Книга - A Little Holiday Temptation

A Little Holiday Temptation
Janice Sims


Two friends. One chance at a lifetime love?Ana Corelli and Erik Whitaker have always been there for each other. Trouble is, Ana’s starting to see the sexy entrepreneur as more than just a broad shoulder to cry on. After some soul-searching, she’s finally ready to tell Erik how she feels. But between missed opportunities and an unexpected push back into the spotlight, their timing never seems to be right.As the new face of Corelli Fashions, Ana is putting her family’s international company on the map. Erik couldn’t be prouder…and feels this is the moment to confess his pent-up love for the voluptuous model. But now there’s another man in Ana’s life.With the magic of the holiday season around them, will Erik be able to show Ana that he’s the only one for her? And that sometimes best friends forever can become lovers for life… Kimani Hotties: It’s All About Our Men







Two friends. One chance at a lifetime of love?

Ana Corelli and Erik Whitaker have always been there for each other. Trouble is, Ana’s starting to see the sexy entrepreneur as more than just a broad shoulder to cry on. After some soul-searching, she’s finally ready to tell Erik how she feels. But between missed opportunities and an unexpected push back into the spotlight, their timing never seems to be right.

As the new face of Corelli Fashions, Ana is putting her family’s international company on the map. Erik couldn’t be prouder…and feels this is the moment to confess his pent-up love for the voluptuous model. But now there’s another man in Ana’s life. With the magic of the holiday season around them, will Erik be able to show Ana that he’s the only one for her? And that sometimes best friends forever can become lovers for life…?


He lowered his head and inhaled

her unique fragrance. She’d noticed that he liked doing that, as though the

smell of her skin gave him

sensual pleasure. It turned her on, too.

Her body immediately reacted to his: her nipples grew hard and she became moist between her legs. It was a heady, all too erotic sensation that was so delicious she let out a soft sigh. She looked at his lips. He was smiling and his white teeth, coupled with those juicy lips, looked so inviting that she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Erik didn’t need any further provocation. Her lips were soft and her mouth so sweet that before he knew it he had lifted her body and her legs were wrapped around him in a bid to get even closer. Their tongues danced gently at first and found the encounter so pleasing that the kiss deepened and soon they were both sounding as though they were consuming something extremely tasty as, no doubt, they were. Erik, as the one who had most of the physical strength between them, knew that he had to back off before things got out of hand. Ana wasn’t ready for things to go any further than a kiss, but it was their first real kiss and, heaven help him, if her kisses were this good, what would sex with her be like?

It was Ana who came up for air first and looked him in the eyes. She pressed her cheek to his. “Oh, God, why haven’t you kissed me before now?”

“I’ve been a fool,” Erik said, and kissed her again.


JANICE SIMS

is the author of nineteen novels and has had stories included in nine anthologies. She is the recipient of an Emma Award for her novel Desert Heat and two Romance in Color awards: an Award of Excellence for her novel For Keeps and a Best Novella award for her short story “The Keys to My Heart” in the anthology A Very Special Love. She has been nominated for a Career Achievement Award by RT Book Reviews, and her novel Temptation’s Song was nominated for Best Kimani Romance Series in 2010 by RT Book Reviews. She lives in Florida with her family.


A Little Holiday Temptation

Janice Sims






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Dear Reader,

If you’ve read the previous Temptation books—Temptation’s Song, Temptation’s Kiss and Dance of Temptation—you’re already familiar with Erik Whitaker and Ana Corelli, who have been friends only for the past two years. It was my plan to end the Temptation series with Dance of Temptation; however, I received so many messages from readers via email, JaniceSims.com and Facebook wanting to know if Erik and Ana were going to get their story told that I knew I had to write it.

So this book is for you!

Janice Sims


Thanks to Glenda Howard for agreeing to publish

this book when I asked her if it could be

my next Kimani Romance book due to heightened reader interest. Also to Shannon Criss, whose editorial assistance was most appreciated. And, as always, thanks to my agent, Sha-Shana Crichton, for her kindness and encouragement.


Contents

Chapter 1 (#uc2612dce-a972-5486-a599-4f0469762682)

Chapter 2 (#u26cafb23-83c6-586e-9657-80ce374bfa2e)

Chapter 3 (#u68dc7615-16ca-5c01-b0c2-a54db98dacb8)

Chapter 4 (#uf52160c4-7baf-583e-8915-4db06a7b8ae2)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter 1

The cab pulled up to the midtown Manhattan restaurant whose large picture windows spilled forth a welcoming golden light. After paying the driver, Ana Corelli paused a moment with her hand on the door’s handle. Nervousness caused her stomach muscles to clench painfully. Today she had made a decision that would change her life forever. If anyone would understand why she’d done it, Erik would.

With a determined grimace she opened the cab’s door and stepped out. She shivered a little in the cold October night’s air. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Ms. Corelli,” said the driver, craning his neck to smile at her.

Ana was no longer surprised when someone recognized her. Due to magazine covers, print ads, fashion shows and TV ads, her image was all over the world. She returned his smile. “You have a good evening,” she said in parting, her Italian accent slight but present. She had grown up speaking both English and Italian. Her mother was an African-American opera singer who had married an Italian and moved to Milan. Ana, her brother, Dominic, and sister, Sophia, had been taught to revere both cultures.

After the cab sped away, she smoothed her leather jacket over her skirt and adjusted the bag on her shoulder before resolutely walking toward the restaurant’s entrance. The hostess, an attractive African-American woman, smiled warmly as she approached her. “Good to see you again, Ms. Corelli, Mr. Whitaker is at the bar. We anticipate a twenty-minute wait for a table.”

“Thank you,” said Ana pleasantly. “I’ll join Mr. Whitaker at the bar, then.”

“Enjoy your evening,” said the hostess, and returned to her post in time to greet a young couple entering the restaurant.

Ana stopped in her tracks when she spotted Erik sitting on a barstool at the cherrywood bar, a glass of lager sitting in front of him that looked like it hadn’t been touched. She smiled. He wasn’t a big drinker. Today, he was wearing a tailored dark blue suit with a white shirt and maroon-striped silk tie. It was Friday and he’d probably come straight here from the office. He rarely got out of there before seven.

She slid onto the stool beside him. He looked at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar, and smiled at her. Turning to her, his eyes swept over her face. “So, how does it feel to be back in the world of the living?”

She grinned, and leaned in to kiss his cheek. He smelled good, as if he’d taken the time to shave his five-o’clock shadow in his office bathroom before leaving to meet her. She placed her hand along his strong jaw. Erik looked at her in his enigmatic way. Those golden-hued eyes seemed to bore into her soul. “I finished the last painting only a few hours ago,” she told him softly. “I slept for a couple hours then woke up, phoned you, and here I am. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” he murmured close to her ear. The sound of his voice, as always, made her warm inside.

She’d spent the last two weeks exiled in her Greenwich Village loft, completing paintings that would comprise her first show at a New York City gallery. Erik knew this. However he didn’t know why she had asked to see him tonight.

She was about to blurt it out when a woman sat down on the other side of Erik and accidentally knocked her martini glass over, causing the drink to spill onto Erik’s leg. Luckily, the woman had nearly finished the drink before sitting down so Erik only received a small stain on his pants’ leg.

