Part 4 (1/2)

She brushed her lips over his when ”Night and Day” began, and they didn't come up for air until well after the song ended. Nick held her, and she wondered how he could kiss like that and dance at the same time. She had a hard time standing.

”I'm taking you home.”

His words may have said ”I'm taking you home,” but his eyes said, ”I'm taking you.” So much for rule number two.

Chapter Four.

”Yo, Vin, it's Nick.”

”Nick? What the h.e.l.l time is it? Five? Who died?” ”n.o.body. How come you're not up?” ”It's Tuesday. Nino always opens on Tuesday.” ”Oh, sorry.”

”Yeah, well, I'm up now. What do you want, and who the h.e.l.l is snoring like a freakin' freight train?” ”Dave.”

”Who the f.u.c.k is Dave?” ”Rosalie's dog.”

”Ah, so that's why you're whispering. I can't believe you get laid after you give 'em your first-date talk. I guess Sinatra's still your lucky charm, eh? So, is she as hot as she looks?”

”Lee's a nice girl.”

Nick had promised himself a long time ago he wouldn't do anything he'd regret the next morning. No matter how badly he'd wanted to take the delicious Rosalie up on her offer last night, he knew he couldn't have taken the look he'd have seen when she remembered she'd gotten drunk and allowed him, no, begged begged him, to take advantage. That was the reason he was on the phone with his cousin while he had an erection hard enough to pound rock salt. The same problem he'd had since he undressed her and put her to bed-alone. him, to take advantage. That was the reason he was on the phone with his cousin while he had an erection hard enough to pound rock salt. The same problem he'd had since he undressed her and put her to bed-alone.

”And for your information, Lee gave me me the first-date talk. If I hadn't been so surprised, I would have taken notes. Her style was ingenious.” the first-date talk. If I hadn't been so surprised, I would have taken notes. Her style was ingenious.”

”No s.h.i.+t. She must know your rep and be pullin' that reverse psychological s.h.i.+t. I tried it on Mona-didn't work.”

”Vin, she doesn't know who I am. I picked her up on the way home the other night. I drove a wrecker, and her car had broken down on the expressway. She thinks I'm a mechanic.”

”Ha! You're s.h.i.+ttin' me!”

”No, man. She thinks I'm Joe Schmoe. It's nice.” ”Yeah, she looked real nice wrapped around your leg.” ”Watch your mouth, Vin.”

”You're lucky Sonny didn't catch the same show I did.”

”Yeah, I know. I wasn't thinking.” He couldn't remember a time when he'd had so little control. Okay, there was that time with Rich's girlfriend, but h.e.l.l, he'd been a drunk kid. When a hot older woman promised to show a fifteen-year-old boy his way around a custom king, there's no way he'd say no. h.e.l.l, if Janet Reno had propositioned him, he'd have thought twice before turning her down. Nick hadn't turned Rich's girlfriend down, and he lived to regret it.

”Look, Vin, I need you to do me a favor. We left Lee's car in front of Mrs. Ragusa's house. Could you bring it to the dealers.h.i.+p today? The keys are in the register drawer at the bar.”

”Sure, but it's gonna cost ya.”

”Okay, what'll it be this time? Are you going to borrow the new Chrysler, or are you going for the Mustang? I've been driving one lately. It's pretty hot.”

”What about the Viper?”

”No way you're driving my Viper.”

”No, why aren't you driving it?”

”I'm a mechanic, remember? Mechanics don't drive Vipers.”

”Oh, right. Okay, I'll bring her car in. What does she drive?”

”It's a yellow Beetle.”

”Christ, Nick, I can't drive that. I'll never live it down.” ”Ask Mona. She'll drive it over. It's a girly car-she'll love it.”

”Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of. She already wants one. If I let her drive Rosalie's, I might as well have you special order a pink one for Mona. There's no way I'm gonna buy a freakin' fairy car. Why don't you have one of the shop guys drive it in?”

”Can't. It'd be the talk of the dealers.h.i.+p. I'm sure Trudy's already having a field day telling everyone how we argued last night. Lee insisted on paying for the tire and spare I replaced.”

”No s.h.i.+t? She's the independent type, huh?”

”Yeah, I never met a girl who didn't want a guy to take care of her. I thought independent women were an urban legend. Turns out it's no legend-it's a pain in the a.s.s.”

”I'll get the car to the shop for ya, but you owe me big. Tell Ronny I want a Chrysler 300C with all the bells and whistles.”

”Done.”

Nick put the phone back on the sofa table. Stepping over the pile of stuff he'd had to move off the couch to make room to lie down, he went in search of aspirin.

