Italian Knights

Chapter One

“Sal?” Annie called, bumping the front door open with her hip as she juggled two bags of groceries. “Is that you?”

“Shh,” he hissed, reaching one long arm out to slam the door shut behind her.

“Sal!” Annie cried as he yanked the bags out of her arms and pulled her down on the floor beside him. “What
are
you doing?”

“Hiding,” he whispered, leaning up to peek out the window again.

“I can see that,” Annie complained. Craning her neck, she tried to follow his line of vision, but Sal pushed her back down and hunkered his six-foot frame closer to the floor. It was hard to squish a six-foot frame under a window ledge that was three feet high, but he was trying.

“Who are we hiding from?” Annie whispered, wondering what kind of mischief he’d gotten himself into now.

“Oh, no!” Sal groaned. “Here she comes.”

“Here
who
comes?” Exasperated, Annie struggled to sit up, but Sal held her down.

“Mrs. Altero,” he whispered. He was checking out the street as if he were on surveillance. “Her granddaughter’s visiting from Italy, and Mrs. Altero wants me to come to dinner to meet her.” Sal groaned softly. “I love Mrs. Altero dearly, but, Annie, I don’t think I can take any more of her cooking.”

Annie laughed softly. Mrs. Altero was the neighborhood matchmaker. She was a wonderful woman with a kind heart and a loving spirit, but she was also the world’s worst cook. No one in the neighborhood had the heart to tell her, so they just endured her gastronomic oddities in silence.

“Poor Sal.” Shaking her head, Annie clucked her tongue sympathetically. “It’s your own fault,” she teased. “Haven’t I been telling you, if you’re not careful one of those ladies who’re always chasing you is going to catch you?”

“Not me,” Sal quipped, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. “The only woman
I’m
ever going to have a serious relationship with is Sara Lee. I’m as slippery as greased lightning, and just as quick.” He eased himself up and peeked through the window again. “Thank God. She’s gone.” Heaving a sigh of relief, Sal relaxed against the wall and wiped an imaginary bead of sweat off his forehead.

Annie couldn’t help it, she grinned.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, the barest hint of a smile curling his lips.

“Nothing,” she lied, her smile going wider. Poor Sal. Ruggedly handsome with a head of thick, curly black hair and piercing dark eyes, he had a lazy, knock-’em-dead smile and an easygoing personality that had women everywhere throwing themselves at his feet. His rough-hewn elegance only added to his allure. No wonder little old ladies tried to feed him dinner—and their granddaughters.

“Can I get up now?” she asked, leaning on his shoulder for balance. “I’d love to play hide-and-seek with you, Detective Giordiano, but
I’m
in a hurry.”

“In a hurry?” Scooping up her groceries Sal rolled to his feet. “My God, Annie!” He leaned down to peer into her startled face. “What on earth did you do to your hair?”

“I got it cut,” she said dryly, wondering what the devil Sal was frowning about.

“What did you do that for?” He’d known Annie for years, but he had never really noticed how beautiful she was until this very moment. Her hair had been her crowning glory, a curtain of black velvet that cascaded down her back, nearly reaching her waist. Now it framed her delicate face in a curly halo, making her eyes look larger and more luminous than ever.

“Don’t you like it?” she asked hesitantly, arching her neck to meet his gaze. Sal’s frown deepened.

“Well…I guess so. It’s…I…I’m just not used to it. And what’s your hurry?” he asked, arching one dark brow suspiciously.

Annie grinned. “
I’ve
got a date.”

“A date!” Sal’s brows drew together. “What do you mean you have a date? What
kind
of date?”

“The usual kind,” she assured him, trying to banish a smile at the stunned look on his face. “With a man.” She tried to retrieve her groceries, but he wouldn’t let go. Annie sighed in exasperation.

“Sal?” Deliberately she softened her voice. “It’s been nearly two years since Tony died. Don’t you think it’s time for me to get on with the business of living?”

It had been two long years since her husband’s death and Annie knew it was time to stop living in the past, and get on with her future. She knew it, but she wasn’t quite sure Sal did. As her husband’s best friend and former partner, Sal had become her tower of strength, a friendly shoulder to cry on. As tempting as it was to always lean on him, Annie knew she couldn’t do it forever. Sal had to get on with his own life, too, and she knew Sal wouldn’t do that unless he was certain she could handle things on her own. Dating again was her own way of showing him she could take care of herself. Despite Sal’s reputation as a womanizer, he was one of the kindest, sweetest men she had ever known. But she was tired of being his personal burden, no matter how good a friend he had been to her husband. Or to her.

“You’re going out with a
man
?” Sal repeated incredulously, as if she’d just announced she was planning a one-woman assault on some top secret military installation.

Annie rolled her eyes to the heavens. “Yes, with a man!” Her back went up. “Believe it or not, Sal, I’m twenty-six years old. I’m not
quite
over-the-hill yet. A man is actually interested in taking me out. Now I know that might come as a shock to you, but—”

“That’s not what I mean, Annie.” Sal shook his dark head slowly, as if trying to assimilate all this information. “I…it’s not a shock, it’s just…well… Annie, you never said anything to
me
about this.” His tone of voice clearly indicated he thought this an obvious breach of social etiquette.

“Now, Sal,” Annie admonished gently, noting the grave look on his handsome features. “Do you tell me every time you have a date?”

“That’s…different,” Sal retorted vaguely, and Annie’s dark brows rose a fraction.

“Different?” she repeated, cocking her head to look at him. “And why, may I ask, is that different?”

“Because.”

“Because why?” she persisted, and Sal shifted his large frame uncomfortably.

“Just…
because
,” he insisted with an airy wave of his hand. Her dark eyes narrowed and she looked at him carefully.

