David had held her like that. He had made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She’d never have that again, and she missed it so fiercely her stomach twisted in a knot. Even if she could drag herself through the dating mill again, she’d never meet a man who loved her the way David did.
So why bother?
“Gaby!” Cissy waved from down the street, just as Nicole rounded the opposite corner. A lawyer, from a family of lawyers, Cissy was one of the first people Gabrielle had met when her father relocated the family to Vegas. Forgotten in the never-ending drama of living with a teenage addict, Gabrielle spent most of her time at Cissy’s house where she could pretend for a short time she was part of a normal family.
As they walked toward her—Cissy in a green pleated-style wrap dress, and Nicole in a bright pink lace overlay dress that matched the pink streak in her light brown hair—Gabrielle immediately regretted her decision to wear black. But her halter-style form-fitting dress edged with sequins was the only dressy thing in her wardrobe that hid the scars on her chest from the bullet that had almost brought her to David again.
“Oh my God,” Cissy shrieked, her voice surprisingly loud for someone with such a tiny frame. “I haven’t seen you in a dress in forever. And your hair! I love it down. I’m so used to seeing you with a ponytail that I sometimes forget how long your hair is. And those shoes…” She pretended to pant over Gabrielle’s three-inch rhinestone-encrusted T-straps. “We’re definitely going to get you hooked-up tonight.”
“I just saw the restaurant owner,” Gabrielle said, trying to hide her disappointment. “He was with someone. I think he’s got a girlfriend, or even a wife. Maybe we should just skip dinner and grab something else before we go to the club.”
“He invited you for a meal, not to bed.” Nicole gripped Gabrielle’s shoulder as if she were afraid Gabrielle might run away. “And good-looking guys have good-looking friends. After such a terrible day at work, you deserve a little fun. Maybe he can introduce us to his friends and we can all have a good time. Lord knows I need it, too.”
“She had a bust-up with Clint this morning after you left for work,” Cissy said, in response to Gabrielle’s puzzled frown.
Gabrielle stopped mid-stride. “Why didn’t you tell me when I called? I wouldn’t have asked you—”
Nicole groaned, cutting her off. “I didn’t want you to know. This is supposed to be your night. And it’s the same old same old. I looked on his computer and saw he had a couple of windows open: ‘Big Wet Tits,’ ‘Ass Good Ass It Gets,’ and my personal favorite, ‘Office Lady Love Juice.’ It’s hard to believe he respects me when he spends his days wanking off to that shit, so I left.”
“He doesn’t respect you, honey.” Gabrielle gave her arm a squeeze. “You’ve got to stop going back to him. You need to set boundaries.”
“Yeah, well … sometimes I’m just not there for him the way he needs me so he has to release some steam. But he’s always sorry after he…” She hesitated, stumbled over her words. “After I catch him, and then we make up. I’m just not ready to start all over again with someone else.” She trailed off when Gabrielle opened the door.
Gabrielle understood Nicole’s reluctance to find someone new. She’d had a few hook-ups since David’s death, but they left her feeling sad and alone. It wasn’t that the guys were unattractive or unkind, but she just didn’t feel anything for them. She didn’t feel at all.
“Where’s the guy?” Cissy whispered as they walked inside.
“He probably won’t remember me.” Gabrielle ran a hand through her hair, finger-combing the waves that she could never get straight. “I’d just been shot, and had come out of surgery. I wasn’t really looking my best.”
“You’re not easy to forget.” Nicole’s mouth dropped open when they walked into the restaurant, and even reserved Cissy gasped as she took in the décor.
Over the top didn’t even begin to describe the sensory overload of Il Tavolino. Gabrielle felt like she’d re-entered the city’s Golden Age—from the tuxedoed waiters doing tableside presentations, to the magnificent plush banquets, and from the Vegas memorabilia on every surface to the elevated stage where a Frank Sinatra impersonator was singing “My Way.” On the walls, framed pictures of old movie stars sat alongside famous Mafia gangsters—Bogart beside Bugsy Siegel, and Frank Sinatra beside Anthony Spilotro. Glass cases containing old 45s and sparkly shoes, an old-fashioned revolver, and a top hat and cane gave the restaurant an old-school elegant feel.
