Italian Knights (10 page)

“Oh, Annie!” Mrs. Altero suddenly called from across the street, waving a lace handkerchief and hurrying toward them. “Yoo-hoo!” Mrs. Altero carefully stopped a stream of traffic as she crossed the street. Puffing to a halt, she smiled. “So…” she purred, looking at David with interest. “This is a new friend?”

Word sure traveled fast, Annie thought with amusement. Everyone, no doubt, wanted to get a glimpse of the stranger she’d dated. “Mrs. Altero, I’d like you to meet David Donaldson.”

Mrs. Altero batted her lashes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Donald.” She extended her hand, and David just stared at her.

“It’s David,” he corrected stiffly.

“So…tell me, Donald,” Mrs. Altero said, looping her arm through his and steering him toward the street. “Do you like home cooking?”

“Home cooking?” David repeated, glancing over his shoulder at Annie. “Well, yes, I…I love home cooking.”

“Wonderful.” Mrs. Altero beamed. She knew a pigeon when she saw one. “I’ve just made a wonderful pot of rabbit stew. You must come and have some.”

“But…but…Annie!”

“Don’t worry about Annie,” Mrs. Altero assured him, dragging him across the street. “She’s very busy today. But I’d surely enjoy your company. The table is all set, and we can have a nice chat. It’s a shame my granddaughter isn’t home. She’s a lovely girl.”

“Have a nice lunch,” Annie called, trying not to laugh at the expression on David’s face. She had to admit that she felt a little guilty at letting him be bamboozled by Mrs. Altero. Anyway, maybe if he got to know some of the people in the neighborhood, he would realize how very special Little Italy was, and why she would never move.

Annie turned and started to head back into the deli. A dark blue sedan screeched around the corner, coming to a halt in front of her. Annie shaded her eyes from the harsh afternoon sun and watched as Sal jumped from the car.

Her pulse danced a merry pace at the sight of him. God, he looked wonderful. He had on soft, faded jeans that were nearly worn through in spots and fit his muscular legs like a second skin. A white polo shirt with the collar open and turned up, stretched wide across his broad shoulders. Tennis shoes—carelessly untied—covered his feet. He looked like a man who was going somewhere in a hurry.

He glanced around as if he was looking for someone before bringing his gaze to hers. He smiled, and her heart began to thud wickedly. “Hi,” he said simply, shoving his keys into the pocket of his jeans and coming around the car toward her. “How is everything today?”

“Everything is just fine.” Annie rocked back on her heels and returned his smile. “What brings you here this time of the afternoon?” Whatever the reason, Annie was glad to see him. His presence made her feel vulnerable, yet cared for. He couldn’t hide the concern in his dark eyes. So much had changed in just the past few days, Annie thought. So much. Their relationship. Her feelings. Oh, Lord. She had to stop this, she was driving herself crazy. She was supposed to be learning to stand on her own feet, not depending on him more and more.

“Just came to see how you were.” He smiled into her eyes, lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair off her cheek. Her skin burned from his touch, coming alive from the warmth of him. All of her sincere efforts to keep her feelings about Sal in perspective crumbled the moment he came near. “After all, what are chaperones for?” he asked with a grin.

“Sal,” she began, wanting to put an end to this nonsense before it got out of hand. “I really wish—”

“Come on, let’s go inside, I’m starving.” Sal dropped his hand to her back and guided her into the store, pausing to wink at Mr. Finucci, who gave him a thumbs-up signal in return. He’d told his mother to pass the word: if David showed up, they were supposed to call him—and then keep David occupied until he could get there. Evidently they’d done a fine job. Annie was safe, and Dancing David was nowhere in sight.

It was just too much of a coincidence for his cop’s intuition that last night, the first night Annie had been gone for the evening, the deli had been robbed. He didn’t have any concrete evidence, nothing to base his suspicions on, but he had a gut feeling Dancing David was somehow connected to the burglary. How, he didn’t know yet, but he’d already done some checking this morning. Until he found out just what the hell was going on he didn’t want David anywhere near Annie—at least not without him around.

