Page 63 of Lord of Ruin
As Dena opened the bottle of their famous Chianti, which just happened to be from our vineyards, Michelangelo stood in the shadows with his arms crossed around his big belly and his expression one of joy and approval. He’d almost been like a second father to me, my own Pops bringing his five children here so many years ago I couldn’t remember the date.
After the wine was poured, the man approached, his smile bigger than I’d seen in a long time. “My friend, Stavros. You bring a beautiful woman into my restaurant for the first time. That means she is very special.” When he took her hand into his, she seemed surprised. He was forever the romantic himself, even singing to his wife almost every time I was here, often to the guests as well.
“You know Stavros?” Jenna asked, blushing when he kissed her hand.
“I know his entire family. They are wonderful people, excellent customers. You will make an incredible addition to their world and have beautiful children together.”
She blushed as if on cue. “No, we’re not together. I mean, not in that way. I mean…” She laughed nervously.
He wagged his finger at her. “As they say in my home country. Quando trovi la donna perfetta, non la lasci mai andare.”
“And that means?” she asked, her heated gaze shifting to my face.
“When you find a perfect woman, you never let her go.” As soon as he translated the words, she laughed, placing her hand across her lips.
“I’m hardly perfect. Just a girl with a love of animals.”
Michelangelo beamed. “Now, you are a woman after my own heart. Stavros’ as well. If you will indulge me, I would enjoy making you a very special pizza.”
“I would love that,” she breathed.
He winked at me before walking away in his usual happy way of doing so. I shook my head as I reached for my wine. “He is a good friend.”
“Someone you care about,” she retorted and wrapped her long fingers around the glass.
“Yes, I could call him that. My family has been coming here since I was a little boy. It’s where I fell in love with pizza for the first time.” I lifted my glass, waiting to make a small toast.
“I usually was lucky enough to grab a slice or two at a little corner joint in New York. I loved it but the atmosphere was nothing like this. Do you come here often?”
We clinked glasses and I realized how relaxed I felt. “Not recently, but you’d be surprised. Elena used to tease me that I was made of their pizza sauce, which is homemade, of course, using only the finest ingredients.”
“Are you going to feed your men?”
“Interesting. You care about them. The answer is yes because Dena will ensure they have everything they need. I think she’s sweet on Christos.”
“Well, he is a very handsome man.”
I leaned over the table, issuing a dangerous sound. “You touch him or if he dares look at you with desire in his eyes, he will be blinded. I don’t give a shit if he’s my cousin.”
“A jealous man. That’s beneath you.”
“Never.”
I was rewarded with a laugh.
“What else about you will surprise me?”
I eased my hand under the table, slowly crawling my fingers under her silky dress along the top of her thigh.
She sucked in her breath, lifting her eyebrows. “Why, you are always a very bad man, aren’t you?”
“I do tend to gravitate toward the wicked side and always have.”
Her lower lip quivered yet she spread her legs, allowing me to brush my fingers carefully along the tender skin of the inside of her thigh. Even from where I sat, the tablecloth hiding my salacious actions was little deterrent to my needs.
As she brought the wineglass to her lips, her eyes were suddenly hooded and her teasing continued. She licked around the rim of the glass, her chest rising and falling. Her nipples were hard as perfect pebbles, making my mouth water all over again.
“Tell me more,” she whispered. “How wicked are you?”