Gabrielle approached the polished-wood reception desk and inquired about a table.
“I’m sorry, ladies.” The maître d’ gave them a sympathetic smile. “Reservations only. We’re fully booked tonight.”
“You didn’t make a reservation?” Cissy frowned at Gabrielle. A control freak, Cissy never went anywhere without having planned out every detail first.
“I thought it was a casual place.” Gabrielle had considered calling ahead, but she hadn’t been sure what to say. Did she tell the person on the other end of the phone that she knew Luca? How awkward would that be? And what if Luca answered the phone? He’d told her to stop by, not call.
At once relieved and disappointed, Gabrielle smiled at the maître d’. “Thanks anyway.” She made a move for the door, desperate to leave in case Luca saw her, hesitating only when her friends didn’t follow.
“She’s a friend of Luca’s,” Nicole said, turning on the charm that encouraged people to keep placing bets at her tables in the casino. “He gave her his card. Her name is Gabrielle Fawkes. Show him the card, Gaby.”
“It’s okay. We’ll come back another time.” Mortified, Gabrielle reached for the door.
“A friend of Mr. Rizzoli?” The maître d’ gave them an appraising look. “If you could wait just a moment ladies, I’ll let him know you’re here.” He disappeared into the packed restaurant, and Gabrielle groaned. “This is going to be so embarrassing. I think we should just go.”
“He wouldn’t have invited you if he didn’t mean it,” Nicole countered.
“Maybe he was just being polite. Or doing what business people do. Everyone hands out cards. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Nicole tipped her head back and groaned. “How many times have you done something like this for me? I’m paying it back, okay? At the very least, we’ll have a nice dinner before we go out and drink and dance our sorrows away.”
Gabrielle touched her locket. “I don’t know. I saw him with that woman and it made me think of David.”
Nicole looked up and over Gabrielle’s shoulder. Her eyes widened at something behind Gabrielle, and she gently unclasped the locket, catching it before it fell. “I think you might want to consider leaving David behind, just for tonight.”
Gabrielle turned and caught her breath when she saw Luca walking toward them. He had removed his jacket, and in his elegant, blue shirt and navy dress pants, he looked like he’d stepped out of a men’s fashion magazine. His partially opened shirt revealed deliciously tanned skin dusted with gold hair, and the hint of a tattoo. His blond hair was longer than she remembered, and there was a sexy hint of stubble shadowing his square jaw.
Her pulse kicked up a notch, and she had to remind herself that he was taken, and by a beautiful woman he obviously adored.
“Oh, my God,” Cissy whispered. “My ovaries just exploded.”
* * *
Dio mio.
She had come to him.
His breathtaking, incandescent, golden-haired angel.
Luca drank in the long, loose tumble of her hair, the long legs that he could easily imagine wrapped around his waist, the slight flush on her beautiful face. She wore a tight black dress that exposed her shoulders and clung to her generous breasts, teasing him with a hint of the treasure that lay beneath. Her soft curves begged for a man’s touch. Hell, his angel was built to be fucked.
She licked her plump pink lips, and his imagination went into overdrive, assailing him with a vision of those sensual lips wrapped around his cock. Their gazes met and held. Hunger shimmered in the depths of her Siren eyes, luring him forward until he could think of nothing but covering her body with his.
Christ. This was fucking crazy. He didn’t go for blondes or women who would blush beneath the appraising gaze of a man. He liked his woman dark, bold, loud, and brash. The kind of woman who loudly demanded a man’s attention, not unassumingly drew it in with a quiet confidence and a sensual smile.
“Gabrielle. You look well.” He leaned down and kissed her on both cheeks, eschewing the conventional handshake for the intimacy of an Italian greeting simply because he wanted to get closer, touch the bloom on her skin. Her scent—wildflowers, bold and sweet—intoxicated him. He could get lost in that scent, in the softness of her hair, in the cornflower depths of her beautiful eyes. His body brushed against hers, and he felt her tremble, sending another wave of hot lust coursing through his body.
“So do you,” she said softly. “How is your injury?”
“A distant memory.” He waved a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t trouble me.”
“These are my friends, Nicole and Cissy.” She gestured to the two women behind her, both pretty and no doubt already the talk of the table of wiseguys in the corner. Of all the nights she had to come, it had to be the same one Nico had chosen for a dinner meeting at the restaurant with his top capos and soldiers.