The woman grabbed a handful of napkins from the bar’s top and began pressing the wadded up napkins on top of Erik’s leg, apologizing all the while. “I’m so sorry,” she said, screwing up her beautiful face in a pretty pout. “I’m such a klutz.”

Erik laughed shortly, and held the woman’s hand at bay. If she ran her hand any higher up on his leg, she would get entirely too personal for his comfort. “It’s all right,” he assured her. “It’s an old suit.”

The woman, who was dressed in designer clothes herself, obviously knew quality when she saw it. She was certainly looking at it. He was around six-one and in great shape. His clean-shaven, square-chinned face was handsome in a rugged, utterly masculine way. His eyes were so beautiful, she could drown in them, and if his voice were any sexier, she’d melt. She peered at his shoes, his watch, how perfectly his suit fit him, his skin, his teeth, his haircut, and realized that with him, money was no object. She wouldn’t have conveniently spilled her drink on him if he had looked penniless.

“At least let me buy you a drink,” she said. Her big brown eyes were very persuasive.

“That’s sweet of you,” said Erik, “but I already have a drink, and was just about to order one for my date.” He indicated Ana with a nod in her direction.

The woman looked over at Ana who had watched the scene with an amused expression. She’d seen women use that “spilled drink” trick on more than one occasion. Erik was too much of a gentleman, however, to call the woman out on it.

“Oh,” said the woman, her ample chest heaving with a sigh, “I see.” Still not willing to give up entirely, she withdrew a card from her purse and placed it in Erik’s palm. “Perhaps we can have that drink some other time,” she said for his ears only.

She smoothly removed herself from the barstool, not giving him a chance to return her card, if he was of that mind. Looking at Ana, she said in parting, “Did anyone ever tell you you’re a dead ringer for Ana Corelli?”

What nerve! Ana thought angrily. She sent mental daggers into the woman’s retreating back. How desperate do you have to be to boldly accost a man who was obviously with another woman? She had to take several deep breaths before she trusted herself to return her attention to Erik who was watching her with a smile touching the corners of his generous mouth. “Where were we?” he asked, coaxing her back into their intimate circle.

For a moment, Ana couldn’t form words. Heat flared in her face. Now she knew how being hot under the collar felt. For some reason that woman’s behavior made her fiercely protective of Erik and ready to defend her territory. But Erik wasn’t her territory. They were friends. In the beginning, he had told her he was attracted to her and wanted to date her, but at that time she had just gotten out of a disastrous relationship with an egotistical actor whose treatment of her had left her insecure. She’d told Erik that they could be friends, but she was giving up on dating for a while, but she hadn’t dated anyone else since they had started hanging out together. Come to think of it, neither had he that she knew of. Could he have a secret lover? Someone he hooked up with on occasion to satisfy his needs? He was a red-blooded male, after all. She had longings herself. It only stood to reason that he did, too.

Suddenly she was wondering if she were standing in his way of a real relationship. Someone he could get serious about, and consider marrying. Erik, married and no longer a major part of her life? The thought made her cringe inwardly. She could not imagine life without Erik.

“Ana?”

Ana realized Erik was waiting on her to tell him why she’d called. She cleared her throat. “I quit my day job,” she announced.

Erik didn’t look surprised. “You’ve been talking about it for a long time. Modeling doesn’t make you happy, painting does. You should follow your heart.”

“I still have to fulfill my cosmetics contract, plus my family’s company is starting a new line of clothing for full-figured women. I’ll be appearing in ads for it since I’ve put on a few pounds.” She looked at him out of the corner of her eye to see if he’d respond to the mention of extra pounds. But there was no reaction whatsoever.

Erik only smiled. He had noticed. The added ten pounds or so made her look healthier and less angular. She’d filled out in all the right places, fuller breasts and hips, a rounder, less concave belly. He loved her new body. She had always been sexy to him. Now even sexier. He could tell she knew it, too. There was more jiggle in her walk, as if she were indeed feeling confident about her new body.

Of course, he couldn’t say that out loud. They were supposed to be just friends. If she knew he coveted her body, often dreamed of making love to her, there was no telling how she would react. He remembered when he’d tried to date her in the beginning. She’d told him she’d given up on men. If he wanted to be a part of her life, he would have to be satisfied with her friendship, nothing else. It had been two long years. His frustration was coming to a head. He wanted, no, he needed more. Every time he resolved to tell her how he felt, however, he would talk himself out of it because having her in his life was preferable to not having her in his life at all. If she gave him any indication of feeling about him the way he felt about her, though, he would jump on the opportunity with both feet. All he needed was a sign.

The way she was looking at that woman who had come on to him could possibly be that sign. Could it be that she was possessive of him? The thought was intriguing.

The bartender took her drink order and once they were alone again, Ana regarded him with a contemplative expression on her face and said, “You and I have always been honest with each other, haven’t we?”

A cautious man, Erik took a moment to wonder why she would ask that. “I’ve always thought so,” he replied hesitantly.

Ana smiled warmly. Dimples appeared in both cheeks. Her deep brown eyes held his gaze. “Am I standing in the way of your future happiness?”

“What?” He looked genuinely puzzled. Then, he laughed. Looking down at the card lying on the bar the woman from earlier had given him, he said, “You mean that?” He met her gaze once more. “You know how I feel about you. I’m the man who’s willing to wait, remember?” She detected no bitterness in his voice, which made her feel even worse.

She could let it drop but she had to get to the heart of the matter. “You don’t feel as if I’ve been using you these past two years? I know you said you would wait until I was ready for a relationship. But maybe you’ve changed your mind and our being friends all this time has made you see me in a different light—as a friend. Not a lover.”

Erik’s brows raised in an incredulous expression. If anything, the time they’d spent together had made him fall for her even harder. They had met in Milan, on the opening night of Temptation, Ana’s brother Dominic’s modern opera, nearly two years ago. Initially, he had to admit, his attraction to her was physical. There was no denying she was gorgeous. Five ten and built for sin. Skin the color of toasted almonds. She had a heart-shaped face with big brown eyes, a well-shaped nose, full, sensually curved lips and a cleft in her chin, which gave her a distinctive look. Her naturally wavy black hair was long and usually falling down her back. Yes, all the physical parts fit together very nicely. But that was only part of why he loved Ana. To know her was to love her, and knowing her made him privy to her inner workings. For example, there was a great mind behind that beautiful face. She would rather be curled up with a good book than go to a social event where she would be the center of attention. Material possessions, though she could very well afford the best, were not of utmost importance to her. She gave generously of her time and money. And family meant more to her than anything else in the world.

“If you’re asking if I’m no longer interested in you…romantically, then the answer is don’t be ridiculous. Just give me the word and I’ll throw you over my shoulder and take you to my place right now and make love to you all night long.” His sensual perusal made her blush.

She demurely lowered her eyes and gave a contented sigh. So, he still wanted her. That was good to know. Now, what was she going to do about it? She raised her eyes to his. “Have you ever considered the idea of our being friends with benefits?”

Because she most certainly had—many, many times!

