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GUNNER COULDN’T CONCENTRATE on his task. After Izzy had left he’d collected and sorted the heaping papers from the floor. The misplaced pages weren’t as tangled as he’d first assumed and shortly after aligning them properly, he poured himself a coffee with a shot of whiskey to take off the edge.
Leaning his hip against the counter, he looked over the mountains of papers remaining. A good week or two, minimum. Rubbing his hand over his face, he took a deep breath, trying to scrub away the guilt munching at him over the events no amount of reading would help him escape.
The truth behind the door hadn’t been his to reveal. Now, her traumatized expression haunted him like a miserable joke.
Damn it.
He didn’t want all this. For the love of his sanity, he simply wanted to live in his cabin without all this drama.
He slammed the coffee mug on the counter sloshing the contents out around it. Both hands followed, leaving a pathetic sting on his palms.
Wasn’t that the truth. He’d rather be at home where he’d lived alone for years, where he felt safe, and had built a life he’d accepted his remaining days would be spent. But now, now, Anton had promised he could walk free. In two weeks, maybe one, he’d have permission to walk away with no ties to the mafia. Anton’s deceased brother’s would no longer carry a vendetta with him and he would be free.
And that scared the living shit out of him.
He couldn’t be certain freedom was the right path for him. Or if he even wanted it. What the hell was he supposed to do with freedom? It had been so long; he wasn’t sure what living a real life felt like anymore.
Izzy’s reaction to the room had been real. Deep down he knew his motives for showing her had been selfish. He’d been aspiring to catch a glimpse of the real Izzy Caliendo. But who she revealed hadn’t been the person he’d been expecting.
She’d surprised him. The humanity lost on his ex-wife, Izzy unveiled. Most Caliendo women weren’t surprised over the grueling activities that lay behind closed doors, and, with the help of an unlimited credit card, simply turned a blind eye. That didn’t seem to be the case with Izzy. Now, guilt seeped into his thoughts, into his work...into his bones.
For a brief moment he’d witnessed the walls of her faux personality crumble down around her, exposing compassion, empathy...even an affectionate heart. Where he’d been anticipating his ex-wife’s reaction, needing it as a reminder to keep distance from associating in any way with this family, he’d hurt an innocent, caring woman instead and all for his own selfish needs.
He pushed away from the counter, grabbing his jacket from the chair. He scribbled a note for Anton, who was still holed up in the closed room, and left it by the old man’s briefcase.
If the events of the night had been a test of her humanity, Izzy would have passed. She dressed, acted, and sauced her tongue like a Caliendo princess, but her heart blossomed like a flower and he owed her an apology.
Abandoning his post, he first knocked on the door of Izzy’s suite, but the darkness beyond the windows indicated no one was home. He didn’t know Willow Valley, wasn’t even sure how to get there, but he planned to search every inch of it to find her. He checked into the resort’s nightlife first, which, thankfully, led him to a quiet bar at the edge of the beach with the cute little Caliendo blonde sitting at the bar.
The warm summer breeze gently guided him inside the open cabana. The metal chandeliers highlighted the tables alongside the beach, crowded with over-happy, tipsy tourists. Wood beams lined the ceiling and the smell of grilled food reminded him he was starving. A few couples sat on either side of Izzy, along the live-edge bar, but, lucky for him, a single seat remained empty.
With her backside facing him, her waves of hair spilled down the white material of her clothes like the water beyond them. As he approached, the sight of dust and dirt marks stained her cover-up.
She hadn’t changed her clothes. He’d bet his life her regular day didn’t include her stepping into public looking like Cindersoot.
Gunner reluctantly slipped onto the stool beside her.
She scowled at him. An ice-cold scowl, not that he expected any less. “What do you want?” Without waiting for his reply, she lifted her drink to her mouth, letting the glass linger against her lips. “I would ask how you found me, but being your here with Anton and sorting out coded files, I’m sure I don’t want to know.” She shot back a mouthful.
“There are only so many bars on the premises.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her slight side-to-side head movements, the curve of her cheek drawing in as if she were biting the inside of her mouth.
She lightly tapped the glass against her lower lip, her eyes fixed on the alcohol bottles lined behind the bar. But her eyes exposed how far into her own world she was. “I don’t need any more of your judgement.” Looking away, she swallowed another mouthful of the amber liquid and sucked in a deep breath.
“I’m not judging you.” Although, he had. She consumed the alcohol like a pro. She obviously wasn’t shy to the liquid promise of escape.
He could relate. Often at night, he’d sit on his porch, staring at the brush around him, quite the way she did now without really seeing what was in front of her, and letting the liquid assist in forgetting the looming problems.
She let out a low, humorous laugh, waving her hand in the air, motioning for a refill. She rolled her glazed-over eyes to him. “You judged me the second you saw me. Everyone does. Don’t feel bad. I don’t care. But tonight, I’m not in the mood to defend myself...” A serious look stole her laid-back features. “...or to play the part. I would just like to sit here. Alone.”