“I should have called ahead,” she continued. “But I didn’t realize we needed a reservation. I understand you’re booked tonight.”
They were fully booked, but there was no way he was letting his angel walk out the door. “I always have a table free for my friends.” With a hand on Gabrielle’s lower back he escorted her toward one of tables he reserved exclusively for members of his crime family who had made his restaurant their permanent home.
“Luca, darling, the girls and I have been waiting for our drinks for evah.” Marta, who had been seated with her friends at a table in the center of the restaurant, intercepted them and wound her hand around his arm, digging her long red nails into his bicep. She had been his mistress when he and Gina were married, but he’d stopped seeing her after Gina died, unable to disassociate her from that terrible period of his life. They’d remained friends, but Marta never stopped trying for more.
“I’ll be there in a moment after I settle these guests.”
Marta’s gaze narrowed on Gabrielle as if she sensed she was no ordinary customer. “Who is she?”
“A friend.” His curt tone caused her eyes to widen, but she knew him well enough to let the matter drop.
“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” Gabrielle said quietly after Marta returned to her table.
“You didn’t.” His gaze lingered on her a moment too long and she blushed.
Fuck. He wanted to make her blush for another reason, and one that didn’t involve them wearing any clothes.
Lennie, the assistant manager and maître d’, arrived with the menus after Luca seated Gabrielle and her friends.
“They won’t need the menus,” Luca said, waving the leather-bound folders away. “Bring some antipasti, a little prosciutto e melone, salame and formaggi. After that they’ll have some linguine di mare, and pasta al forno. Then a little agnello and polpettone, insalata mista and pepperoni al forno. For dessert, they can have pasticcini and a little babà. I’ll select the wine myself.” He looked over at Gabrielle who was watching him rapt. “How does that sound?”
“Beautiful.” She reddened and glanced down. “I mean … the food. The food sounds good, but we can’t—”
“On the house, bella,” he said firmly when he saw her gaze drop to her purse.
“Thank you.” Her voice was as sexy as her fucking gorgeous face, and he wondered how he’d get through the rest of the evening staying away from her table.
What the hell had gotten into him? He’d been around beautiful women before. Hell, he’d made a point of being surrounded by beautiful women. So why did being near Gabrielle make him feel like an awkward teenager all over again?
He heard a disturbance at the door. Nico and the capos had arrived. Although Luca had been expecting them, he was almost annoyed to have business intrude on what could have been an entirely pleasurable evening.
After attending to Nico’s table, Luca selected some wine and returned to Gabrielle’s table.
“You don’t need to spend all your time with us,” she said, glancing over at the now rowdy table of wiseguys in the corner. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.”
Puzzled, Luca frowned. “This is what men do. They look after their women. They keep them safe and provide them with food.”
Her lips quirked, amused. “Maybe in the Stone Age. Women today can look after themselves.”
Luca twisted the cork out of the wine bottle. “Shame. Things were easier in those days. You see a woman you like, and if she gives you the okay smile, you grab her by the hair, drag her to your cave, and have your way with her.”
“I’ll be sure not to smile around you.” Her lips quivered at the corners.
Luca laughed. “Too late, bella. Your smile lights up the room.”
She blushed again, her cheeks turning a delightful pink, and he was greedy for more. He wanted to know who she was, what she did for a living, what she was afraid of, how she got shot, and which of the dishes he’d presented to her she liked best. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t usually take the time to get to know the women he wanted to fuck. There was no banter or light conversation, no risk of falling for a woman who might betray him. Until this moment it had been a satisfactory existence, but now he felt a longing for something more.
He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips.” I wonder, would you blush so prettily if I took you to my cave tonight?”
Usually, that’s all it took. Seduction came as easily to him as breathing. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been denied. So he struggled to contain his shock when she shook her head. “You’ll never know.”
“We’re clubbing at Glamour tonight,” Nicole added. “Have you been there? It’s right across the street.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure.” He had no interest in nightclubs where everybody was drunk or high and the music was so loud conversation was next to impossible. He preferred to socialize in places with a more intimate feel—bars, cafes, and restaurants, the Toscani clubhouse or family gatherings. Maybe it was his Italian heritage that made him value the warmth of intimacy over cold anonymity, but if his angel was going to be at Glamour, he could get over his issues for just one night.