Annie looked at Sal carefully. “David was just here,” she announced unnecessarily. She had a feeling she was telling him something he already knew.

“Don’t forget you owe me a game,” Mr. Finucci growled as they passed. He leaned forward to try to pinch Annie, but she stepped out of his reach just in the nick of time.

“What was all that about?” Annie wanted to know.

“All what, Annie?” Sal repeated vaguely, trying unsuccessfully to banish a grin.

“The wink and the grin, and the ‘You owe me a game’ stuff. What are you up to, Sal?”

“Me?” He drew back looking greatly offended. “What makes you think I’m up to something? I just promised Mr. Finucci a game of boccie, that’s all.” Sal paused, bending over the counter to plant a kiss on his mother’s and his aunt’s cheeks. They, too, flashed him a thumbs-up signal and Annie sighed.

Something was definitely going on here. But she had a feeling neither Sal, his mother, his aunt, Mrs. Altero
nor
Mr. Finucci, for that matter, were going to let her in on it.

“Auntie Florina, cut me a piece of that cheese, will you?” Sal plucked the cheese from his aunt’s hand and rounded the corner to the cooler with Annie on his heels. Retrieving a cold soda, he took a long sip, knowing Annie was watching him.

“I didn’t have lunch,” he explained, leaning against the wall.

“Do you want a sandwich? I can fix you one.”

Sal shook his head and finished off his cheese. “So, tell me, how is David?” The man’s name was beginning to get on his nerves. He didn’t like him, and it wasn’t just because he was interested in Annie, although that was part of it—a large part.

Sal cocked his head and studied Annie. Something was happening to him, something he didn’t understand. Ever since he’d kissed her, he’d had an uneasy feeling in his gut. And he didn’t like it one bit.

He had his lifestyle down pat—no commitments, no strings. He’d been happy, or so he’d thought, until a few days ago. Now he wasn’t so sure. Holding Annie in his arms, he’d realized something had been missing from his life. Love.

Ever since he’d kissed her he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Last night he had lain awake all night, wondering what it would be like to have her with him. His thoughts scared the hell out of him, yet filled him with a strange and wonderful buoyancy. She was no longer just the widow of his best friend, but a beautiful, desirable woman.

Smooth, Suave Sal. He smiled to himself. That wasn’t him, not really; it was an image, not the man inside. The man inside was scared as hell right now because what he was feeling for Annie was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

Her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes lit with pleasure, everything about her was so familiar and yet so achingly new. He wanted more than just a few kisses, more than a few caresses; he wanted Annie, and he didn’t know what the hell to do about it.

“David is fine,” Annie said glumly, wondering what was going on behind Sal’s dark eyes.

“What did he want?”

“He wanted me to have supper with him tonight.”

“And?” One dark brow rose in question.

“And that’s it,” she answered, knowing her evasiveness would annoy him. It did.

“So are you?” he asked, after thoughtfully chewing his cheese.

Annie sighed. “Am I what, Sal?”

“Having supper with Dancing David?” Sal’s eyes tracked her, watching as she nervously pinched a piece of her apron between two fingers.

“No.” She shook her head, and he heaved a sigh of relief. “I’ve got too much to do here today,” she lied, not wanting Sal to know she had no intention of dating David again. “I have to wait for the glass repairman, and fill out insurance forms and—”

“Did you discover anything else missing?” Sal asked casually. Two candy bars were hardly worth breaking in for. He had a feeling the burglary was something more than it seemed, but he hadn’t yet figured out what it was.

“Sal, do you know something?” Annie asked suspiciously. “Something that you’re not telling me?”

“I don’t know.” Sal shrugged his shoulders and grinned. “There’re probably a lot of things I know that I haven’t got around to telling you. Anything specific you had in mind?” Until he had some concrete proof of his suspicions, he didn’t want to tell Annie anything. There was no point in alarming her any further. He was certain she was safe, but just in case, Sal intended to stick close to her—very close—just to make sure she was. He wasn’t about to let anyone or anything harm her. He’d waited too long for her.