The bartender walked up and placed her chilled white wine in front of her, then promptly departed. She took a fortifying sip as she awaited Erik’s answer. What was wrong with her tonight, she wondered. Was the fact that she had made one big decision psychologically urging her to make an even bigger one? She had been dragging her feet about their relationship because she was so content with Erik in her life. Why mess with perfection? Her last relationship had ended after she’d become intimate with the guy. It was as if getting her into bed was the ultimate goal and once that was accomplished she wasn’t desirable to him anymore. And the guy before him had dropped her because she’d wanted to wait until she knew him better before going to bed with him. He had been conceited enough to tell her a requirement to being with him was sex, and lots of it. He’d called her a freak of nature! She was sure she was probably complicating her problem with men too much. She’d simply made bad choices in men. She was twenty-five and had had only one lover, and he’d turned out to be a bastard. Intellectually, she knew this. However, telling that to her broken heart was another thing, entirely.

Erik was so different from the others. He was solid and reliable. A brilliant businessman, he had taken his family’s company to new heights. Of course, his father, John Whitaker, had given him a wonderful foundation to build upon but Erik was continuing the tradition of making the family name an honorable one in big business. Known for buying failing companies and turning them around, thereby saving the jobs of many Americans, Erik found satisfaction in a job well done.

His cognac-colored eyes held an amused expression when he answered her question, his tone seductive, “About twice a day, maybe four times a day on weekends.”

Ana fanned her face. She’d flushed upon hearing him admit that. So, she wasn’t the only one who had sex on the brain. “I’ve thought of it just as often,” she admitted.

“But I’d never actually do it,” said Erik, his expression turning serious. He sighed and sat up straighter on the barstool. Looking deep into her eyes, he said, “Ana, being friends with benefits means that you will somehow be able to detach yourself from your feelings while you’re making love. I could never do that with you. When we make love it’s going to be seriously emotional. I’m not going to hold anything back. Everything I’ve wanted to express to you in a physical way over the last two years will be in every touch. So, if you want me, you’ll have to take all of me, not just a part of me.”

Ana was trying to calm her racing heart. The man was hot as hell. What would happen if she just let go and told him, “yes, let’s go back to your place right now? It’s time.” Actually it was way past time to do something about the sexual tension building between them.

She was glad when the hostess approached and said their table was ready. Erik handed the bartender a tip and with it, the woman’s card. “Would you mind disposing of that for me?”

He then escorted Ana to their table and helped her into her chair.

“Your waiter will be with you shortly,” said the hostess, and left.

“You were saying?” Erik said, looking at Ana expectantly.

“You’re right,” Ana said a bit breathlessly. “We’re well past the friends-with-benefits stage. I couldn’t make love to you, and then return to being just friends the next day. I’m not made that way.”

Erik grasped her hand. “I have to say I’m a little surprised by the suggestion. What brought this on?”

Suddenly Ana knew exactly why she hadn’t given in to Erik until now. It wasn’t just that she was afraid of messing up a good thing. The epiphany was a relief to her. But it also made her a little sad. Looking him straight in the eyes, Ana said, her voice awe filled, “I kept putting you off because…I didn’t feel worthy of you.”

“How could you have felt that way?” Erik asked. Surprise was evident in his tone.

Ana cut him off with, “I know it never crossed your mind. But listen, please. I grew up in a family of overachievers. My mother was a world-renowned singer. My father has run the family business for decades with great success, and my sister is following in his footsteps. Do I need to mention how beloved my brother, the maestro, is?” She paused to breathe. “Growing up, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I loved to draw but in a country like Italy where so many of the great artists were born I felt more than a little intimidated. I hid my work for years, not wanting anyone to see what I’d created. Then, when I was a teenager and I just kept growing, five-ten at fifteen, someone told me I should be a model and I thought to myself, ‘That’s something I could be good at,’ and to my utter surprise I was signed to an agency right away. But I never felt as if it were an accomplishment. After all, beauty is something you inherit from your parents. It’s not something you earn.”

“I think a lot of people who work hard on their physical appearance would disagree with you,” Erik pointed out.

“Yes, of course I have to eat right and exercise, but this face was a gift from God,” Ana countered.

“Are you feeling guilty again because your image is used to make women feel insecure?” he asked softly. “So insecure that they’ll buy the products your face helps to sell in order to aim for an impossibly high standard of beauty?”

“No, it isn’t, Dr. Freud. It’s about leaving behind something lasting when I’m dead,” Ana insisted, smiling at his instant psychoanalysis. Although, she did, like several other models she knew, feel guilty about propagating an image of perfection that was, frankly, a lie. She had been honest in several interviews about the hours spent being made-up and then, if the subsequent photographs weren’t up to par, being airbrushed to make them perfect.

“You’re a man of substance, a man whose life means much more than the pursuit of self-gratification. To me, what you do is inspiring, saving peoples’ jobs, keeping families together. Being a model doesn’t compare to that.”

“You have helped raise millions of dollars for New York City’s homeless,” Erik reminded her.

“Yes, as a result of modeling I’ve been able to help others. That’s a plus. In my opinion, the only true benefit. It’s not enough, though. You need a woman who is equal to you in every way.”

Erik laughed softly. “You’re already my equal in every way.”

Ana took a sip of her wine and swallowed. “There’s always room for improvement.”

Erik raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “You do realize that this is your personal little quirk, and I wholeheartedly disagree with your assessment?”

“If that’s business talk for you think I’m a little nuts to think this way, then, yeah, I do,” Ana said, smiling.

Their waiter approached at that instance, and they ordered dinner. After the waiter left them alone, Ana changed the subject with, “So, are we going running in the park tomorrow morning?” They had a standing date on Saturday mornings to run in Central Park if both of them were in the city.

“No, I’m sorry, but tomorrow I’ll be driving to Bridgeport for the weekend.” Erik sighed. Some of the people he’d had to negotiate with over the years had made some strange stipulations before signing on the dotted line. However Leo Barone’s invitation to spend the weekend with his family took the prize. Barone owned a shoe factory that Whitaker Enterprises was in the process of purchasing. Barone stated that he wanted to meet the head of Whitaker Enterprises in a social setting before signing over his company, and the people who worked for him, to him. The biggest hitch in the negotiations had been Barone’s concern for his employees once he was no longer their boss.

According to Barone, lawyers were fine for ironing out the legalities. However nothing compared to spending time with a person to get a real feel for what kind of man he was. Erik relayed all of this to Ana after which she responded with a smile, “Do you think he’d mind another guest for the weekend?”

“Of course not,” said Erik, smiling as if that was his plan all along. “I told him I would try to convince my lady friend to accompany me.”

“Is that what I am—your lady friend?” Ana asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You’re a lady and you’re my friend,” Erik replied, playing along.

“Could you drop the ‘friend’ part and refer to me as your lady from now on?” she asked, eyes sparkling with humor.

“As far as I’m concerned you’ve been my lady for quite some time now,” Erik told her, looking into her eyes with sensual intensity. “I was just waiting for you to come to that conclusion.”

“Then remember this date,” Ana told him, “because the wait is over.”

With that, she leaned in and kissed him. Because of where they were Ana held back, even though it took some strength to do so. Erik’s mouth was one of the things she liked best about him. His lips were beautifully formed, and when he smiled, showing those even white teeth, she got all jittery inside. Each time she gave him a peck on the cheek she always entertained the notion of kissing him full on the lips. It had never happened before. Erik respected her wishes to keep things platonic. He’d not even “accidentally” missed her cheek, grazing her mouth—not once.

She glanced at his mouth now and made a vow: this night will not end until I get my fill of those lips!


Chapter 2

“Let me drive!” Ana exclaimed, running her hand along the driver’s side of Erik’s sleek, black Corvette the next morning. Erik couldn’t hold back a laugh her face was so animated with pure delight.

