the death of his family five years before, Adam had pretty much been a recluse. He’d shut himself away from everything but his ranch and his brothers. So why all of a sudden was he Mr. Charm? A tiny nugget of suspicion settled in the pit of her stomach, but it didn’t do a thing to ease the thumping of her heart.
“What about Serenity?”
Ah. The almost impossible to get into place on the coast. He really was pulling out all the stops.
“Sounds good,” she said, even though what she really meant was, sounds fabulous, can’t wait, what took you so long?
“Tomorrow night? Seven?”
“Okay. Seven.” The moment she agreed, she saw satisfaction glitter in his dark-chocolate eyes and the suspicion crowding her jumped up in her brain and started waving hands, trying to get her attention. Well, it worked. “Though I really would like to know what actually prompted this out-of-nowhere invitation.”
His features tightened briefly, but a moment later, he gave her a small smile again. “If you’re not interested, Gina, all you have to do is say no.”
“I didn’t say that.” She pulled her hands from her pockets and folded her arms across her chest.
“Glad to hear it,” he said and reached for one of her hands, holding it in his, smoothing his thumb gently across her skin. He looked into her eyes, gave her a small smile and said, “So, I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow? You can tell me all about what you’ve been up to for the last five years.”
When he let go of her hand, Gina could have sworn she could actually smell her skin sizzling from the heat he’d generated. Oh, she was sliding into some seriously deep waters here.
Adam was charming. Friendly. Smiley. Flirty.
Something was definitely going on here. Something he wasn’t telling her. And still, she wouldn’t turn down this invitation for anything.
“I’ll be ready.”
“See you then.” With one last smile, he turned around and walked with determined steps across the yard to the SUV he’d left parked near the house.
Gina stood stock-still to enjoy the view. His excellent butt looked great in the dark blue jeans. His long legs moved with a deceptively lazy stride and the sun hit his dark brown hair and gleamed in its depths.
Her heart actually fluttered in her chest. Weird sensation. And not a good sign. “Oh, Gina,” she whispered, “you are in very deep trouble, here.”
Just being that close to Adam, having him focusing his attention on her, had been enough to stir up all of the old fantasies and dreams. She felt shaky, like the time she’d had three espresso drinks in an hour. Only Adam King was a way bigger buzz than too much caffeine.
Her breath left her in a rush as Adam steered his car down the driveway and away from the ranch. She rubbed the spot on her hand where Adam had touched her. When the cloud of dust behind his car had settled back down onto the driveway, Gina thoughtfully turned her gaze on the house behind her. Adam might not be willing to tell her what was going on, but she had a bone-deep feeling that her father had the answers she needed.
“I can’t believe it,” Gina muttered, stalking around the perimeter of the great room. She must have made thirty circuits in the last twenty minutes. Ever since her father had confessed what his meeting with Adam King had really been about. Gina’s temper spiked anew every time she thought about it. She couldn’t seem to sit down. Couldn’t keep still.
At every other clomp of her boots against the wood floor, she shot her father a look that should have frizzed his hair. When she thought she could speak without screaming, she asked, “You tried to sell me?”
“You make too much of this, Gina.” Sal sat on the sofa, but his comfy, relaxed position was belied by the glitter of guilt and caution in his eyes.
“Too much?” She threw her hands high and let them slap to her thighs again. “What am I, a princess in a tower? Are you some feudal lord, Papa? God, this is like one of the historical romance novels I read.” She stopped dead and stabbed her index finger at him. “Only difference is, this is the twenty-first century!”
“Women are too emotional,” Sal muttered. “This is why men run the world.”
“This is what you think?” Teresa Torino reached over and slapped her husband’s upper arm. “Men run the world because women allow it.”
Normally Gina would have smiled at that, but at the moment, she was just too furious to see the humor in anything about this situation. Oh, man, she wanted to open up a big, yawning hole in the earth and fall into it. What must Adam have been thinking when her father faced him with this “plan”?
God. Everything in her cringed away from that image. Could a person die of embarrassment?
“You said yourself Gina should get married and have babies,” Sal told his wife.
“Yes, but not like this. Not with him.”
“What’s wrong with Adam?” Sal wanted to know.
Nothing, as far as Gina was concerned, but she wasn’t about to say that.
“There is…something,” Teresa said with a sniff.
Gina nearly groaned.
“You don’t know Adam well enough to think there’s something wrong with him,” Sal told his wife.
“Ah,” Teresa argued. “But you know him well enough to barter your daughter’s future with him?”
And the argument was off and running. Gina only half listened. In her family, yelling was as much a part of life as the constant hugs and laughter. Italians, her mother liked to say, lived life to the fullest. Of course, Gina’s father liked to say that his wife lived life to the loudest, but basically, it was the same thing.
She and her brothers had grown up with laughter, shouts, hugs, more shouts and the knowledge that they were all loved unconditionally.
Today, though…she could have cheerfully strangled the father she loved so much. Gina’s gaze shifted around the room, picking out the framed family photos sprinkled across every flat surface. There were dozens of her brothers and their families. There were old, sepia prints of grandparents and great-grandparents, too. There were photos of children in Italy, cousins she’d never met. And there were pictures of Gina. With her first horse. As the winning pitcher on her high school softball team. Getting ready for her prom. Her graduation. And in all of the pictures of Gina, she was alone. There was no husband. No kids.
Just good ol’ Aunt Gina.
Old maid.
The Torino clan was big on family. And she was no exception to that rule.
Gina had always wanted a family of her own. Had always expected that she would be a mother, once the time was right. But in the last couple of years, as she’d watched her brothers’ families grow while she remained alone and single, she’d begun to accept that maybe her life wouldn’t turn out the way she’d always hoped.
And
