Star-Crossed (5 page)

* * * *

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“Warm lamb tongue. Crispy polenta sweetbreads.” Jules looked up from her menu and pulled a face at Romeo. “Is this what y’all eat?” Romeo shook his head, his eyes wide. “I think this is some sorta fusion cuisine.

Which is so wrong.”

Jules laughed and looked back to the menu. “They have a pasta-tasting thing that seems decent. But it says the whole table’s got to order it.”

“Works for me.” Romeo set the menu aside. “I’m all about pasta. Carbs and me are old friends.”

“I’m not real sure what smoked purple Cherokee conserva is or why they’re putting it on pasta,” Jules went on, still reading through the pasta-tasting selections.

“But it sounds better than warm lamb tongue.”

“Italian fusion.” Romeo shuddered. “Why fuck up something that’s perfect to begin with?”

“If it ain’t broke.”

“Exactly.” Romeo pushed the menu closer to the edge of the table as if it would somehow rub off its fusion cooties on him. “Are you sure you don’t want some wine?”

“No.” Jules winced inwardly. The night before she’d drunk too much, and she was still trying to recover. “I’m on vacation from wine, but don’t let that stop ya. Order some if you want it.”

“I don’t actually drink.” Romeo gave her a look of hesitance. “I know that makes me sound like a prude or something.”

“There ain’t nothing wrong with not drinking. When I was competing, I didn’t drink ’cause you can always feel it the next day. I rarely drink, and between you and me, when I do, it usually ends badly. I’m a lightweight.”

“I probably am too,” Romeo said, another smile tugging at his lips as he straightened the silverware. “I’ve never tried it. I don’t like the idea of being outta

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control. Freaks me out. I guess I was worried about other things when most teenagers were learning how to party, and I never got into it later.” Jules heard the sadness in his voice. She knew she should let it be, but she felt compelled to reach out to him. “What other things did you have to worry ’bout?” Romeo gave her a sad smile. “My mom had cancer for a long time. She died when I was nineteen.”

“Oh.” Jules studied Romeo, seeing the pain etched over his face though it was obviously a long time ago. “I’m sorry.”

He went back to straightening the silverware in a nervous action that betrayed a man with a lot of extra energy. “Me too. She was great. I mean, not perfect. She made mistakes like we all do, but she had a good heart. I miss her.”

“My mama died when she was having Wyatt and me, so I can’t say I missed her when I never knew her, but my daddy, losing him was rough. He died when I was twenty-three,” Jules whispered, because just saying the words made her heart hurt.

“One day I get a call from Wyatt saying he’s dead. No warning. He dropped at the sheriff’s office, and there weren’t nothing to be done for it. Sometimes I think it’d have been easier if he’d been sick for a little while. At least we could’ve said what needed to be said.”

“It’s not. Watching someone you love get sick and waste away is terrible. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

“Yeah.” Jules knew he was probably right. She gave him a sad smile and then tried to lighten the mood. “So how’d you get involved in MMA?” He gave her a look of hesitance, his smile embarrassed. “I’m not gonna tell you.” Jules laughed, because his New York accent got more pronounced, making it obvious he was self-conscious. “Come on.”

“No way.” He shook his head, still smiling in embarrassment. “Tell me about you.

What sport did you compete in?”

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“Judo. Karate. Mostly judo when I got older. I was on the US Olympic team.” Romeo’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really?”

“I didn’t go, though.” Jules winced. “Daddy died and I quit. I had other obligations.”

“Like your brother?”

“Yup.” She nodded. “Kinda sucks.”

“I’m sorry.” Romeo sounded earnest as he studied her across the table. The dim lighting made his beautiful eyes glow, and the candlelight flickering over his strong features made him more enigmatically handsome than ever. “I’m sitting here being a horrible date, feeling sorry for myself for one loss, and you had to give up your dream.

That
does
suck.”

