this.”
“Michael, I said, it is done.” The anger and determination in her face gave him pause.
Darin studied the ring, looking for the gold stamp inside the band. He held it up to the light. “Okay, you have a deal. But you only get one hour.”
“I would like a receipt, please.”
He glanced at Gina with amusement. “You’ll get your ring back, lady. All I want is the 120 bucks.”
“And I am supposed to believe you?”
In spite of everything, Mike chuckled at the look on Darin’s face. “She’s got you there, pal.”
“Don’t push it,” Darin warned, and motioned to the bartender.
The young man gave him a piece of paper, and Mike watched Gina watch Darin write out the receipt. She constantly surprised him. The ease with which she had just taken charge blew his mind. No way she’d be happy being a housewife. As worthwhile a position as it was, Gina wasn’t cut out for the job. Nor would she be content being some man’s trophy. She was an innocent when it came to sex, but not about life in general.
It occurred to him this was the second time she’d jumped in and helped out. Man, his ego was taking a beating.
“Here.” Darin passed her the piece of paper. “One hour.”
She took her time studying his messy scrawl. Finally she nodded and grasped Mike’s arm. They walked out and he immediately hailed a cab. They didn’t have time to waste. If traffic was bad, an hour might cut it close.
Gina slid in, stopping halfway across the seat. When Mike got in, she didn’t budge even though their thighs pressed against each other. She didn’t seem to notice. Her distracted gaze wandered out the window, but he noticed her hand shook slightly.
“Hey.” He sandwiched it between his palms. “We’ll get your ring back. I promise.”
“I know. But he made me so mad.” She let out a sound of exasperation and then lapsed into Italian, not even stopping to take a breath.
The cabdriver’s head came up and he stared at her in the rearview mirror. Great. All they needed was for the guy to think she was a nutcase and kick them out of his cab.
“Calm down.” He squeezed her hand, but she kept rattling off. “Come on, Gina.”
The driver pulled over to the curb.
Mike cursed under his breath. They were going to get thrown out. “What are you doing? We’re in a hurry.”
The man ignored him. He turned around in the seat and directed his dark gaze at Gina. And then he said something in Italian.
She answered, her voice rising, her hands waving excitedly.
Mike squinted at the man’s license posted near the meter. Luigi Caliguri. Great. Just great. “Gina, we’re in a hurry, remember?”
Luigi gave him a curious glance, then went back to talking with Gina. In Italian. And so fast Mike couldn’t understand a word of it. All he knew was that Luigi looked pretty steamed. At whom, Mike had no idea.
When the guy jammed the cab into drive and made a perilous U-turn and headed back toward the club, Mike had a clue.
L UIGI HADN’T LOOKED so big sitting in the cab. But nose to nose with Darin, his size was damn impressive. He had two scars on his chin and jaw, battle scars, no doubt, and his untamed black hair made him look like someone Mike would avoid in a dark alley. Hell, any alley. He’d never been in a fight. Had no desire to be in one.
“Gentlemen,” he began, “I’m sure there is no need for any bodily contact.”
They both ignored him.
So did most of the customers who’d wandered into the club. Two couples barely spared them a glance as they headed directly upstairs. A group milled around the buffet table. The bearded guy sitting alone at the bar seemed to be the only interested spectator.
“Gentlemen, please…” Mike started again.
Gina tried to pull him out of harm’s way. “I did not mean for this to happen. I was only talking. I did not know Luigi would do this. I am so sorry, Michael.”
“You taka this poor girl’s ring,” Luigi growled. “What kinda pussy boy are
“Michael, I said, it is done.” The anger and determination in her face gave him pause.
Darin studied the ring, looking for the gold stamp inside the band. He held it up to the light. “Okay, you have a deal. But you only get one hour.”
“I would like a receipt, please.”
He glanced at Gina with amusement. “You’ll get your ring back, lady. All I want is the 120 bucks.”
“And I am supposed to believe you?”
In spite of everything, Mike chuckled at the look on Darin’s face. “She’s got you there, pal.”
“Don’t push it,” Darin warned, and motioned to the bartender.
The young man gave him a piece of paper, and Mike watched Gina watch Darin write out the receipt. She constantly surprised him. The ease with which she had just taken charge blew his mind. No way she’d be happy being a housewife. As worthwhile a position as it was, Gina wasn’t cut out for the job. Nor would she be content being some man’s trophy. She was an innocent when it came to sex, but not about life in general.
It occurred to him this was the second time she’d jumped in and helped out. Man, his ego was taking a beating.
“Here.” Darin passed her the piece of paper. “One hour.”
She took her time studying his messy scrawl. Finally she nodded and grasped Mike’s arm. They walked out and he immediately hailed a cab. They didn’t have time to waste. If traffic was bad, an hour might cut it close.
Gina slid in, stopping halfway across the seat. When Mike got in, she didn’t budge even though their thighs pressed against each other. She didn’t seem to notice. Her distracted gaze wandered out the window, but he noticed her hand shook slightly.
“Hey.” He sandwiched it between his palms. “We’ll get your ring back. I promise.”
“I know. But he made me so mad.” She let out a sound of exasperation and then lapsed into Italian, not even stopping to take a breath.
The cabdriver’s head came up and he stared at her in the rearview mirror. Great. All they needed was for the guy to think she was a nutcase and kick them out of his cab.
“Calm down.” He squeezed her hand, but she kept rattling off. “Come on, Gina.”
The driver pulled over to the curb.
Mike cursed under his breath. They were going to get thrown out. “What are you doing? We’re in a hurry.”
The man ignored him. He turned around in the seat and directed his dark gaze at Gina. And then he said something in Italian.
She answered, her voice rising, her hands waving excitedly.
Mike squinted at the man’s license posted near the meter. Luigi Caliguri. Great. Just great. “Gina, we’re in a hurry, remember?”
Luigi gave him a curious glance, then went back to talking with Gina. In Italian. And so fast Mike couldn’t understand a word of it. All he knew was that Luigi looked pretty steamed. At whom, Mike had no idea.
When the guy jammed the cab into drive and made a perilous U-turn and headed back toward the club, Mike had a clue.
L UIGI HADN’T LOOKED so big sitting in the cab. But nose to nose with Darin, his size was damn impressive. He had two scars on his chin and jaw, battle scars, no doubt, and his untamed black hair made him look like someone Mike would avoid in a dark alley. Hell, any alley. He’d never been in a fight. Had no desire to be in one.
“Gentlemen,” he began, “I’m sure there is no need for any bodily contact.”
They both ignored him.
So did most of the customers who’d wandered into the club. Two couples barely spared them a glance as they headed directly upstairs. A group milled around the buffet table. The bearded guy sitting alone at the bar seemed to be the only interested spectator.
“Gentlemen, please…” Mike started again.
Gina tried to pull him out of harm’s way. “I did not mean for this to happen. I was only talking. I did not know Luigi would do this. I am so sorry, Michael.”
“You taka this poor girl’s ring,” Luigi growled. “What kinda pussy boy are
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