For a few seconds, Jonathan lost his power of speech. “He pulled a gun on you? Da…hmm” He swallowed a curse and cleared his throat. “You must have been terrified.” His eyebrows arching, he peered at her.
Nope, not a single trace of worry marred her pretty face. He was the one who felt his gut twisting with fear at the thought that some thug had threatened her with a deadly weapon.
“I managed to trip him and ran away.”
Jonathan squinted, not only because the bright sunlight interfered with his contemplation of her beautiful chocolate-brown eyes, but also because he had trouble swallowing her story. “Are you sure it was a gun? Maybe the guy was carrying an umbrella and its pole hit you?”
Bubbly laughter answered his assumption. “I can tell a gun from an umbrella. In fact, I’ve held enough guns to be capable of differentiating between a Colt and a Glock.”
“Oh.” He wouldn’t swear he knew the exact difference between the two brands of pistols.
She patted his hand. “Relax. He’s the one who got hurt. The kick I gave his ankle made him scream. I followed with a good punch to his eye while his hands were tangled in my wrap.”
“Your wrap? How?”
“Well, I had to distract him. So I managed to wriggle out of my pareo. It dropped on his hands but he was too busy ogling me to notice.” With a proud smirk, the lovely victim casually recited her tale.
“Oh I see.” The scene she described resembled a funny video. He burst out laughing. The poor bastard hadn’t stood a chance if he’d focused on Isabella’s superb assets at the wrong time. Jonathan detected a blush under her arched eyebrows as she rearranged the towel over her chest. Embarrassed to be caught ogling her, he quickly lifted his gaze.
“It’s not a laughing matter,” Mrs. Cantari scolded and glared at him. “Isabella was attacked by an armed aggressor. I want Dante to find out what’s going on.”
Jonathan immediately sobered. “I’m sorry Ma’am. I understand your concern. I will ask Dante to put me in charge of this case. He has so much on his mind right now, with his heavy workload and his wife’s difficult pregnancy.”
“I’m not frightened,” Isabella protested.
That much was obvious. In fact, he was more concerned about her safety than she seemed to be. “Still you were assaulted in broad day light.” He rubbed his temple, trying to emerge from his Isabella-induced trance.
Unfortunately, her shrug slid the towel off her shoulders. If she didn’t keep the damn towel in place he’d have as much trouble concentrating as the garage roughneck. Jonathan averted his eyes, glanced at the old lady who had a scowl etched on her forehead, and cleared his throat. “I’ll try to find out who attacked you and who was behind it.”
Another shrug revealed her alabaster globes. In spite of his conscientious effort to keep his eyes fixed on her face, he couldn’t prevent a swift glance lower. Good thing, Dante hadn’t accompanied him. Flirting with the boss’s little sister ranked high on the list of no-nos in Dante’s book as he’d quite clearly insinuated after seeing Jonathan dancing too closely with Isabella at his wedding.
“We have a pretty good idea of who’s behind today’s episode,” Isabella said with a steady voice. “You see I grew up surrounded with vendetta talk. My grandfather taught us defense techniques at an early age. He put me in karate class at seven, taught me to shoot at ten. I trained for and won a marathon because this would help me escape if I had to run away as I did today.”
“No kidding. Huh, I mean…” Jonathan arched his eyebrows. Stunned disbelief clouded his mind. In addition, Isabella forgot to readjust the teasing towel and his mind had difficulty focusing. “Have you been in danger all your life?”
“Well, the Raveno family were on and off at war with our family for several generations. Every death was blamed on the enemy.”
Nonna nodded. “Their grandfather killed your mamma and papa in a car explosion.”
“Absolutely wrong,” Isabella uttered. “It was a horrible accident due to the carburetor malfunction. We’ve all read the police report. Please let’s not bother Jonathan with the ugly past.”
“If your past is related to today’s incident, I’d better take notes.” He retrieved his iPhone from his pocket, and dutifully kept his eyes glued to the screen while typing. “Tell me more, please.”
The old lady hissed. “Your grandfather was convinced of foul play. He made sure the old Raveno paid with his life.”
“He killed him?” In spite of his best effort to remain impassive and professional, Jonathan’s head snapped up. His eyes widened and the muscle at the base of his throat tingled. The sweet Isabella he’d been dreaming of dating was the granddaughter of a killer?
“Of course not, but my husband and his foe argued so much Old Raveno had a sudden heart attack,” Mrs. Cantari explained with a clipped voice.
“That caused a momentary friction between the Raveno boys and my brothers. They were in school together,” Isabella hastened to add.
“And they got their revenge on Rafael,” Mrs. Cantari muttered.
“Nonna, enough please. They all reconciled years before the terrible day. We’ll never know what caused the gunshot that took my brother Rafael’s life. The police said he was playing with a loaded gun. It was an accident. The Raveno brothers were not responsible.” Isabella lowered her head. A deep scowl wrinkled her pretty forehead.
“Isabella, girl, how could you doubt those bastards killed your big brother?”
Jonathan flicked glances from the young woman to her irascible grandmother and immediately schooled his expression. No need to add to Isabella’s ordeal by showing her he didn’t exactly fancy himself dating a Mafia princess.