“At least let me buy you a meal to soak up some of the alcohol you’ve consumed.” Gunner waved at the bartender, blaming himself for her predicament. Whether she drank on a daily basis or not, this downslide was on him.
“Who says I’ve drank enough to need it soaked up? You?” She poked his arm, clearly defining her drunken status. “And your non-judgement?” She poked him again.
He grinned.
He wasn’t sure why or where it came from, and instantly wiped it away. Or so he thought.
“Is that funny to you?” she asked. “Is my misery entertaining you?”
“No. Let me buy you supper as an apology for today.”
“An apology for which part? Where you handcuffed me to a chair or introduced me to the room of torture?” Her question resounded so loudly, people from every direction looked over at them. Their assumptions undoubtedly heading down an entirely different direction than the actuality. He figured clarifying wouldn’t make their situation better and stayed quiet.
Izzy on the other hand, didn’t let their assumptions go unnoticed. “What?” She twisted around to face the couple behind her. “You only wish stud muffin there would handcuff you and take you into his torture room.” She doubled the embarrassment by pointing her fingers at the man to make her point.
Good lord.
Gunner mouthed them an apology before waving at the waiter again.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting us food.”
Her shoulders rose as if she were gearing up for another argument, but then the defeat and a sigh escaped her. “Fine.” Turning back to the bar, she shouted a name. Service appeared in a snap holding two shots.
Gunner threw his back, needing the liquid to calm his unsteady nerves. Being in crowded areas, people lurking in the dark, eyes he couldn’t make out and possible dangers, put him on edge.
You’re a country away. They think you’re dead and Tito is dead...you’re fine.
His reassuring internal pep talk alleviated his nerves as much as their walk to the beach. At Izzy’s persistence, she carried the food away from the food hut and to a couple of loungers alongside the shoreline.
Luminosity from the resort conveyed a soft glow around them. Their only source of light.
Izzy sat cross-legged on one end of the turquoise lounger and Gunner on the other end with a buffet of food containers between them. For a woman so quick to decline his food offer, she swiftly filled up her plate and dug in.
A tense blanket of silence fell upon them, soothed only by the lapping waves. Laughter from the tourists reverberated down the sandy path from the bar and grill.
Gunner ignored the oddly strange feeling of not being stuck in his cabin, alone, and surrounded by miles of brush. How normal he felt at this very moment. He feared revelling in what might never be, still reluctant to believe the freedom Anton offered. No one ever walked away from the mafia.
Letting himself indulge in the normalcy of a life he’d once lived only to go back to his birdcage...he knew he wouldn’t survive.
Izzy began closing the container lids, drawing his attention back to her. For being famished, he’d hardly eaten a bite.
She tucked the leftovers in a bag sitting on the sand beside the lounger. Sipping the end of the water she’d ordered, the time approached for him to enforce his apology. He owed her that much after today. He probably should apologize for her phone and pushing her in the pool, too, but the fact that both those incidents made him smile made him think that part of an apology wouldn’t seem sincere.
“I’m sorry about today.”
Arching her shapely eyebrows she sent him a mystified look. “When you handcuffed me to the chair? Or handcuffed me to you? How about when you called me a popsicle? Then insinuated that I like sex. Or were you insinuating I’m a tramp?”
Where to even begin?
“I’m not sorry I handcuffed you. You needed to be handcuffed. You lack discipline, and are short of knowledge. If your primed and pampered outfits or your lack of respect and responsibility is any indication, you’re spoiled to the point of not knowing the difference.”
Izzy’s mouth dropped open. “Is this part of your apology?”
He hadn’t even touched on the “tramp” comment, yet.
Muttering a curse at forgetting how to carry out a normal conversation, he answered, “No.” But it came out stern and he found himself inwardly cursing himself again.
Why the hell had he followed her out here?
She threw her feet over the side of the lounger, reaching for her sandals. “Let me save you the trouble. I don’t care what kind of guilt trip you’re on after showing me the torture room, but your apology means nothing to me. You mean nothing to me. So stop and let’s pretend none of it ever happened.”
“I shouldn’t have exposed the room to you in that manner.”
Izzy didn’t maintain her composure well. She stood abruptly, snatching their garbage in the process. “I don’t think you get it.” Flames of anger torched her eyes. “I don’t care. I. Don’t. Care. How else would you like me to spell this out? You punished me because I didn’t bow down to you like an obedient slave. Own it. That’s the man you are. Don’t try to be someone else because you think I might go tattle to Marc—”
Gunner stood. “You think this about Marc?”
“Or Anton?”
“You think I can’t live with the consequences of my actions?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re living with lots of consequences to your actions and they’ve turned you into a jerk.”
“I don’t need this shit,” he growled.
“Good.” She thrust the bag of food into his arms. “Take this with you when you leave. I’m going for a swim.” She waltzed past him.
A swim? At this late hour? And drunk?
Not your problem.
But against his better judgement, Gunner followed.