She looked fresh and stylish in jeans, a cotton shirt open at the neck, a thick brown jacket to guard against the cold and brown suede boots. Her thick hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Erik also wore jeans, but had paired them with athletic shoes, an MIT T-shirt, and his favorite black leather jacket.

“I’ve barely had her out on the road myself since I bought her,” he said, chuckling and holding the car keys high above his head out of her reach. Ana pressed her chest to his as she stretched on tiptoe, trying her best to snatch the keys from his grasp.

“Come on, I’ll be good, I promise. No more than, five, ten miles over the speed limit.”

“This is not Europe, and we don’t have an autobahn,” Erik reminded her as he handed over the keys. She had him at a disadvantage. Her close proximity—her breasts against his chest, the subtle erotic, utterly feminine scent she exuded—were causing an all too familiar physical reaction in him. Better to relent and let her drive.

Ana clutched the keys in her hand and let out a whoop. “You choose the music, and let’s roll!”

Erik got in and buckled up. He watched as Ana slid into the driver’s side, automatically adjusted the seat to her proportions, then fastened her seat belt.

She turned and smiled at him as she turned the key in the ignition. He could have sworn she got pleasure from the purring of the engine. He’d never known a woman who loved to drive as much as she did. He had to admit, she was a good driver. Yes, there was that one time when they got pulled over for speeding, but even the officer stated that she hadn’t been driving recklessly, just over the speed limit. He had let her off with a warning.

Ana consulted the GPS and pulled into the early-morning Manhattan traffic. “Tell me more about the Barones.”

Erik was riffling through the CDs. He selected a Howlin’ Wolf album and put it in the CD player. “Well, the business was started by Leo’s grandfather, Alphonse, in the early 1900s. He and his wife, Lucia, were from Salerno, Italy. Leo’s father, Leo, Senior, took over in the sixties and left the business to Leo when he died in the eighties.”

“Doesn’t Leo have any children to leave the business to?” asked Ana. It made no sense to her that Leo would sell the family business, even if he were having financial troubles, when the tradition in the Barone family was for the children to inherit the business. The Corellis’ clothing-manufacturing business was also an inherited family business.

“They had a son, but the boy was killed in a diving accident when he was nineteen.”

“That’s terrible,” said Ana sympathetically.

“They still have a daughter. She’s sixteen now.”

“What a blessing. She doesn’t show any interest in the business?”

“From what I’m told, she’s more into soccer. Her team was the state champs last year.”

“You seem to know a lot about them.”

“I make it my business to know whom I’m dealing with,” Erik said matter-of-factly. “Besides, Leo likes to talk about his family.”

“What about his wife?”

“He met her in Rome when he visited the old country for the first time, is how he put it. It was love at first sight. He learned Italian in order to communicate with her.”

“You mean he’s Italian and didn’t speak Italian?”

“Italian was the language his grandfather spoke, and he never quite mastered. But when he met Teresa she refused to speak English so he had to learn it.”

“Smart woman,” said Ana laughing softly.

“Yes, he later found out she could speak English all along.”

“Very smart woman,” she added as she nodded her head to the beat of the music. “Who is that?”

“Howlin’ Wolf,” Erik told her. “He was known for classic Chicago blues. Like Muddy Waters.”

He knew Ana was slowly working her way through American blues singers. She loved the gutbucket blues the best, the rough-and-ready singers who got under your skin with the emotion in their voices.

“He’s got a gritty, sexy tone to his voice,” she said. “I could listen to him all night.”

Erik grinned, “Are you blushing?”

“No,” she denied, eyes on the road. “Tell me more about him.”

“He was a big guy,” Erik said, “six-six and almost three hundred pounds.”

“He sounds big,” Ana said.

“He and Muddy Waters were rivals. I don’t know why, exactly, but they reportedly didn’t like each other much.”

“Probably a professional rivalry,” Ana suggested. “They competed for jobs, maybe record deals, maybe even women.”

“They probably didn’t have to compete for women. Women love musicians. There were undoubtedly enough to go around.”

“Who knows, maybe they were in love with the same woman,” Ana countered. “Men have feuded over women since the beginning of time. Remember Helen of Troy?”

Erik laughed. “The blues is usually about a broken romance,” he said. “You could be right.”

They talked about the blues and listened to it the entire trip. It was nearly noon when Ana turned onto the long driveway that led to the Barone house, a three-story Tudor-style mansion on the outskirts of Bridgeport. There were three other late-model cars parked on the circular drive.

Ana parked the Corvette and turned off the engine. Shy by nature, she was always a little apprehensive about meeting new people. “Here we are,” she said to Erik hesitantly.

Before they could get out of the car, the Barones, looking relaxed in their casual weekend clothes and warm jackets, came out of the house, welcoming smiles on their faces.

“Oh my God, it is Ana Corelli!” Julianna Barone cried, sprinting to the driver’s side and pulling open the door. “When Daddy said Mr. Whitaker was bringing his lady friend, Ana Corelli, I thought to myself, ‘Not the Ana Corelli!’ But it is you!”

Ana got out and was immediately enveloped in Julianna’s arms. Ana hugged her back. Then they peered into each other’s faces. “It’s good to meet you…” Ana began.

“Julianna. I’m sorry. Where’re my manners?” Juliana said.

“I was wondering that myself,” said Teresa Barone. She was in her early fifties, five-six and curvy with tanned skin. Her dark brown hair was cut short and framed her lovely face nicely.

“This is my mom, Teresa,” said Julianna.

“Welcome to our home,” said Teresa in Italian, having noticed Ana’s accent. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ana.”

Ana smiled, loving the way the language tripped off the other woman’s tongue. It had been a while since anyone other than her family had spoken in Italian to her. She answered in Italian and soon the two of them were speaking rapidly in the language. Teresa took her by the arm and led her inside with Leo, Erik and Julianna following.

“Forgive her,” said Leo to Erik, commenting on the fact that his wife had totally ignored him in favor of Ana. “It isn’t often she meets someone who speaks her native tongue as fluently as she does. It goes to her head. How was your trip?”

Erik told him they’d had a pleasant drive. He looked around him, at the beautiful house and acres of greenery. “Is that a stable?” he asked about the outlying building east of the house.

“It is,” Leo told him. He shaded his eyes with a hand as he looked across the field at the well-kept stables. “In good weather, Teresa and I ride every day. We’re trying to interest Julianna.”

“But I’m scared of horses,” Julianna finished for her father. She smiled up at Erik. She was taller than her mother, but had the same chestnut hair. However hers was long and fell nearly to her waist in waves. Her complexion was also somewhere between her mother’s dark skin and her father’s fairer skin. She and her father were nearly the same height at around five-nine.

She and Leo stood aside as Erik retrieved his and Ana’s luggage from the car’s trunk.

“Yes, well, I’ve never gotten used to them myself,” Erik told her. “My father raises horses. These days he calls himself a gentleman farmer, and horses are one of his obsessions.”

“Finally,” Julianna said, “someone else who doesn’t think horses are the noble beasts my parents think they are. Those things are big! They’ve got hard hooves and they bite!”

“They don’t bite,” Leo said, chuckling. “Well, I’ve never been bitten by one, anyway.”

“You’ve been lucky,” his daughter said.

Leo suggested they put the luggage in the foyer closet until after lunch.

