looked sexy—that was a quirk of nature—but she was still inexperienced and naive. A guy could tell that sort of thing.
Experienced or not, she was off-limits.
He gave the elevator down button another impatient jab and then wished he could recall the asinine gesture. No sense in hurrying back to temptation. Not that he’d act on any of his impulses. Unless he wanted to get his ass fired.
The elevator doors opened and as soon as he got in, the car shot down to the first floor as if it were a friggin’ express. The doorman was talking to someone, so Mike perused the building’s notice board. There was an ad for a dog-walking service and beside it, was a flyer for massage therapy. In the top corner was a picture of the busty blond masseuse. And she made house calls.
Mike groaned. He wasn’t that desperate. Was he?
GINA BEGAN UNPACKING the clothes her mother had insisted she bring. Those things she shoved in the closet, unconcerned about the wrinkles. She would only need them when she dined with Uncle Antonio or visited with him in the apartment. The rest of the time she would wear the clothes she had made herself or had bought with the allowance her mother had sent her while she was at school.
Carefully she unrolled the cropped T-shirts, Capri leggings and miniskirts she’d hidden beneath her assorted underwear. One dress in particular she shook out and then laid across the bed. It had wrinkled during the trip, but the material was stretchy, and once it was on her body, it would be so tight she would not have to worry about ironing it.
She kicked off her shoes and knelt on the floor to root through her second suitcase. Two pairs of strappy sandals had been hidden among her toiletries. She fished them out, along with the red nail polish for her toes.
Not even a sliver of guilt dampened her excitement. She was tired of wearing ugly dresses and having to act like an old woman. None of the other girls at boarding school or the all-girl university she had attended had parents as strict as hers.
And for what? She had been a good girl, studying hard, getting good grades, staying away from the boys who hung around outside the school’s stone wall. She had not gotten into trouble like some of the other girls, or at least nothing that her parents knew about. The two times Gina had made the sisters angry by staying out past curfew, she had been able to talk them into not writing her parents a report.
She pulled off the dreadful black dress, wadded it into a ball and threw it on the closet floor. She would not need it until her flight home. Just the thought of having to return to Tuscany to plan her wedding depressed her. She quickly chose an outfit that would lift her mood, and then sat on the floor and shook the bottle of red polish.
The scandalous color made her heart race so fast that her hands shook. She had to keep stopping to wipe the excess polish off the brush so that she did not make a mess of her toes. While letting the first coat dry, she leaned back, her arms outstretched for support, her legs straight out in front of her so she could admire her work. She wiggled her toes and was pleased when the light reflected off the shiny gloss.
She hoped Mike was not growing impatient. The thought of him made her smile. He was tall and handsome and she liked the way he smelled, too. Fresh and clean, like pine trees washed by the rain.
She wished the girls back at school could see him. They would all be jealous. Especially Maria Scalia, the nasty witch, who had nicknamed Gina Virgin Mary, as if Maria knew all about sex. How Gina would love to see her mouth drop at the sight of Mike and his beautiful green eyes.
She slumped back against the bed and pictured herself casually mentioning to her graduating class how Mike would be her personal escort for an entire month. Of course she would refer to him as Michael. That name suited him better.
The fantasy made her smile as she applied the second coat of polish. She wondered what Mike would say when she told him she wanted to lose her virginity.
With him.
THREE-THIRTY AND STILL no sign of her. Mike began to wonder if she’d fallen asleep. Not that he’d knock on her door to find out. The longer she stayed in her room, the better for him. He lifted the phone to return another call he’d picked up from his voice mail.
In the short time since he’d gone to lunch and arrived at Antonio’s apartment, four messages had been left for him. What the hell would happen when he was out of the office for most of the month? This was going to be a disaster.
Robert wouldn’t be leaving for vacation for three more days. He’d have to step in and entertain his cousin. Melanie or Melody or whoever his newest love interest was would just have to wait until the cruise for his undivided attention.
His last call returned, Mike hung up the phone and heard a door click. He glanced over his shoulder down the hall but saw no sign of Gina. Relief and disappointment washed over him in alternate waves. Part of him wished she’d stay out of his face for a while and give him a chance to regroup. The other part of him wanted to get lost in her seductive eyes.
It was the accent, he told himself. That’s what turned him on. His first major crush had been on his French teacher. He’d been thirteen and she had probably been in her early thirties. She was pretty enough, but it was her accent that had him reaching under the covers at night.
He sat at Antonio’s desk and flipped on the computer. He was surprised his boss even knew how to use a computer, much less have one at home. At Mike’s touch, dust flew off the keyboard, and he shook his head. He should’ve figured Antonio didn’t actually use it. Knowing him, he probably thought it made him look in touch with the business.
He had only two new e-mails to answer and had just finished signing off when he heard Gina clear her throat. Taking a deep breath and wondering what the hell he should do with her now, he pushed back from the desk.
He turned toward the doorway and his jaw went slack. His mouth opened. Nothing came out.
“You like?” she asked, skimming her hands down the sides of a red dress that fit like a second skin. Her long thick hair was down. Dark and glossy with chestnut-colored streaks, it reached just past her shoulders.
She had put on makeup, not a lot, but enough to accentuate her eyes and cheekbones. Before she was pretty; now she was a stunner.
“Mike?” Worry lines formed between her brows.
“Um…” He had to say something eventually—when his mouth worked. Instead, he made the mistake of checking out her dress again. Made of some type of stretchy material, it left no doubt where every curve started and ended. The neckline wasn’t too low, but Gina’s breasts were so full that…
“You’re not going out like that.”
She frowned, her red-tinted lips forming that sexy pout again. “Why not?”
“Why not?” His gaze automatically ran down her body. If her dress was two inches shorter… “Because women don’t dress like that here.” Most of them couldn’t get away with it—and look that good.
“Yes, they do.”
“Not in the daytime.”
Gina folded her arms across her chest, pushing everything into the right place, and Mike had to look away quickly. “I have seen them.”
“You’ve been to New York before?”
She