“Let me get this straight,” Annie said slowly, feeling her temper rise. “It’s all right for
you
to go out carousing every night, but not me, is that right?”

“Right,” he confirmed. His jaw tightened. “And what do you mean
carousing
?” he thundered. “You said this was a date,
you never said anything about carousing!
”

Annie ground her teeth together. She’d been in mourning longer than she’d been married, long enough for the pain to fade to a distant memory, so why was Sal acting as if it were a sacrilege that she was going out on a date? “Would you mind telling me why it’s all right for
you
to go out, but not for me?”

“Because I’m a man,” he returned, as if that explained everything.

“Because you’re a—” Annie inhaled deeply. “Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?” she cried, furious at his sexist remark.

“Don’t swear, Ann Marie,” Sal instructed, using her given name to show his annoyance.

“Salvatore Giordiano,” she snapped, glaring up into his face. “I’m twenty-six years old. I’ve buried my mother, my father
and
my husband. I think I’ve earned the right to swear if I want to!”

Sal heaved a deep, exasperated sigh that stretched his shirt taut across rippling muscles. His suit jacket was slung carelessly over his shoulder, and his tie hung at half-mast, circling the massive column of his neck. He looked tired and perplexed, and about as confused as she’d ever seen him.

“Sal,” she began carefully. “Do you have some objection to me dating?”

He looked at her and felt his gut tighten. Annie and another guy! Damn! He knew eventually she would start dating again. It was only natural. She was a young, beautiful woman and had a lot to offer. It was just that he hadn’t expected it—at least not so soon. In his mind he
knew
the day would come eventually, but the idea of Annie with some guy—any guy—made him feel like hitting something.

“No,” he lied, absently scratching the back of his neck. “I guess I don’t have any objections. I’m just…surprised.” Sal tried to force a smile he didn’t feel. “How did you meet this…
guy
?” he inquired, deliberately making her date sound like some errant strand of virus she’d unintentionally picked up somewhere.

“He was interested in buying the store—”

“Buying the store!” Sal bellowed. “You didn’t tell me you were selling the store,” he accused, his deep, gravelly voice tinged with intense annoyance. Annie shook her head and rolled her eyes toward the heavens. The Milano Deli had been in her family for three generations; it was practically a landmark in the old Italian neighborhood known as Little Italy where they lived. The deli sat on a prime piece of real estate, and despite the numerous—and generous—offers she’d received, Sal knew she would never sell it.

“I’m not selling the store,” she explained patiently. “I never
had
any intention of selling the store. But David didn’t know that until he came in to inquire. After I told him I wasn’t interested in selling, we started talking and—” she shrugged, wondering why she suddenly felt so defensive, “—he asked me for a date.”

Sal’s face darkened and a muscle along his cheek jerked. “Do you mean to tell me,” he thundered, “that you’re going out with some…some…
stranger
who just happened to mosey on into the store?” Anger thickened his voice, giving it a deep, gritty texture Annie felt all the way down to her toes.

“He’s not a stranger,” she protested, wondering why on earth Sal was treating her like a rebellious twelve-year-old.

“Just what do you know about this…
Duntley
guy?”

Annie’s eyes slid closed. “His name is David,” she corrected, knowing Sal was deliberately trying to be obtuse to aggravate her. “And he’s in real estate,” she added, as if that were a wealth of information. Annie could see he was struggling for control. He jammed a hand through his dark hair and started again.

“Do you mean to tell me,” he said carefully, “that you are going out on a date with a man you know nothing about?”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Annie cried in exasperation “Are you feeling all right?” She reached out to touch his forehead for signs of a fever. Sal drew back and gave her a stern look.

“This isn’t funny, Annie. You don’t even know this man—”

“Sal,” she cried, trying not to laugh at the intensity in his face. “I’m going on a date, Sal. Nothing more, nothing less. It’s not a lifelong commitment. We’re going to have dinner, go dancing, maybe even go park for a while,” she teased, her dark eyes alight with mischief in an effort to make him see the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Park!” Sal thundered, obviously seeing nothing of the kind. “I’m going to check this guy out,” he barked, pushing past her.

“Oh, no, you’re not! You are
not
going to play detective with my date,” Annie cried, grabbing his arm. She knew how intimidating Sal could be when he put his mind to it. “I’m perfectly capable of handling my own life and my own
affairs
.”

Affairs.
The word reverberated around the silent room, bouncing off the walls and echoing over and over. Oh, Lord. Annie swallowed hard. “Sal… It’s—that’s not—that’s not what I meant,” she stammered weakly as he drew himself up to his full height, expelling a deep, exasperating breath.

“Ann Marie,” he said gravely. “Just what has gotten into you?”

“Into me?” she cried, resisting the urge to whack him. “You’re the one whose behavior is so peculiar! What on earth is wrong with you?” She glared up at him, and he glared right back. For long, silent moments they stared at each other.

A sudden thought occurred to Annie and she immediately felt contrite. Oh, Lord, why hadn’t she realized it sooner?

Of course Sal would be upset that she was dating again. Perhaps in his mind, he felt as if she were being disloyal to Tony’s memory. Sal and Tony had grown up together, they’d been closer than brothers, naturally Sal would be upset about her reentry into society.

“Sal,” she said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—” Annie lowered her gaze. Why hadn’t she been more sensitive? She should have known that Sal would feel uncomfortable about her dating again. Perhaps she shouldn’t have just dropped it on him; she should have eased into it a bit more slowly. She had to let Sal know that her dating, her getting back into life was in no way an act of disloyalty. What it was, was her own declaration of independence, an act that would set Sal free. She’d leaned on him long enough.