“Too bad.” Nicole sighed. “We haven’t heard much about it. I hope we’re not wasting our time.”
Guaranteed, they wouldn’t be wasting their time because the minute they walked in the door, they’d have half the men all over them and the other half wishing they had the balls.
He reluctantly left them to join Nico and the capos, although no actual business would be conducted until the meal was done.
“Which one do I get?” Frankie asked as Luca took his seat. The dark-haired enforcer rarely hooked up with women, at least to Luca’s knowledge. If he did have a girlfriend, he kept it very quiet although Luca couldn’t imagine any woman who would want to spend time with someone as cold and hard as Frankie. Nico’s enforcer put even icebergs to shame
“None.”
“I’ll take the blonde. She looks like a screamer.”
Fucking Frankie was pushing his buttons. Far too astute, there was little that Frankie didn’t see, and Luca had made no effort to hide his interest in Gabrielle. Usually, he would just brush it off, but something about Gabrielle set off his possessive instincts and before he even realized he’d moved, he was halfway across the table with Frankie’s jacket collar in his fist.
“Fuck you.”
Frankie’s eyes turned black as pitch, and his lips peeled back in a snarl. Luca didn’t need to look down to know Frankie’s gun was pointed at him under the table.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Nico barked from the other end of the table. “Let him go.”
Luca released Frankie, pushing him away.
“This is why we have ten fucking commandments.” Nico’s sharp gaze settled on Frankie. “One of which is not to look at the women of our friends.”
“She’s kinda hard to miss.” Frankie leaned back in his chair, his leather jacket creaking as he folded his arms across his chest.
Luca’s blood started pumping when he looked over at Gabrielle’s table and realized she and her friends were about to leave. He gave his excuses to Nico, and intercepted Gabrielle on her way to the door. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to chase a woman, and the thought of pursuing Gabrielle made his heart pound.
“Thank you for a lovely evening.” She turned to face him in the entrance, and his hand instinctively curled around her waist as if he could stop her from leaving. “The food was amazing. It was so nice of you to comp us the dinner.” Her body trembled under his touch, and he tightened his grip, drawing her gently forward, his adrenaline still pumping after his altercation with Frankie. Their eyes held, heat filling the space between them.
“Luca.” She breathed his name, nibbled her bottom lip.
He wanted to kiss her, hold her, feel her soft, sexy body pressed up against him. With his free hand, he cupped her jaw, stroked his thumb over her cheek. “Non posso fare a meno di pensarti.”
He wasn’t lying. He hadn’t been able to think about anything but her since the second she walked in the door.
Her face softened, and her body swayed toward him. “What does that mean? Everything you say in Italian sounds beautiful.”
“You are beautiful.” He leaned down and kissed both her cheeks, his lips lingering on her soft skin. “I want to kiss your beautiful lips,” he murmured.
He expected her to laugh or blush, definitely pull away. Instead, she turned her head just enough that his lips brushed over hers, and the taste of her set him on fire.
Desire spiked through his groin, that whisper of a kiss as potent as if she had wrapped her hand around his cock. His arm slid around her waist and he pulled her in to his body, sealing his mouth over hers the way he’d wanted to do since the moment she walked in the door.
The world disappeared. Nico and his capos sitting at the table near the stage. Lennie running around with the meals. The waiters and servers. The hostess. The customers. The band. Everything faded away when she moaned his name into his mouth and melted against him, her generous breasts pressed soft and warm against his chest. If they hadn’t been in the middle of the restaurant, he wouldn’t have stopped with a kiss. Hell, he was of a mind not to stop anyway.
“Luca.” This time his name was tinged with warning, and when she brought up a hand between them, he retreated with a low groan.
“This is crazy. I barely know you,” she said quietly.
“Then stay. Get to know me.”
“I can’t ditch my friends.” She leaned up, her lips grazing his ear. “And I’m not that easy.”
His breath left him in a rush. It was a challenge and all the more erotic because he hadn’t expected it. He’d thought her sweetly submissive, but she was something else entirely.
A mystery to be solved.