By the time they got into the kitchen where Teresa had led Ana, the two women were already putting lunch on the table while chattering away.

Teresa looked up at her husband when they came into the room. “Ana tells me that her mother is Natalie Davis-Corelli. Do you remember we saw her onstage in Rome over twenty-five years ago?”

“I do,” said Leo. He regarded Ana with an amazed look on his face. “I didn’t care much for opera at that time. It was your mother who changed that for me. I’d never heard a voice so pure, so clear, or so emotional. Is she still singing?”

“She performs on special occasions,” Ana told him, “but mostly she teaches voice lessons.”

After years of singing, she gets a lot of joy out of helping other singers reach their full potential.

Leo, Erik and Julianna sat on stools around the granite-topped island in the middle of the large stylish kitchen while Teresa and Ana put the dishes Teresa had prepared earlier in the center of the island. The smells to Ana were reminiscent of home.

“You come from a family of musicians,” Leo said to Ana. He smiled at his wife. “Being married to an opera expert, I’ve picked up a little knowledge over the years.” He returned his attention to Ana. “If your mother is Natalie Davis-Corelli that means your grandmother was Renata Corelli.”

“Yes,” Ana said, pleased to know he knew of her grandmother who had died several years ago and was still sorely missed.

“I never saw her perform live,” Leo said regrettably. “But I’ve seen her in films. She was amazing.”

Ana couldn’t think of her grandmother without getting a little choked up. She swallowed a lump in her throat, and softly said, “She was happiest when she was performing.”

Leo continued, excitedly. “No wonder your brother is a composer, his mother and his grandmother—two world-renowned singers. It was in his blood. What about you, do you have musical talent?”

Ana laughed shortly. “Not a bit. Musical talent skipped me and my sister, Sophia. Neither of us can carry a tune. Or play an instrument with any proficiency. We went into fashion, like our father. Sophia works with him in his clothing business and I became a model.”

“You sound so modest,” Teresa said, smiling warmly. “You did more than just became a model. You’re very successful at it.”

“I’ve been lucky,” Ana admitted.

“And very hard-working,” Erik put in fondly.

“There’s no substitution for hard work,” Leo said. He gave his daughter a meaningful look. “That’s what I’ve been trying to drive home with our soccer fanatic here. You have to burn the midnight oil to get anywhere.”

“We were state champs this year,” Julianna said a bit defensively.

“Yes, but a girl can’t live by soccer alone,” her father countered. “In order to get into a good college, you’ll need more than just a good athletic record. You’re too single minded. What about academics and other extracurricular activities? You have to be well-rounded.”

“Ana was single-minded in her career,” Julianna pointed out. “If she hadn’t been focused on becoming the best model she could be, she wouldn’t be where she is today.”

“Ana?” Leo said, obviously looking for an ally in this argument. “Tell us, please, is that true?”

“My parents insisted I get a college degree,” Ana told Julianna. “I have a bachelor’s degree in business. And I’ve been taking art classes for years.”

“See?” cried Teresa. “Beauty and brains!”

“That is so cool,” said Julianna. “Don’t take this the wrong way but I always thought of models as self-absorbed airheads.”

“You can find self-absorbed airheads in any career,” Ana said, to which everyone laughed.

They all sat down and soon were enjoying a lunch of Teresa’s native southern Italian cuisine—a seafood soup with fresh tomatoes and savory herbs, hot crusty bread and peach gelato for dessert.

“You’re a great cook,” Ana said to Teresa. “This soup reminds me of my father’s seafood soup.”

“That’s why I married her,” Leo said cheerfully.

Teresa, who was sitting beside her husband, reached over and tousled his too-long dark hair. He was graying at the temples, which gave him a sexy, rugged appearance as far as she was concerned. She adored him and it was reflected in the way her eyes caressed his face. “One of the reasons, anyway,” she said, then winked at him.

“Behave,” their daughter said with a laugh. “We’ve got company.” Then she turned to Erik and said, “Mr. Whitaker, Dad says you want to buy the family business. I searched your company on Google and found out you’ve bought several companies that were having problems.”

“I don’t think this is the time to discuss business,” Leo said abruptly, obviously surprised by his daughter’s comment.

“Dad, isn’t that why you invited Mr. Whitaker and Ana here this weekend?”

“Please, call me Erik,” said Erik with a smile.

“What I wanted to say,” Julianna continued calmly, “is that if Dad is going to sell the family business, I hope it’s to a company like yours. You’re environmentally responsible. You have a good record when it comes to keeping the employees who’re dependent on the companies you acquire to make a living.” She regarded her father. “I know you’re worried about that, Dad. That’s why I decided to do a little research. Not that you haven’t already done that, but I wanted to reassure myself. I know you think I don’t have any interest in the business, but I do. I keep my ears and eyes open.”

Leo looked at her with such pride that, seeing his expression, Teresa got emotional and had to wipe a tear away. “My baby,” she said in a whisper.

“Dad, I’m sorry if it seems I’m being disrespectful, I don’t mean to. But if you remember, I’ve tried to talk to you about the business for weeks now and you always tell me not to worry about it.”

Leo didn’t know what to say. He thought Julianna lived in her own world of soccer, her friends and the internet, in that order. That she had made an effort to find out what sort of company Whitaker Enterprises was made him wonder if perhaps he’d been too quick to call it a day where the company was concerned. Maybe there was a Barone who looked forward to running it one day. If he redoubled his efforts there was a possibility that with an infusion of new ideas, and investors, the Barone Shoe Company, whose slogan had always been Quality Italian Shoes Made in America, could remain in the family.

“I’m listening,” he said to his daughter.

“Before you sell the family business,” Julianna said, “I just want to make sure that’s what you really want to do, or is it because Leo, Jr.’s in heaven and you don’t think a woman could run the company after you retire?” She was all seriousness, her gaze unwavering. “Or maybe there’s something you’re not telling me—like you’re sick and that’s why you’re selling the company and retiring at sixty.”

Leo got up and pulled his daughter into his arms. “No, sweetheart, no to both of your questions,” he said. “I know that if you put your mind to it, you’re capable of anything. I just didn’t know you were interested in working with me. And I’m as healthy as a horse!”

Julianna laughed. “You know I don’t like horses.”

“Okay, I’m as healthy as David Beckham,” said Leo.

“That’s better,” said Julianna.

“Let’s sit,” said Leo. Once they were both seated, Leo turned to Erik. “It looks like we have a lot to talk about this weekend, after all. I was ready to sign, but now I’m having sudden misgivings.”

Erik had been listening with interest. This wasn’t the first time a deal had come this close to being finalized and had fallen through…if that’s where this was going. He had learned to roll with the punches. “I’m sure we can work something out that will be agreeable to both of us. We’re not in the business of trying to force anyone to sell. We only approached you because you had decided that selling might be an option out of your financial crunch. However we’re willing to work with you. If you want to remain the company’s CEO and train Julianna to eventually replace you with us as an investor, you can go that way. It’s your decision. We like Barone Shoes and we think you can once again be a major competitor in the shoe market.”

Leo regarded his wife. “Do you think we can postpone our months-long tour of Italy a few more years until Julianna’s ready to assume control of the business?”

Teresa in turn regarded Julianna. “Baby, you’re only sixteen. How can you be so sure you want to run the business one day?”