Christ, the place was a mess. He walked to the bedroom and checked on Rosalie. She still slept hard, and so did Dave, from the sound of him. Nick had no trouble finding the gla.s.ses in the immaculate kitchen, though he cursed when he saw she only had a non-aspirin painkiller. He poured himself a gla.s.s of orange juice, popped a couple, and looked around. Weird, you could eat off her kitchen floor, but it looked as if a bomb had gone off in the rest of the place. Not many things surprised him when it came to women, but Rosalie-she was a freak of nature.

He went back to the couch to lie down, wondering why he'd chosen to stay. He pushed Dave off the pillow he'd snagged from Rosalie's bed when he poured her into it last night. Clearing his throat, he tried to erase the vision of Rosalie in bed, all warm and wanton, teasing him while he did his d.a.m.nedest to behave. It didn't help that she wore lingerie that would tempt a eunuch, or that she filled it out better than anyone had a right to.

He turned the pillow over to avoid dog s...o...b..r, and ignoring his raging hard-on, tried to get some sleep.

Rosalie thought she was going to die, but she was sure that surviving was worse. Her head pounded, her tongue felt like a s.h.a.g carpet, and it hurt to focus her eyes. She should never have had that last sambuca, but Nick had looked so cute playing bartender, she'd had it anyway.

After finger combing her hair, she tried to remember what had happened the night before. She remembered Nick kissing her-a lot, and really, really well. But after that last drink, everything got fuzzy. She didn't know how she'd gotten home and into bed, wearing nothing but her bra and panties, without her knowledge.

Rosalie knew that Dave must have his legs crossed, since she couldn't remember taking him for a walk last night, either. She stumbled out of bed, happy she could stand without her head exploding. It was unfortunate that she stood on the spiked heels she'd worn the day before. Ow. Stepping on them hurt even more than wearing them. She didn't call them Benito Mussolinis instead of Bruno Maglis for nothing. They might make everything look great, but they did it by using torture.

She groaned and wondered where Dave hid. Both he and her nights.h.i.+rt were absent. She found her nights.h.i.+rt under a pillow and pulled it over her head, wanting nothing more than to return to her nice warm bed. She hoped Dave wouldn't mind watering the garden by himself, because she so so wasn't up for a trek outside. wasn't up for a trek outside.

Rosalie went to look for her furry friend and found more than one. Dave slept on one side of the sectional sofa, sharing a pillow with none other than Nick, who looked like he slept naked-not that she could tell for sure, more's the pity. The quilt she'd left thrown over the back of the sofa covered everything below the waist. Even feeling as if she should be on her way to the mortuary, looking at him stirred her imagination. Fantasies took shape-the very shape of Nick. She didn't know how long she stared at his broad, flat chest. His muscles were ripped, but not bulging, and he had a dusting of dark hair that trailed over six-pack abs and disappeared beneath the d.a.m.n quilt. She imagined how it would feel to tangle her hands in his chest hair, to feel the sc.r.a.pe of his stubbled chin against her skin, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Oh, and his mouth. What the man could do with his mouth.

She must have groaned aloud, because Nick awoke in an instant. She'd never seen anyone awaken so quickly and totally. She pulled her nights.h.i.+rt down to cover her big b.u.t.t and backed up a step.

”Sleep well?” He pushed the quilt down and stood with his back to her. He wore boxers. d.a.m.n, foiled again. He stretched, the muscles of his back and shoulders rippling, then pulled on his pants and s.h.i.+rt, turned, and looked at her as if he expected something. Um... oh, right, an answer.

”Yeah, I think.” That was the best she could do, considering she remembered nothing.

He nodded. G.o.d, what could he be doing here, and how could he look so incredible first thing in the morning? There should be a law against it.

He walked though her apartment as if he owned the place, got a gla.s.s out of the kitchen cupboard without having to search, filled it with water he knew she kept in the fridge, and took out the painkillers she had stashed over the sink. What? Had he done an inventory of her kitchen while she slept?

Nick strode barefoot toward her, his s.h.i.+rt hanging open and the waistband of his pants unb.u.t.toned. After having seen him s.h.i.+rtless and wearing only boxers, she didn't know whether to cringe or celebrate her good fortune. The man didn't have an ounce of fat on him. There were no love handles, no rolls, nothing but skin, bone, and muscle. He was the picture of male perfection... well, except for that pushy att.i.tude, but looks-wise, yeah, pretty much perfect. She wished she could say the same for herself. She tugged her s.h.i.+rt down again as he placed the tablets in her hand.