Jules stuck her tongue out. “Make me feel better, why dontcha?” Romeo flinched. “God, I’m an asshole.”

“Nah.” Jules laughed. “You’re just fine. There ain’t nothing wrong with your company. I’m kinda enjoying it.”

Romeo smiled that breathtakingly handsome smile once more. “Ditto.”

* * * *

Dinner was really nice. The food wasn’t nearly as horrible as it sounded, and there was something fun in sharing exotic pasta with Romeo, which was bizarre. Yesterday she’d hated him simply for being a competitor to Clay, who was more a brother than friend. Today she was on a date with a handsome, charming man who’d risked his life to save a woman he didn’t even know. It should be difficult to accept they were the same man, but it wasn’t.

Plus Romeo was excellent company. He was easy to talk to, and
they had a shocking number of things in common. Both raised by single parents, they held the same interests and had lived through some of the same tragedies. It created a camaraderie that felt like a light in the darkness. Jules was practically glowing by the

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time they got to the dessert—a gelato made with fried dates and lavender honey that burst with flavor on her tongue.

She found herself wanting to lick the exotic honey off those full, kissable lips as she stared at Romeo across the table. The truth was, she was practically shifting in her seat with sexual frustration. It’d been two years since she’d had sex with something that didn’t vibrate, and a lot longer since it’d been sex worth remembering. Just the sound of Romeo’s voice made her wet. The way he talked with his hands—big, powerful hands.

The way that beautiful suit showed off his impossibly broad shoulders. The way the dark green tie brought out his eyes.

Jules wanted this,
wanted him
, and she’d always had one of those hard-driving personalities that allowed her to go the distance for a goal she’d set her sights on. She felt it click, the surrender that this was going to happen and she’d very likely be the instigator because that’s just who she was.

She took another bite of her dessert and smiled at him coyly. “Now that I got you drunk on gelato and lavender honey, you have to tell me how you got into MMA.” Romeo put a hand to his chest and gave her a bemused smile. “It takes a lot more than one dessert to get a sugar high outta me. Look at me; I’m like two regular guys at least.”

Jules took the suggestion and looked,
hard
. She let her gaze run over him in blunt appreciation as she said in a low, teasing voice, “Yes, you are.” Romeo met her gaze, his eyes lighting up in a way that set her on fire as he studied her. Then he shifted in his seat and reached for his glass of water as if looking for something to do with his hands. It was obvious Jules wasn’t the only one pent up, which was surprising. A man like Romeo could have any woman he wanted, but Jules suddenly got the impression he was more discerning than most would give him credit for.

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He cleared his throat after taking a long, gulping drink of water and set his glass down in front of him. His gaze met hers once more, and a smirk tugged at his lips.

“
Karate Kid
.”

Jules leaned forward, thinking she’d heard him wrong. She wasn’t even certain what they were talking about. Looking at him left her thoughts scattered in a million directions.

“Excuse me?”

“MMA,” he clarified, his smile turning to a chuckle of embarrassment. “The reason I got involved was
Karate Kid
.”

Jules couldn’t help it: she laughed. “The movie?”

“Yes, the movie.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head as he took another bite of his dessert. “I know it’s stupid, but I related to it. I was Italian. He was Italian. I was poor. He was poor. But he actually made something of himself. I wanted that, something more than the shit house that was my life at eleven. Two bratty brothers always getting in trouble, always underfoot, always needing to be fed ’cause those two were born with an appetite. A mother always working late and stressing out, leaving me to do all that other stuff, like dinner and baths and homework. I used to sit in the living room doing my homework and watch that movie over and over after I got Nova and Tino in bed. One day I just decided to go for it and went down to the martial arts place two blocks over and asked for classes.”

“How’d that go?”