“Because it’s my family,” Julianna said firmly. “I’m a Barone. Like Grandpa and Dad before me. Plus, I feel a connection with Leo, Jr.—as if we’d be doing it together. I know I never knew him, but I love him anyway.”

Teresa had tears in her eyes when she told her husband, “Okay, I can wait a few years. Give her a chance.”

“Let’s talk about taking you all on as investors,” Leo said to Erik and offered him his hand across the table. Erik took it and firmly shook it.

“I’m sure we can work something out,” Erik agreed.

After lunch, Erik and Leo, went into the family library and hammered out a deal that would give Whitaker Enterprises a quarter interest in Barone Shoes in exchange for a healthy loan. Erik felt confident that Whitaker Enterprises had made a good investment. And Leo felt he could trust Whitaker Enterprises to support them, but not interfere in the day-to-day running of Barone Shoes. However, Erik made one stipulation: Barone Shoes had to submit to Whitaker Enterprises’ efficiency experts and accountants in order to insure that the company was being run in the black from now on. Whitaker Enterprises didn’t invest in a losing proposition. They wouldn’t be the powerhouse they were today if they did. Leo wholeheartedly agreed.

The two men stood and shook on it. “Since that’s settled, Ana and I should be getting back on the road,” Erik said.

“No, please stay the night,” Leo said. He grinned. “We had planned a party for you tonight and invited some of the employees so they could meet you, the new owner. Now they can meet the new investor. Stay, won’t you?”

Erik would like nothing better than to spend the rest of the day and the weekend with Ana. After last night, he was looking forward to some alone time with her. However, Ana had been promised a weekend in Connecticut and he hated disappointing her. Plus, it might be a good idea to meet some of Leo’s employees. “All right,” he said. “I’d like that.”


Chapter 3

“Are you disappointed things didn’t turn out as you thought they would?” Ana asked Erik when they were alone on the common balcony of the guestrooms Teresa had shown them to after Erik’s talk with Leo. Earlier Teresa had discreetly asked Ana if she and Erik wanted to share a room and Ana had told her their relationship hadn’t advanced that far yet, to which Teresa had smiled and said, “How refreshing.”

“It’s never wise to anticipate the outcome of a deal,” Erik said, his smile denoting he wasn’t that broken up about it. He closed the space between them and pulled her into his arms. Ana smiled up at him and said, “It’s cold out here.” She snuggled closer and breathed in the enticing male scent of him, which was like an aphrodisiac to her senses. Looking into his eyes, she said, “If I’ve appeared a bit distant all day, it’s because I can’t forget that kiss last night.”

He’d taken her home after dinner and had come in for coffee. Among the things they had in common was an addiction to caffeine. Neither was bothered by sleeplessness if they indulged before bed. Ana had gone into the kitchen of her loft to make the coffee and Erik, as he often did, followed her. While she was tiptoeing to reach the container of beans on the top shelf of the cabinet, he was admiring her backside. Ana turned around and caught him looking. “Is that something you do often or is it a new development?” she asked playfully.

“It’s pretty much a habit,” Erik confessed.

Ana set the container on the counter and faced him, her expression aghast. “You mean to tell me that for the last three years you’ve been looking at my bottom without my knowledge?”

“Oh, I think you knew,” Erik said as he slipped his arm about her waist and pressed her to his muscular chest, smiling all the while. He lowered his head and inhaled her unique fragrance. She’d noticed that he liked doing that, as though the smell of her skin gave him sensual pleasure. It turned her on, too.

Her body immediately reacted to his. Her nipples grew hard, and she became moist between her legs. It was a heady, all-too-erotic sensation that was so delicious she let out a soft sigh. She looked at his lips. He was smiling and his white teeth, coupled with those juicy lips, looked so inviting that she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Erik didn’t need any further provocation. Her lips were soft and her mouth so sweet that before he knew it he had lifted her body and her legs wrapped around him in a bid to get even closer. Their tongues danced gently at first and found the encounter so pleasing that the kiss deepened and soon they were both sounding as though they were consuming something extremely tasty as, no doubt, they were. Erik, as the one who had most of the physical strength between them, knew that he had to back off before things got out of hand. Ana wasn’t ready for things to go any further than a kiss but it was their first real kiss and, heaven help him, if her kisses were this good, what would sex be like with her?

It was Ana who came up for air first and looked him in the eyes. She pressed her cheek to his. “Why haven’t you kissed me before now?”

“I’ve been a fool,” Erik said, and kissed her again.

Ana pulled his shirt out of his waistband so that she could run her hands over his hot skin. Another new experience since friends didn’t routinely touch one another’s naked bodies. Her feverish mind thought back. Yes, she’d seen Erik in a swimsuit on a couple occasions. Once when they had flown to Barbados for the weekend with his sister, Belana, and her husband, Nick, and another time when they’d taken a dip in the pool at his parents’ house in Connecticut. He was in great shape. Cut from all the running and weightlifting he did on a daily basis. Ana was not nearly as disciplined. She liked running with Erik on Saturday mornings, but walking was more her taste. All this was going through her mind while the man of her dreams was kissing her, and she thought she must be neurotic to be thinking of anything other than the taste of his mouth and the warm, solid feel of his body touching hers. It was fear of change that stood in the way of her truly enjoying Erik.

What would she do if he made love to her and lost interest, just as that actor who would remain nameless had done? It would kill her—she realized at that instant in her kitchen, she adored this man. She loved him in a way she had never thought to love a man, completely. Until Erik she thought of men as enigmas whom women were doomed to never fully understand. However Erik had proved that theory a lie. She understood him. She knew, for example, that even though he denied it he had an abandonment issue with his mother. It’s true that his mother had come back into his life briefly last year, but by that time the damage had been done. And she wasn’t in his life long before she revealed she had a terminal illness. Only weeks later she had died with all her children holding her hands, the very children she had walked away from. No one came away from that without emotional scarring.

Erik had never let himself get close to anyone before Ana. He jokingly said it was because he’d just never found the right woman. Ana believed it was because he was afraid of being abandoned yet again by a woman he loved. This, Ana, thought last night in her kitchen, put a great deal of pressure on her. She would never dream of hurting him, but what if she did hurt him in spite of every effort not to? She was only human.

It was soon after this thought ran through her mind that Erik had tipped her chin toward him and said, “Let’s not waste any more time than we already have. I love you, Ana. I believe I’ve loved you since the first time we met.”

Tears instantly sprang to Ana’s eyes. “I love you, too!” She hugged him tightly. “I love you so much that I’m afraid of my feelings for you.”

He kissed her forehead. “Afraid? What do you mean?”

“What we have is perfect in a sense. You’re my best friend, the person I confide in, aside from my own family. What if that changes? What if becoming lovers changes us?”

Erik laughed. “If anything it’ll enhance how we already feel about each other.” He became somber. “It’s that actor, isn’t it? The one who broke your heart after you’d slept with him? Ana, you’re not guilty of doing anything to warrant his behavior. Some men are bastards and will always be bastards. He’s one of them. I’m sure you’re not the only woman he’s treated that way.”

“Maybe I’m not good in bed,” Ana said miserably.

Erik held her by the shoulders and looked deeply in her eyes. “That’s the most ludicrous statement I’ve ever heard.” He smiled as he pulled her into his arms. “One day, my sweet Ana, you and I are going to make love, and you’re going to know without a doubt that you are very, very good in bed and maybe the couch, the kitchen table and the shower, too.”