Sauntering under the moonlight, she pulled the cover-up over her head and tossed it behind her. Her suit left little to the imagination. Thin strings tied across her silky porcelain backside and at the sides of her bottoms. Curvaceous hips swayed with each step along the marble pathway, passing each pool and sign restricting night-time swimming.
Gunner scooped up the piece of white material while never taking his eyes off her.
Hot damn, she was sexy.
He followed her past a wooden sign engraved with a notification that the area was off limits after nine in the evening. Not surprisingly, she ignored it.
Beneath a rosewood arbour draped with vines and white flowers, they stepped into a concealed tropical paradise. Leaving behind the light of the resort, only an afterglow reached over a seven-foot tall fence highlighting an in-ground hot tub nestled in the center of the private space.
Izzy paid no attention to him, as if she’d thought he’d left. She manoeuvred into the shadows as soft music feathered around them and bubbles fizzed in the water.
Stopping at the stairs of the hot tub, she looked at him. “If you plan on joining me, that’s fine, but don’t stand there like a peeping Tom.”
Watching her step into the steaming pool of water, conflict pulled him two ways. One: he felt obligated to confirm her well-being. Two: this evening had gotten way out of control, drinking at a bar, eating at the beach, and now contemplating reasons not to leave which had nothing to do with his obligation.
Screw it.
He tossed her cover-up on the ground and pulled his shirt over his head. Living his life on the safe side for three long-damn-years and the constant watching over his shoulder had exhausted him. Her refreshing carefree attitude—even if he still thought she was crazy—might be the little crazy to help him overcome his fear of the real world.
He shoved his pants down his legs, stepping out of them and wearing nothing but his briefs. Stepping into the water, he watched her, watching him, her gaze sweeping over his body, landing on his eyes and not hiding her desire.
“Not bad,” she said.
“This isn’t an invitation to sex,” he clarified, not sure whether saying it out loud was to impede future flirting or to convince himself. “I’m making sure you don’t drown after the alcohol you’ve consumed.”
She playfully rolled her eyes. “That’s ironic after you pushed me in the pool less than twenty-four hours ago. Maybe I should be apprehensive of your presence, in case you try to drown me again.”
“There would be no trying.”
She waved a hand at him. “See, sentences like that give off a dangerous vibe.”
“I bet you like dangerous.” His body stilled the moment the tease left his lips.
What was he doing? Flirting? It had been so long, he found himself surprised he knew how. But, more importantly, why was he flirting with her? Did he subconsciously expect more? Consciously, he sensed the spark between them, the lust and desire that the circumstances around them had made almost impossible to see. But he’d seen it. She’d seen it. He was human after all. And now he had initiated with a tease. An invitation to exactly what he’d denied climbing in.
She rewarded him with a large smile. “Tell me about your dangerous side.”
End it. She’s a Caliendo. Halt this flirtation session ASAP before you do something you will regret.
But would he regret it? It wasn’t as though he planned on falling in love with her. Hell no! But sex...sex he could do. Sex he liked and, right now, she seemed on the same page.
“If I told you, my image wouldn’t be as appealing.”
She laughed, throwing her head back. “Oh dolcissima, do you think you’re going to get lucky tonight?”
It was his turn to laugh. Partially at her ignorance of the Italian word and the rest at her terrible impersonation of his tone and accent. His genuine bellow rumbled up his chest. He’d forgotten what his laugh sounded like, what it felt like to laugh, really laugh. It felt like minutes, but undoubtedly only seconds had passed before he settled down.
Her quirky face awaited him, looking none too impressed. “What does it mean?”
“Sweet.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Sweet? You called me sweet, and you and Anton found humor in that?”
“Popsicle, you look anything but sweet.”
Her expression dropped. “Spoiled, right? Primed and pampered.”
That twist wouldn’t head in the right direction, but he couldn’t deny the facts. He wouldn’t lie to her to sleep with her. “If the shoe fits.”
“It fits. It fits perfectly. And, you know what? I’m not ashamed that I was born into a family that has money. Or that I don’t have to work. And I’m definitely not ashamed that I have no interest in the files you seem to think I should. You might be from the lifestyle of Robert’s secret side, but I’m not. So, no, they don’t interest me. I’m not curious about them and I say burn them before reading any more.”
He didn’t completely disagree with her. Some should be burned while others should be locked in a safe...or a hidden basement.
“I’m also not ashamed of my sex drive, either. And you don’t seem like the kind of guy to deny a woman interested in a one-time thing. That’s what I’m offering. One night. Tonight. Here and now.” She paused, licking her luscious and tantalizing lips. The small action almost had him lunging across the water. “So, you can either stay and show me how that rough, dangerous side of yours plays out, or...” She nodded to the exit. “You can leave. Your choice.”
The decision wasn’t hard. There was no damn way he was walking away from what she offered. He was a man, after all, and apparently a stupid one not listening to the warning stream of common sense. His head knew better, but his body couldn’t wait to take her.
“I’m comfy just where I am.” His eyes darkened with lust. “It will only get better once you’ve made your way over here.”