Romeo laughed. “At first they told me to fuck off ’cause they knew me. They knew my mother didn’t have money for classes. But I was persistent. I offered to work for the classes. I was looking for a Mr. Miyagi. Some mentor who gave a shit. A father figure. I dunno what the hell I was looking for, but they got sick of me bugging them and let me clean toilets and mop floors in exchange for two karate classes a week.” Jules studied him for a long moment, taking in his massive build. She remembered his grim determination when he fought Clay. When he fought
anybody
, because Romeo

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Wellings was one of the most feared fighters in all of MMA. There was a raw fury to his fighting. A wild passion that was beautiful and terrifying. He was swift and agile for someone as big as him, and there was no denying he had a natural gift that likely showed itself at a young age.

“How long before they started teaching you for free?” Romeo’s smirk turned cocky. “About two months.”

“Cashed in on that, did they?” Jules asked knowingly.

“As fast as they could. Just like you, I competed all the way through high school on a national level. We probably ran into each other without knowing it.”

“And when did you turn to MMA?”

Romeo gave her a dark, haunted look. “When I got tired of playing by the rules.” Jules heard the anger beneath the surface and could sense a lifetime of fury in that one statement. After all, Romeo had never been known for fighting by the rules.

Everyone knew he’d fight dirty to win. Penalty was his middle name. It was little wonder a hatred of the rules is what pushed him into MMA.

“Maybe rules are overrated,” Jules mused to herself while battling the lust pulsing through her bloodstream. “I think I’m sick of ’em.” Romeo’s eyebrows rose as if he’d heard some sort of defeat in her admission.

“Yeah?”

Jules nodded, still feeling dazed by the entire evening. “Oh yeah.”

“What’re we gonna do about that, Juliet?” Romeo sat back in his chair and ran a hand over the fine hairs on the back of his neck as he studied her. “You don’t strike me as a rule breaker.”

“I’m not,” she assured him. “I always play by the rules.”

“But not tonight?”

“Nope, not tonight. I told my brother I was out on a date with a cop.” 40

Romeo had been taking a sip of his water but coughed into his glass. Then looked at Jules with wide eyes and laughed. “Are you friggin’ kidding me?”

“No.” Jules laughed with him. “Wyatt hates you. I couldn’t tell him I was buying you dinner.”

“I’m personally insulted by that.” Romeo did a very good job of feigning insult. “I don’t think I like being your dirty secret.”

“I’m sorry.” Jules frowned before an incredulous laugh burst out of her. “Were we pretending to be allies? You’ve been bad-mouthing my best friend and my brother to the media for the past four months.”

“That’s part of the game. It’s what the promoters want. It’s what the fans want, and I like to give the fans what they want seeing as they’re the ones who make sure I get a paycheck. And I thought we already decided we weren’t enemies.”

“True,” Jules had to reluctantly agree. She took another bite of her forgotten dessert, letting the sweetness rest on her tongue for a long moment before she sighed.

“I’m not real sure what we are.”

“What would you like us to be?” Romeo countered tauntingly, his tone daring her to be honest.

Jules sat there quietly as she considered her answer. She really didn’t want to be enemies with him, not after tonight, not after what he’d done this morning. She genuinely liked him, but it was more than that. She was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Everything in her was humming for something she was finding hard to name.

Friendship, sure, but there was something much more carnal between them. The word
lovers
seemed all wrong; it implied something soft and sweet and romantic, which was the very last thing she wanted from a man like Romeo.

“Sweaty and naked,” Jules finally settled on. “Wild, sweaty, and naked. That’s what I want us to be.”

Romeo sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes widened. His entire body tightened as if something electric had struck him, but Jules had to give him credit. He recovered

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quickly and leaned forward as his voice dropped to a low hum of arousal. “You wanna take off?”

Jules nodded, feeling breathless with excitement. “But I got a brother sprawled out over the bed in my room.”

Romeo sighed, his body taut with obvious anticipation. “I got the same problem times two, but I have a black American Express that says I can rent any room this hotel has to offer.”