Ana laughed and cried. “Someday? Why not this day, this night?”

“Because sex for the first time is an event,” Erik said. “It’ll be remembered forever and you don’t want to mess with forever. We’ve waited this long, we can wait awhile longer.”

Now, as they stood in each other’s arms on the Barone’s balcony, Ana gazed up at him and said, “It’s just as well we didn’t make love last night because I would want you again tonight and it would be awkward making love under the Barones’ roof.”

“We’d be very quiet,” Erik joked.

“I doubt it,” Ana countered.

* * *

Later, at the party, Erik spent most of the time fielding questions from Leo Barone’s employees who wanted to know more about Whitaker Enterprises. It was apparent to him that they were grateful to be retaining their jobs in these hard economic times. So many people were out of jobs and finding it difficult to find another. They almost made him feel like some kind of hero for offering assistance to Barone Shoes, a feeling he fervently declined.

“I should be thanking you,” he told them. “Leo has built a wonderful business and you’ve contributed to the quality of the product he produces. Without loyal, hardworking employees, no business would survive. Or be able to build a reputation investors like myself notice when we’re looking to invest in someone.”

Leo had stepped up and said, “That’s a long way of saying he wouldn’t have been interested if we didn’t make a quality product.”

Everyone laughed, but Erik was happy he’d gotten his point across and from that moment on during the evening, business was not discussed. The topics stayed on golf and sports teams.

Meanwhile in another section of the great room, the women and children were gathered around Ana who was quickly making sketches of the children in charcoal. She didn’t go anywhere without her sketch pad and the children were taking great delight in her swift manner of drawing their likenesses. Since it was only a few days from Halloween, Teresa had suggested that the children come in costumes and, now, Ana was drawing the image of a six-year-old African-American girl dressed as a fairy princess. The mother of the little girl stood behind Ana on one side, and Julianna stood on the other.

“You’re very good,” the mother said, smiling broadly. “You even captured the mischievous expression in Nikki’s eyes.”

Julianna laughed. “That’s our Nikki to a T.” She had babysat Nikki on occasion and knew the little girl was a handful.

Ana, sitting on a straight-backed chair directly in front of Nikki, smiled warmly. “She’s adorable.”

Finished with Nikki’s portrait, she handed the finished product to Nikki’s mother. Nikki climbed off her chair and spontaneously kissed Ana on the cheek. “Thank you,” she said.

“Well,” Ana said, laughing softly. “That’s the first time I’ve ever been paid in kisses for my work. Thank you, Nikki.”

With Nikki’s portrait, Ana had drawn all four children who had attended the party with their parents. Not to be outdone, Teresa asked sweetly, “Would you draw my baby now?”

Julianna immediately took umbrage with being called a baby. “Mother, I’m not a baby!”

“You’re my baby, and always will be. Get used to it,” Teresa returned. “Now sit down and let Ana draw you. It’s not every day that you get to have your picture drawn by an artist of her caliber.” She smiled at Ana. “Don’t you dare forget to phone and tell me when and where your show is going to take place.”

“I won’t,” Ana promised. She met Julianna’s gaze.

Julianna grinned and sat down. Then she crossed her eyes. “Will this do?”

Ana laughed. “Sure if that’s how you want to be remembered.”

Julianna uncrossed her eyes and gave Ana a genuine smile. “You’re sneaky. I like that.”

The men wandered over and stood admiring the sketch as it formed on Ana’s pad. Leo joked, “Give her horns. I swear she’s a little devil sometimes.”

Teresa playfully hit Leo on the backside. “If anyone’s a little devil in this family, it’s you.”

Erik stood back and watched Ana, how easily she was handling being the center of attention even though she insisted she was shy. Whether it was on the runway or in a room full of children, she always seemed comfortable in her own skin to him.

When Ana finished the portrait Julianna held it in her hands, admiring it. “You even managed to make me pretty,” she said in awe.

“I just drew what I saw,” Ana said truthfully.

Teresa took the drawing from Julianna. “This is going in a place of honor.” She bent and kissed Ana on the cheek. “Thank you, Ana.” She had to wipe away a tear.

Leo, feeling things were getting maudlin, bellowed, “The night’s still young. Who’s up for some virtual golf?”

The men were all for that, and once again the guests were divided by sex with the men heading downstairs to the finished basement where Leo’s entertainment center was set up.

Teresa led the women to the kitchen where they indulged in coffee and delicious desserts the caterer had provided for the party. The children were in their own special heaven in the den playing video games.

Ana sat between two women in their thirties, one African-American, the other a blonde with dark roots who kept gazing at Ana as if she wanted to ask her something but couldn’t muster up the nerve to do so. Ana smiled at her and said, “Your husband is the plant’s manager, right?”

They’d all introduced themselves earlier. Ana recalled her husband—a tall, heavyset fellow with a ruddy complexion—was very tender with their son who looked about three.

“Yeah, Ben,” said the woman. “And I’m Sasha.”

“Your son’s so sweet. I have a niece his age. She lives in Italy. I miss her so much.”

“What’s her name?”

“Ari…Ariana,” said Ana. “Now she has a baby brother and she’s having a hard time getting used to him. She told her mom to take him back to the hospital and trade him in for a puppy.”

The other women who had been listening to their conversation laughed.

“Yes, older kids do sometimes take a while to get used to a new addition,” Teresa said after swallowing a mouthful of pecan pie. “When Julianna was three months old Leo, Jr. once wrapped her in a blanket and left her on a neighbor’s doorstep. Luckily we were living in a close-knit neighborhood at that time, and the neighbors saw him do it and immediately phoned me. He only got away with it because Leo was at work and I was in the shower. Of course when Leo, Jr. got older he absolutely loved his sister and doted on her. Or maybe it was guilt that made him so protective of her later on.” She laughed, remembering her son fondly. “Julianna adored him from birth. She would follow him around like a lost puppy looking for a scrap of food.”

Ana supposed the woman who went and pulled Teresa into her arms for a firm hug was an old friend. A sympathetic and knowing look passed between them and the woman said, “He adored her. You could see it every time you saw them together.”

“Yes,” another woman agreed.

Soon others were relating Leo, Jr. stories. It was obvious to Ana that the employees of Barone Shoes were more than employees to the Barones, they were old friends. It made her feel happy that Leo had decided not to sell the company after all.

* * *

On Sunday Ana and Erik got back to the city in the early afternoon. After dropping Ana off at her loft and making plans to meet for dinner later, Erik continued on to his apartment.

When Erik walked into this apartment, bags in hand, he dropped them in the foyer and walked back to the kitchen to get a bottle of water from the fridge. After drinking quickly he turned and went into the home office. The blinking light of the answering machine on the desk was like a beacon to him. Only his friends and family used his home phone number. Business calls went straight to his cell phone. He liked keeping them separate because on weekends, he ignored the office. He would never, however, ignore his friends and family.

He listened to the first message. It was his father, John. He began with a tired sigh, so Erik instinctively knew the message would be about his grandmother, Drusilla. No one could get under his father’s skin quite like his grandmother. “Hey, son, your grandmother took another tumble today. She’s so hardheaded. We keep telling her to use her cane but she insists she doesn’t need it every day, just when, and these are her words, ‘I’m feeling wobbly.’” John sighed heavily again. “It’s Friday night and they’re keeping her in the hospital overnight for observation. A fall can be dangerous for an eighty-two-year-old.”