“The burglary, Sal? Do you know something about it you’re not telling me?” A chill of fear washed over her again, and she shivered.

“No, nothing definite,” he assured her, shaking his head and wanting to change the subject. “So, tell me, how did David find out about the burglary?”

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully, frowning. “Someone from the neighborhood must have told him.”

Sal doubted it. He added it to the list of things to check out. David was a stranger, and strangers weren’t easily welcomed or trusted. David was no exception. He stuck out like a pair of brown shoes with a tuxedo.

“He was quite concerned,” she added, wanting to prove to Sal that David was harmless. “It’s funny, because just last night, before you joined us, David was trying to talk me into moving out of the neighborhood because he doesn’t think it’s safe.”

Sal straightened abruptly as warning bells began to clang ominously in his head. “He what?” Sal grabbed Annie’s elbow and dragged her into the back room so they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Sal,” she cried, trying to get free. “What on earth are you doing? What has gotten into you?” Annie yanked her arm free, staring up at him in astonishment. “What on earth has come over you the past few days?”

“Annie,” he said gravely, dropping his hands to her shoulders. “I want you to tell me exactly what David said last night. Do you hear me? Everything. And don’t leave anything out.”

“Everything?” she repeated in alarm. “How can I possibly remember everything we talked about? And what difference does it make? Sal, if you’re going to start acting like a deranged father ag—”

“Annie, please.” Sighing, Sal dragged a hand through his hair. He needed this information, but he didn’t want to alarm her. “Could you please just indulge me?”

“But why?” She’d never seen Sal so intense, so serious. This wasn’t just some macho inquisition, this was something else altogether.

“Annie, please?”

Sal never asked her for anything. If he wanted a blow-by-blow account of her boring conversation with David, she would give it to him. “Last night,” she began carefully, “David was giving me a lecture about his stocks, his bonds, his Remingtons—”

“His what?” Sal frowned.

“Remingtons,” she repeated with a heavy sigh. “They’re paintings. When he took me to his apartment, I was admiring his—”

Sal’s jaw tightened. “He took you to his apartment!”

“No,” she snapped, growing annoyed at his interrogation. “He changed his clothes in the back seat of the car! Of course he took me to his apartment. And stop scowling like that, Sal.”

“All right, all right. Go on. Then what?”

“We drove to the restaurant, and we talked about—” She stopped, not wanting to tell Sal that they’d talked about
him
. She had a feeling David’s rather caustic comments about Sal wouldn’t further endear David to him. “We talked about the neighborhood,” she hedged. “He said he was concerned about my welfare. You know, the poor widow woman living alone.” She tried to make light of it, but apparently Sal’s sense of humor was out of joint this morning.

“Is that all?”

“Well,” she fumed, “I’m sure there would have been more if we hadn’t been so rudely interrupted!”

He grinned. “Are you implying that I was rude?”

Annie glared at him. “What would you call muscling in on my date, and getting us thrown out of a restaurant?”

“A smart move,” he quipped, his grin widening. He glanced at his watch. He was waiting for a call that would answer some questions about Dancing David.

“Sal, why all this interest in David and our date? I know you don’t like him, but—”

“Do you?” he asked abruptly. His eyes held hers until her knees felt weak. “Do you like him, Annie?” he asked again, tipping her chin up until her gaze met his. Annie took a deep breath as his clean male scent washed over her.

Utterly disgusted at the sudden flare of hope in her heart, Annie made a heroic effort to control her feelings. Sal was just asking because
he
didn’t like David and he was concerned for her welfare. Not for any other reason, she assured herself. And she’d better not start thinking any differently.

But last night after she’d crawled into bed, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Sal, or his kisses. She kept reliving it over and over in her mind. She realized that Sal was everything a woman could ever want—patient, kind, loving, giving. But just because the man had kissed her was no reason for her to start entertaining thoughts she had no business entertaining.