continued to glare daggers, Mike announced, “Their dinner’s on me, Gi,” which instantly won them over.
“ I’ll tell Kyle,” she said. “That’s his table.”
As if summoned by her mention, Kyle strode past her then, a round tray filled with dirty dishes and half-empty plastic soda tumblers hoisted over his shoulder.
Before she could mention the Tullos’ check, however, Angelo chimed in. “So, who’s it gonna be, sweetheart? Which of the ROMEOs gets to take you out on the town?”
“ Actually,” she said again, “Kyle has agreed to take me.”
“ Kyle?” Mike’s voice boomed off the walls, and several diners turned to stare. “Who’s Kyle?”
“ I am.” When Kyle spoke, his breath brushed her ear.
How had he slipped up behind her so quietly? While the old men had distracted her, Kyle had somehow managed to drop off his tray and pop up inches from her side.
Curtis slid his thick bifocals down his nose and peered over them. “You? Who are you?”
At the same time, Sol asked, “Can you dance?”
“ Yes, I can dance.”
Sol harrumphed. “Prove it. Take Gi here for a whirl.”
The room spun. As if she held a life preserver, she gripped her order pad and clung. “Now?” she croaked through a tight throat. “Here?”
“ Yes, here and yes, now,” Sol insisted.
A flurry of applause erupted, from the ROMEOs, the other patrons, even a grinning Sal, who leaned in the doorway near the kitchen. When she flashed him a look meant to send him scurrying, he did just that. Seconds later, the sounds of Tony Bennett singing, “The Very Thought of You” filled the room.
Arms open, Kyle waited. No panic reflected on his features. What drugs had he taken, and where could she get some? The idea of slow dancing in the middle of this dining room made her feet leaden. Muscles constricted. Taking a step required more effort than a team of workhorses could muster.
He must have sensed her immobility because he came near and folded her into his embrace. One hand clasped hers, secure but not suffocating. When he bowed forward, she automatically tipped back. The music took control, or Kyle did. Either way, she no longer directed her movements. Some invisible puppeteer pulled her strings, making each step, each glide across the floor, like dancing on a cloud. Heaven. Kyle led her with effortless grace.
Beneath the colorful glow of the stained glass lamps, his eyes took on a rainbow of hues, warm and comforting, hot and intoxicating. Impossible to tear her gaze away. Only the music mattered, the music and the man. Tony’s voice crooned words echoed in her heart. The first song ended, and after a brief pause, Tony broke into the slightly up-tempo, “Rags to Riches.”
Without missing a beat, Kyle swept her around the room, never brushing against a chair, a knee, or a tablecloth. Boneless, Gianna depended on him for everything but the air she breathed.
The next song, “Steppin’ Out” sped their pace, but Kyle never faltered. While two and a half blissful minutes elapsed, the restaurant faded, the customers and staff disappeared. When the third song ended, Kyle slowed, and then stopped. Dropping his arms to his sides, he offered her a slight bow and returned to the Tullos’ table without a word. The moment he turned, Gianna left her celestial playground, crashing to earth on the applause of the entire population of Villa Mare .
“ I’d say that’s a big yes to the dancing question.” Mike’s awed tone filtered through her cloudy brain.
Quick, she told herself. Do something. “Umm,” she managed, “I’ll get your salad.”
Somehow, she managed to walk sedately to the kitchen where she headed straight for the Sub-Zero. Swinging the door of the giant freezer wide, she ducked her head inside to inhale frigid air and cool the fire crackling over her skin.
Chapter Eight
As he’d done for endless days and nights since his arrival at Villa Mare , Kyle
“ I’ll tell Kyle,” she said. “That’s his table.”
As if summoned by her mention, Kyle strode past her then, a round tray filled with dirty dishes and half-empty plastic soda tumblers hoisted over his shoulder.
Before she could mention the Tullos’ check, however, Angelo chimed in. “So, who’s it gonna be, sweetheart? Which of the ROMEOs gets to take you out on the town?”
“ Actually,” she said again, “Kyle has agreed to take me.”
“ Kyle?” Mike’s voice boomed off the walls, and several diners turned to stare. “Who’s Kyle?”
“ I am.” When Kyle spoke, his breath brushed her ear.
How had he slipped up behind her so quietly? While the old men had distracted her, Kyle had somehow managed to drop off his tray and pop up inches from her side.
Curtis slid his thick bifocals down his nose and peered over them. “You? Who are you?”
At the same time, Sol asked, “Can you dance?”
“ Yes, I can dance.”
Sol harrumphed. “Prove it. Take Gi here for a whirl.”
The room spun. As if she held a life preserver, she gripped her order pad and clung. “Now?” she croaked through a tight throat. “Here?”
“ Yes, here and yes, now,” Sol insisted.
A flurry of applause erupted, from the ROMEOs, the other patrons, even a grinning Sal, who leaned in the doorway near the kitchen. When she flashed him a look meant to send him scurrying, he did just that. Seconds later, the sounds of Tony Bennett singing, “The Very Thought of You” filled the room.
Arms open, Kyle waited. No panic reflected on his features. What drugs had he taken, and where could she get some? The idea of slow dancing in the middle of this dining room made her feet leaden. Muscles constricted. Taking a step required more effort than a team of workhorses could muster.
He must have sensed her immobility because he came near and folded her into his embrace. One hand clasped hers, secure but not suffocating. When he bowed forward, she automatically tipped back. The music took control, or Kyle did. Either way, she no longer directed her movements. Some invisible puppeteer pulled her strings, making each step, each glide across the floor, like dancing on a cloud. Heaven. Kyle led her with effortless grace.
Beneath the colorful glow of the stained glass lamps, his eyes took on a rainbow of hues, warm and comforting, hot and intoxicating. Impossible to tear her gaze away. Only the music mattered, the music and the man. Tony’s voice crooned words echoed in her heart. The first song ended, and after a brief pause, Tony broke into the slightly up-tempo, “Rags to Riches.”
Without missing a beat, Kyle swept her around the room, never brushing against a chair, a knee, or a tablecloth. Boneless, Gianna depended on him for everything but the air she breathed.
The next song, “Steppin’ Out” sped their pace, but Kyle never faltered. While two and a half blissful minutes elapsed, the restaurant faded, the customers and staff disappeared. When the third song ended, Kyle slowed, and then stopped. Dropping his arms to his sides, he offered her a slight bow and returned to the Tullos’ table without a word. The moment he turned, Gianna left her celestial playground, crashing to earth on the applause of the entire population of Villa Mare .
“ I’d say that’s a big yes to the dancing question.” Mike’s awed tone filtered through her cloudy brain.
Quick, she told herself. Do something. “Umm,” she managed, “I’ll get your salad.”
Somehow, she managed to walk sedately to the kitchen where she headed straight for the Sub-Zero. Swinging the door of the giant freezer wide, she ducked her head inside to inhale frigid air and cool the fire crackling over her skin.
Chapter Eight
As he’d done for endless days and nights since his arrival at Villa Mare , Kyle
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