Let her be all right, Erik prayed as he continued listening.

“No need to come home, though,” his father said. “She’s fine. It’s my nerves that are frayed.” He laughed. “Thank God for Izzie. She remained calm and handled everything with her usual quiet efficiency.” Izzie was Isobel, Erik’s stepmother. She and his father had been married for three years and still behaved like newlyweds. Erik loved and admired her for how happy she’d made his father, who deserved a little happiness after all the heartache he’d experienced when Mari had left him for a French choreographer.

He dialed the house in New Haven, Connecticut and waited. Isobel answered with, “Hi, sweetie. I hope John’s message didn’t upset you. Dru’s back home and is doing well. How’re you?”

Erik smiled. Isobel rarely answered with hello. She anticipated your needs and got right into the conversation. “I’m fine, Mom, and how are you?” Both he and Belana referred to Isobel as “Mom.” They’d known her for years before she and their father had fallen in love and gotten married. She was the mother of one of Belana’s best friends, Elle, and consequently they were part of the same social circle. What’s more, Isobel, as far as Belana and Erik were concerned, had earned the title of “Mom” since she loved them like her own even though they were not related by blood.

He could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “Just great. We’re all sitting around the kitchen table having lunch. Would you like to speak with your father or Drusilla?”

“Put Her Majesty on, please.”

When Drusilla got on the phone he could hear her clearing her throat. “Where are you that you can’t come see about your poor old grandmother?”

“Who would that be?” Erik asked, “Because you are apparently as young and spry as ever! I’m told you don’t think you need to use your cane anymore. Is that right?”

“It makes me look old and decrepit.”

“You’re too vain. What would you prefer? To look your age, or break a hip, or worse?” he asked, being careful not to raise his voice.

“I’d rather look good,” was Drusilla’s petulant reply. “What does it matter if I go out with a broken hip or not? The Grim Reaper has my number. I should have the right to choose how I live the rest of my life. After more than eighty years, I’ve earned it!”

Erik sighed. She had a point. Eighty-two years on earth should allow her certain privileges. He’d have to guilt her into behaving herself.

“Yes, you’ve earned the right to flip off the Grim Reaper if you want to. But, while you’re tempting fate, what about the rest of us who would like to have you around a bit longer? What about Dad and Belana? What about those great-grandchildren you’re always urging Belana and me to have? And hurry up about it, too? Shouldn’t they get the honor of having you as a cantankerous great-grandma? What do you say to that?”

“You should’ve been a lawyer,” Drusilla groused. She laughed. “Okay, I’ll use the damn cane from now on.”

“Language!” Erik heard his dad admonish his grandmother before bursting into laughter himself. His dad must have taken the phone from his grandmother. “Okay, son, whatever you said seems to have worked. She looks dutifully repentant, for now.”

Erik couldn’t help laughing. Both he and his father knew it was only a matter of time before Drusilla found another outlet for her indefatigable spirit to get her into trouble.

“By the way, Dad, Ana and I are dating,” Eric said after he’d gotten his laughter under control.

With his usual aplomb, John said without missing a beat, “Haven’t you always been dating?”

“Technically, we were just friends.”

“Seriously?” said John. “For two years you and Ana have been platonic friends?” He sounded so disbelieving that Erik started laughing again.

“Yes, seriously,” he assured his father.

“I know you said you were just friends, but I never imagined that two young, healthy people like you and Ana were actually keeping your hands to yourselves. Son, I was just happy you had someone like Ana in your life. Mother, will you stop that!”

Drusilla said hastily, “It’s about damn time!” Then she was gone.

John, sounding exasperated, said, “That’s wonderful news. Now I’ve got to go, your grandmother’s has had too much excitement for one day.”

Erik hung up the phone and listened to the remaining messages on the machine. None were pressing, so he wandered into this bedroom and began changing his clothes. He felt restless and a long jog would go a long way in relaxing him and focusing his mind. His father’s reaction to the news of him and Ana dating made him wonder if the rest of his family believed the two of them had been more than friends all the time.

Wasn’t it possible for a man and a woman to be just friends? Surely he’d proven they could. Then again, even if his behavior had been above reproach, his thoughts definitely hadn’t been. Not being able to express his feelings for Ana in a sexual way had made him very resourceful. Running helped, as did staying extremely busy. Now that they’d admitted their feelings for each other, and sex was sure to follow, he hoped he’d be able to make love to Ana without scaring the poor girl by howling like a beast or something else equally embarrassing. He was only a man.

Running clothes and shoes on, he grabbed the apartment key he kept in the foyer table on the way out the door. I hope Ana isn’t overanalyzing everything like I am, he thought as he closed the door behind him.


Chapter 4

“I’m freaking out!” Ana cried, trying to control the panic in her voice. Her sister, Sophia, in Milan was half asleep. She usually slept in on Sunday and it was still quite early in her part of the world.

Ana was lying in bed with her back against the headboard and her long legs stretched out. Sophia was under the covers with her husband, Matteo, who was snugly pressed against her backside, gently snoring. It would take more than the shrill ringing of a phone to wake him.

Sophia yawned before replying, “Yes, I do detect a little freaking out on your part,” she said. “But that’s to be expected since you’ve let a guy as hot as Erik slip through your fingers for as long as you have. I was beginning to doubt your sanity.”

That comment made Ana smile. Leave it to her practical sister to point out the obvious. “It’s not like I’m jumping into bed with every man who shows interest,” she said in her defense. “You know how inexperienced I am.”

“I know your only experience was a negative one and you’re not going to fully appreciate how truly bad it was until you have a good encounter with a man who knows what he’s doing in bed. Then, what Jack Russo did to you will feel like a slight glitch in your very satisfying love life. Oh, sorry, we aren’t supposed to be saying his name. Jack Russo, Jack Russo, Jack Russo. By saying his name you take some of the power out of it. You know the only reason he dropped you was because he had that actress waiting in the wings and she had more money and clout than you. I hate it when bastards like that just run over a woman’s feelings. You know, if I had been anywhere in the vicinity he would be missing his most vital organ right now.”

Ana giggled. “Matteo must be sleeping very hard not to react to that comment.”

Sophia giggled, too. “Yeah, he’s out. Your nephew had both of us up late last night.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for interrupting your much needed rest. What was wrong with my nephew?”

“Teething,” said Sophia. “Breast-feeding is becoming dangerous.”

Ana sighed sympathetically. “Thinking of switching him to a bottle?”

“I’m going to have to,” said Sophia. “Besides, according to his doctor he’s gotten all the good nutrients from breast milk that he needs at six months.”

Remembering the conversation about firstborns not accepting new sisters and brothers, Ana said, “How is Renata handling being a big sister?”

“She loves him, calls him her baby,” said Sophia. She yawned again.

“Look, I’d better let you go,” said Ana. “I just wanted to hear a calm voice.”

“And you called me?” joked Sophia. “Mom is the only one with a calm voice in this family.”

“Don’t mention our conversation to them, okay? I’ll tell them when the time’s right.”

“You are coming home for Christmas?” asked Sophia.

Ana always went home for Christmas, which was celebrated with all the trimmings by the Corellis.

“I don’t know yet,” Ana said truthfully. “With these new developments in my life I might want to go somewhere romantic with my man.” The thought excited her. “I’ll have to let you know.”





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