“Great, we’ll never finish if you insist on hanging our dirty laundry in public. Nonno held Lorenzo Raveno responsible. The corrupt judge on the case was my grandfather’s buddy. He had Lorenzo thrown in jail for twenty-five years. Now his brother Marco is trying to abduct me in revenge.”
“God forbid, bambina. I’ll kill them with my own hands if they come near you again. I haven’t forgiven them for causing your Nonno’s heart attack.”
“Come on, Nonna, the Raveno brothers didn’t cause Grandpa’s heart attack. His health had weakened from all the stress and his heart failed. There was no crime. I wonder if there has ever been any crime, except those in the imagination and twisted minds of old Raveno and my grandfather. And we were left to cope with the heartache and suffering.” Her eyes sparkled with tears that melted Jonathan’s heart.
“Isabella Cantari, I forbid you to talk like that. Forget the nonsense. Too many people died because of the vendetta between the Cantaris and the Ravenos. Oh my heart.” The old woman sniffled as if she had trouble breathing.
“Are you in pain?” Isabella threw off her towel and bent over her grandmother.
“I’ll call an ambulance.” Jonathan punched a preprogrammed number on his phone.
“No need,” Mrs. Cantari covered his hand, interrupting the phone call. “It’s the emotion. God help us if the Raveno brothers have caught up with us. We will have more bloodshed. To think I expatriate myself to avoid this feud. And now it has followed us all the way to America. I am going to call their mamma and talk with her. She, too, is afraid for her sons. Dante won’t hesitate to kill them if they hurt you, or touch one hair on his precious wife’s head.”
“Don’t worry. I know how to take care of myself. I already did,” Isabella added with a proud smile. “And Dante is keeping Alexa under close watch.”
Having vented their resentment, the two women seemed to slowly calm down.
Diverting from their vendetta imbroglio, Jonathan realized that Isabella had the most perfect figure he’d ever admired in his life. And a pair of toned and tanned legs that matched the rest.
“I’ll report to Dante, and we’ll decide what to do next. But please, ask a security guard to accompany you while crossing the garage from now on.” As for him he’d run before succumbing to the temptation of inviting her out.
“Good idea,” Mrs. Cantari said.
“Nonna, I’m walking Jonathan to the visitors’ parking.” Isabella swayed her way to the end of the terrace and the gate separating the beach from the parking lot. She unlocked the door with her key and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
Crossing her arms under her breasts, she squinted at him. “Jonathan Ramirez, you’re a liar.”
“Huh?”
“You claimed you were concerned about me but you didn’t even bother calling me after my brother’s wedding as you’d promised. So save yourself the trouble of acting worried.”
Of all the low blows, he hadn’t seen this one coming and lost his power of speech for a second. “I planned to call you. Really. But your brother mentioned that he didn’t condone, hmm…, consorting with clients.” Jonathan remembered Dante’s clipped tone when he warned him off dating Isabella. He’d made it clear their family wanted Isabella married soon.
A lump the size of a rock lodged in Jonathan’s throat. Everyone at the office knew that his amorous relationships never lasted more than two months, since the day Eva had broken their engagement a month before the wedding. He couldn’t indulge in a fling that might hurt Isabella and cost him his job.
His companion tapped her finger on his chest. “First I wasn’t your client, even if Dante asked you to make sure our house was protected twenty-four-seven when a killer was on the loose last year. And second, if you’re the type who follows your boss’s orders blindly, then I misjudged you,” she added with a haughty tilt of her chin.
He grabbed her hand and peered into her eyes. “I’m not the right man for you. I like some fun here or there. That’s all.”
“You mean I’m boring?”
“Of course not. Stop this game.”
“For someone who claims to like fun, you’re way too serious.” Her lips curled into a sarcastic pout that teased and tempted. As if her bikini hadn’t done a good job of that.
He stared at her eyes and caught a gleam of passion that took his breath away. “Isabella, you’re a sweet girl. Don’t play with fire.” He released her fingers and shoved his hands into his pants’ pockets to avoid wrapping his arms around her and kissing her saucy words out of her mouth.
“You can go in peace, Jonathan. I’m not interested in playing anymore. Not with you.” Her smile fell. She turned, giving him her back.
Rooted in place he admired her tanned shoulders, slim waist and undulating butt, and swallowed. “Isabella.” His hands flew to her shoulders and spun her to face him. She gave him a radiant smile and threaded her fingers behind his neck. His heart somersaulted, and he brought her hard against him, caressing the long chestnut tresses cascading down her back. The vanilla scent of her lotion fogged his mind. Holding onto the remaining shred of his willpower he tried to ease away.
Taking the decision away from him, she pressed her lips on his, rubbing and torturing mercilessly. He was lost and delighted in her victory. Pushing into her open welcoming mouth, he touched her tongue with his, stroked and played. Warm breath sighed into his mouth.
But he couldn’t kiss her here on the building sidewalk—not the way he wanted, with a deep, thorough and long kiss that would take them both to heaven, or more probably through a sweet hell.
He eased away and held her at arm’s length. “I’ll call you in the evening.”
A warning gaze caught his eyes and she cupped his cheek. “I’ll be waiting for your call. Don’t forget me, Jonathan Ramirez.”
As if he could. Isabella’s intoxicating fragrance and delicious lips had woven a tight web around his heart, body, and senses…