“I pay for the dinner. You get the room,” Jules said with a swift, lawyerlike efficiency.

“I’ll text you the number.” Romeo straightened his suit jacket as if looking for some way to cover up things that had risen. “Going up separate is a good idea. This place is crawling with tabloid photographers after the drama today. A dinner is one thing; leaving together is another. You could end up explaining more than you want to your brother when our picture ends up on TMZ.”

That was very true. Wyatt and Romeo had been a little too vocal about hating each other. Jules getting caught on this date, especially after the national news making drama of this morning’s shoot out that Romeo was smack-dab in the middle of, was a little too newsworthy, and Jules should’ve considered it.

“I’ll meet you there,” Jules agreed when Romeo tossed his napkin on the table and stood. He walked past her, and Jules couldn’t help but reach out and grab his wrist. She looked up at him imploringly. “You’re not a dirty secret. Ya know that, right?” He gave her an amused smirk. “Yes, I am.”

Jules let go of his wrist and winced, hating to admit he was right. “Shit.”

“Hey.” Romeo reached out and cupped Jules’s chin. “I get it. Don’t worry about it.”

Jules took a shuddering breath because his touch felt so good. He shocked her by rubbing his thumb over the curve of her bottom lip. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she 42

moaned just from the simple caress. Unable to help the indulgence, she licked at the rough pad of his thumb, savoring just that hint of a taste of him.

“Jesus,” Romeo groaned.

Jules opened her eyes, giving him a look that must have conveyed exactly how she felt—pent up and pulsing with a raw sexuality that left her aching for something wild and raw and hard in a way few would understand.

Romeo slammed his other hand against the table, heedless of the bandage and fresh stitches beneath it as he leaned heavily into her. It’d be so easy to run her hands over his beautiful body. To push aside his suit jacket and pull open the buttons to his expensive silk shirt.

Jules wasn’t the only one fighting for sanity. If anything, Romeo was worse off, and she shoved at his stomach before they caused a scene. She brushed her fingers against the ridges of hard, abdominal muscles hidden beneath his shirt as she rasped,

“Go.”

Romeo’s hand slid to the back of her neck, his thumb caressing the curve of her throat. “I’m gonna make it good for you, Juliet.”

“I know,” she whispered, still fighting the unexpected tidal wave of passion that had welled up between them. She couldn’t even be bothered to correct him about her name; she was too far gone to do anything more than push halfheartedly at his stomach once more. “Go now, Romeo.”

He left, and Jules felt bereft the moment he did. She resisted the urge to watch him go and admire that powerful, dangerous body in the sexiest suit she’d ever seen.

Instead she found herself looking to the other tables. She hadn’t noticed anyone but Romeo until he left. Now she saw the eyes again, some that stared at her, more that followed Romeo as he made his way out of the restaurant. He was a little too handsome, a lot too huge, and far, far too recognizable.

They’d just made a scene with tabloid reporters and major media outlets crawling in every corner of this hotel. It’d be a minor miracle if Jules escaped without being

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exposed for the lapse, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care too much. Not when her body was vibrating with this much sexual energy. She hadn’t felt this alive, this desperate for something outside the ordinary that’d been her life for so long. She didn’t even hesitate to raise her hand when she spied their waitress at the next table over.

When the young waitress walked over, ready to serve, all Jules had to say to her was, “Check, please.”

Then Jules sat there, skin tingling with need, her heart beating the hell out of her ribs because she’d done it. She’d voiced her thoughts out loud, and Romeo responded without hesitation when most men would have been put off by her forward, aggressive nature.

She was a strong, independent woman who didn’t see anything wrong with a hot, steamy sexual encounter between two consenting adults. It was nice to meet a man who didn’t make her feel like less of a woman for enjoying a little casual sex when the opportunity arose, which, granted, was next to never, but that was beside the point.

She’d been the aggressor, and he’d been okay with it. In fact, Romeo almost seemed to enjoy it.