Page 4 of Ciao, Amore

What came out when he was ready to speak was woefully underwhelming but at least polite.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the other side of the booth.

She slid in with her hands on the edge of the table between them. Her arms were long, with elegant hands and fingers. Like her body, her arms looked soft, supple. Nico gathered himself a little tighter, tried withdrawing to avoid the heat flowing from her, but there was only so far he could go in the intimate confines of their booth. The scent of lavender grew stronger.

“Would you like some water? Or something else to drink?” he asked, pulling his shirt away from his chest.

He was flustered and hot as her gaze moved from his eyes to his nose to his mouth, then to somewhere near his left ear as if avoiding too much direct eye contact. Okay, so he wasn’t the only nervous one. The goddess might’ve been human after all.

That helped ease the spinning wind-up bird in his chest. He signaled to the waitress, and the blond girl came over without hesitation.

“What can I get you guys?” she asked, looking between them with a smile.

“Well…coffee?” Daniela said with a raised eyebrow and her palms turning up in question.

“Sure. Right. Coffee. And water, too, please. Thanks.”

Great, now he sounded like a moron on top of staring at her like one. The waitress slowly took their menus and tucked them into the space between the napkin dispenser and the wall.

“In case you want to order something else,” she said, indicating the menus before taking off to retrieve their drinks.

Nico didn’t speak until the waitress returned and poured their coffee, and neither did Daniela. He studied her features. Her nose was straight, nicely shaped. Those lips…Dammit, don’t stare. Her bottom lip looked full and tasty. Her dark-brown hair had a wave to it, rippled into a braid that reached the center of her back.

Once the saucer full of creamer was placed on the table and the waitress had left again, Nico cleared his throat.

“Alright, let me start off by introducing myself properly. I’m Nicodemo Donahue, but everybody calls me Nico. Next, I want to apologize.”

“What for?” she asked.

Nico paused again to find the right words. He blew out a breath. “It looks like we’ve both been had.”

“Say what?” Dani asked, tilting her ear in his direction and raising one deliciously arched eyebrow. “Had how, by whom?” She dragged out them, apparently unsure if “who” or “whom”

was correct.

Nico grinned. That one moment of uncertainty from her, despite her poise, made her even more human. The tension that knotted in his belly eased a bit.

“Fuck, I don’t know if it’s who or whom either. Okay. Every September, I go to Naples with my family for the Festival of San Gennaro. It’s our family reunion, basically. My grandparents live up north, in Parma, and they come down for the festival. We do the activities, we party. At least the younger generations party, while the elders talk about politics and business and whatever older people talk about.”

A flush of guilt swept through him that he couldn’t share the whole truth with her about what the family business was. They made it a rule not to say anything to outsiders until they got to know them better and could be sure they were trustworthy. Omission felt like dishonesty. It sucked, but this rule was too ingrained to be ignored.

“Well, yeah, your profile did say you needed a date for the festival, and that there’d be church and activities.”

He leaned forward, pushed the creamers toward Daniela, and waited while she took what she needed. She chose half the creamers and three sugar packets. Apparently, she liked her coffee light and sweet, and another short burst of lust flared in him, wondering if that’s how she liked her men.

Keep your dick in your pants. It’s just coffee.

But she had chosen to respond to Tino’s invitation, masquerading as him. She’d chosen to come here to meet him. He wanted to know why. If it was desire to get to know him in that velvet gaze or simply interest in a trip to his ancient motherland. But he couldn’t sit there and let her keep believing he was behind this.

Nico grimaced. “My youngest brother, Santino, created a dating profile on my behalf, without my knowledge or permission, to find someone who’d go with me to the festival. He told me to meet him here, and then right before you showed up, he called me again to tell me what was going on. I am so sorry. I know it sounds pretty fucking unbelievable, but that’s what happened.”

Instead of looking embarrassed at the trickery or outraged, her eyes flew open, and she clapped once, shaking her head with a laugh. “I knew it. I fuckingknewit.”

“Knew what?” he asked with amusement. He was relieved she’d seemed to take the news well. And man, was it gratifying to earn her smile.

“There were a bunch of pictures with the profile. One with you and what I assume are your brothers, but there were a couple of you by yourself. You had this…I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something about your picture didn’t match up with the things he wrote. Not like I think I know you,” Daniela said quickly.

“Christ, I’m afraid to ask what he wrote,” Nico swore.

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