his snack, and had just set his empty plate on the tray of a passing waiter, when movement at the top of the staircase caught his attention. He looked up and sucked in a breath. Not red and feathered. She wore a strapless, clinging, emerald-green dress that ended just above her knee and made him think of mermaids.
Green means go
.
Watching her descend the Angel’s Rest staircase, her hips swaying with each step downward, he mentally stripped away the top half of the dress. The kind of probing he wanted to do had nothing to do with learning her secrets.
He met her at the bottom of the stairs. “Good evening,
Sirena Bellissima
.”
“Sirena?”
She arched a patrician brow. “Should I confess that I understand Italian?”
Delighted, he asked, “Are you offended that I called you ‘beautiful mermaid’?”
“I think I shouldn’t have chosen stockings that shimmer.”
“Stockings? Not pantyhose?”
She arched her brow again, this time flirtatiously. “Are you really asking me about my underwear, Mr. Cicero?”
He gave her a slow once-over. “Just trying to fill in the blanks for my fantasies, Dr. Anderson.”
“I think you think about legs too much. I understand that’s your nickname for Gabi. What does Flynn think about that?”
He shrugged and slipped his arm through hers. “She’s tall. I’m not going to call her
Stumpy
. Besides, I only use the single word. No adjective to go with it. Certainly not
beautiful
. I could just as easily call her Bird Legs or Spaghetti Legs or Green Giant. Any of those suits her.”
“Liar. She’s tall and athletic and has great legs from playing basketball.”
He touched her hair, wrapped a silken curl around his index finger. “Why are we talking about her, anyway? You are tall and delicious and have spectacular legs. It’s so easy to imagine them wrapped around me—in shimmering stockings or bare-legged skin. So, what can I get you to drink?”
She stammered a moment before saying. “Wine. Red, please.”
“Sure you don’t want something green tonight? A margarita, perhaps?”
“I don’t think they’re serving margaritas tonight.”
“Pity. Green is my new favorite color.” He slid his finger down her cheek, then along the neckline of her dress. “Green means
go
, you know. It means
yes
.”
She visibly shivered. Satisfied that he’d piqued her interest,Cicero sauntered off into the parlor toward the bar station standing in one corner. When he returned holding two glasses of cabernet, Rose stood safely beside her sister in a group of five. Cicero joined them and handed her a glass.
Nic Callahan was talking about a stray dog that Sheriff Zach Turner had picked up at a campground outside of town and left at her animal clinic, which doubled as Eternity Springs’s shelter. “He’s just a doll, a lab mix who is just as friendly as can be. He’s obviously been on his own for a while, but I’m sure he was someone’s pet at some point in his life.”
“You should adopt him, Cicero,” Gabi suggested. “You need a dog.”
“To quote my late sister’s standard reply to that suggestion, I need a dog like I need a hole in the head.”
“The kids would love it,” Gabi said. “Misty especially. Keenan wants an iguana. That’s all he talked about during their last visit.”
“Not true. The kid talked about everything under the sun when they were in town. He never shut up.”
“He’s seven,” Rose said. “That’s what seven-year-olds are supposed to do.”
“He wears me out. He only wants an iguana because his mother had a picture of the two of us with an iguana in a California bar.”
“So get him a dog,” Gabi said. “If he had a dog to play with, he wouldn’t bother you so much.”
“I can vouch for that,” Nic said. “Pets make great distraction devices.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” Cicero turned to Lucca Romano and lobbed a distraction of his own onto the court. “How did the basketball team do today?”
Lucca’s
Green means go
.
Watching her descend the Angel’s Rest staircase, her hips swaying with each step downward, he mentally stripped away the top half of the dress. The kind of probing he wanted to do had nothing to do with learning her secrets.
He met her at the bottom of the stairs. “Good evening,
Sirena Bellissima
.”
“Sirena?”
She arched a patrician brow. “Should I confess that I understand Italian?”
Delighted, he asked, “Are you offended that I called you ‘beautiful mermaid’?”
“I think I shouldn’t have chosen stockings that shimmer.”
“Stockings? Not pantyhose?”
She arched her brow again, this time flirtatiously. “Are you really asking me about my underwear, Mr. Cicero?”
He gave her a slow once-over. “Just trying to fill in the blanks for my fantasies, Dr. Anderson.”
“I think you think about legs too much. I understand that’s your nickname for Gabi. What does Flynn think about that?”
He shrugged and slipped his arm through hers. “She’s tall. I’m not going to call her
Stumpy
. Besides, I only use the single word. No adjective to go with it. Certainly not
beautiful
. I could just as easily call her Bird Legs or Spaghetti Legs or Green Giant. Any of those suits her.”
“Liar. She’s tall and athletic and has great legs from playing basketball.”
He touched her hair, wrapped a silken curl around his index finger. “Why are we talking about her, anyway? You are tall and delicious and have spectacular legs. It’s so easy to imagine them wrapped around me—in shimmering stockings or bare-legged skin. So, what can I get you to drink?”
She stammered a moment before saying. “Wine. Red, please.”
“Sure you don’t want something green tonight? A margarita, perhaps?”
“I don’t think they’re serving margaritas tonight.”
“Pity. Green is my new favorite color.” He slid his finger down her cheek, then along the neckline of her dress. “Green means
go
, you know. It means
yes
.”
She visibly shivered. Satisfied that he’d piqued her interest,Cicero sauntered off into the parlor toward the bar station standing in one corner. When he returned holding two glasses of cabernet, Rose stood safely beside her sister in a group of five. Cicero joined them and handed her a glass.
Nic Callahan was talking about a stray dog that Sheriff Zach Turner had picked up at a campground outside of town and left at her animal clinic, which doubled as Eternity Springs’s shelter. “He’s just a doll, a lab mix who is just as friendly as can be. He’s obviously been on his own for a while, but I’m sure he was someone’s pet at some point in his life.”
“You should adopt him, Cicero,” Gabi suggested. “You need a dog.”
“To quote my late sister’s standard reply to that suggestion, I need a dog like I need a hole in the head.”
“The kids would love it,” Gabi said. “Misty especially. Keenan wants an iguana. That’s all he talked about during their last visit.”
“Not true. The kid talked about everything under the sun when they were in town. He never shut up.”
“He’s seven,” Rose said. “That’s what seven-year-olds are supposed to do.”
“He wears me out. He only wants an iguana because his mother had a picture of the two of us with an iguana in a California bar.”
“So get him a dog,” Gabi said. “If he had a dog to play with, he wouldn’t bother you so much.”
“I can vouch for that,” Nic said. “Pets make great distraction devices.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” Cicero turned to Lucca Romano and lobbed a distraction of his own onto the court. “How did the basketball team do today?”
Lucca’s
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