Harbour of Refuge (2 page)

Ever since the fallout—there really wasn’t any other name for it, because it had damn near gone nuclear—this cold person had replaced his brother.

“Lighten up, Val. You’re in Monte Carlo, for Christ’s sake.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry, Val
entino
. Only Lexy can call you that?” He’d meant it as a joke. The glower on his sibling’s face stated it might not have gone over so well. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sighed. “You need to learn to enjoy life,
brother
.”

“I enjoy life.”

“Really? Because I remember watching you at a party with tons of beautiful,
willing
women, scowling from where you sat.”

Valentino drank some coffee. “I do not sleep with everyone I find attractive.”

“Do you sleep with anyone?”

As their food was delivered, Valentino leant back in his chair. “Why so interested in my sex life?” He posed the question in Italian.

“Because I think that’s part of why you’re so uptight.” Enzo answered in the same language.

“I am perfectly capable of finding a woman.”

“But you won’t. It’s been seven years since—”

“Do
not
go there,” Valentino rumbled, danger piercing every fibre of his tone.

“We’re just worried, is all.”

“Don’t be.” The command was gruff.

Enzo knew enough to know when to drop it. Did he want to? No. He hated this shell of a man his brother had become, yet he also knew Valentino could be the most stubborn person in the world. So he dug into the pile of food before him. They ate in silence until two shadows fell over the table. He glanced up to find two women there. The smile he flashed them was practised and came with ease.

“Good morning, ladies.”

Instantly he categorised them. The outgoing one versus the quiet one. The closer one—more outgoing—had a Mediterranean look, with her olive skin and glossy black hair. She wore high heels, a short, green, flirty skirt and a pink bikini top.

The shy one was a black woman. She had natural curls in numerous shades of brown, from light to dark. Her lips were full and unglossed. Her skin reminded him of pecan shells with its hue. She wore a blue T-shirt with a tie-dyed peace symbol on the front, and white jean shorts. Flat, sensible shoes were on her feet. She was an understated beauty next to her flashy friend. Reminded him a bit of Jaydee and Lexy.

“Sorry to intrude on your breakfast, Mr Cassano, but my friend and I are huge fans and would love your autograph.”

Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he grinned. “Of course.” He took the pen after getting her name. Mila.

“Would a picture be okay?” Mila asked.

He nodded.

“Take it, Halyn.”

He stood and wrapped his arm around her. Her perfume was so strong it made his eyes water. Nothing he wasn’t used to, however, and it was over quick.

The shy one came up next and handed him the picture he’d autographed for Mila. It was one of his stock photos, and very common for people to have. She looked almost uncomfortable.

“Is this for you or someone else?” he asked with a smile, as he retook his seat to sign his likeness.

“Me.”

Damn. Her voice was low and throaty. Like a kick to his groin, it took his breath away. He liked smoky voices—similar to some of the female singers of days past.

He asked her to spell her name. Halyn, pronounced Hay-lyn. He liked it. Unique, like the woman, he’d bet. He signed the photo and handed it back as he stood. All was fine until he touched her. The moment he slipped his arm around her, something hit him. A feeling he’d never experienced before, but one that spread throughout him entirely.

She wore a soft scent, one he couldn’t identify, but wanted to smell more of. Unlike his other fans, Halyn didn’t press her breasts against him, or try to grope him.

“Thank you,” she said, after the picture had been taken.

“My pleasure.” He gazed at the pair again. “Are you two ladies here tonight?”

Mila answered, “We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon.”

Perfect
. “We’re having a party tonight.” He wrote the time and location on a napkin. “Would love to see you there.” He flashed another practised smile.

“Thank you,” Mila gushed. Halyn merely gave him a small nod as they walked away.

He wanted to see her again, preferably when not hungover so he could focus a bit more on his reaction to her. Valentino rapped on the tabletop, dragging his attention from the women.

“What?”

His brother raised an eyebrow.

“It was just an invite to tonight’s party. Nothing major.”

Valentino shook his head and returned to his breakfast. Enzo did the same, all the while wishing his brother could—and would—find happiness.

* * * *

Halyn Jennings watched him enter. Him being Italian playboy, hotshot powerboat racer. Women flocked to him. Even now he had two on each side of him. He commanded the attention of the room when he walked in.

His Italian good looks were no secret to him, and she noticed the well-practised smile he wielded with ease. He knew how to play the crowd.

There was nothing about him that said ‘forever’ to her. He gave out smiles and winks like people on floats tossed candy to kids during parades. She didn’t begrudge him that, it was his life.

Still, it was difficult to turn her attention from him. Sun had streaked his brown hair and he had thick, slashing eyebrows, bow-shaped lips and chiselled features. His lean, well-muscled body moved with predatory grace.

She blew out a breath then took a drink of her chilled water in an attempt to cool herself down. Trouble or not, the man was fine as hell. He wore a white button-down, with the first few undone, showing off the tanned skin of his chest, a stark contrast to the purity of his shirt.

“I want his babies,” Mila said beside her.

Mila Raptis had been a friend ever since she’d come to her hometown as an exchange student from Kavala, Greece. There were times Halyn was jealous of her friend’s ability to be so carefree.

She wasn’t about to voice her opinion on that. “I think those women are thinking something along those lines as well.”

“He
invited
us.”

“And
they
came with him.”

Mila pouted. “Whose side are you on?”

“Yours, of course, just pointing out facts. Like the one where you already have a man.” She wiped some of the condensation off her glass.

“What’s wrong? You’re quiet, even for you.”

Just preoccupied with that hot-ass man over there.
“Nothing’s wrong.”

Mila moved at her own speed and tended to worry about her often, although Halyn had always been the quieter of the two.

“I’m fine. Don’t hang here on my account. Go jump in the pool with the others circling him. Or one of the other racers here.”

“You’re making him sound like a piece of meat, Halyn.”

As opposed to how you’re talking about him?
She merely shrugged and waved as Mila headed off, insinuating herself closer to the man of the hour.

Halyn danced and laughed as the night went on, having a wonderful time even though she avoided the racers. Grateful for a breather, she grabbed another water from the bar and found a spot outside, along the outskirts of the party.

“Not your kind of thing?” a decadent voice asked from behind her left shoulder.

Her insides did the same thing they’d done when he’d put his arm around her for the picture—tightened and quivered. She shook the feeling off, determined not to fawn over him as these others were doing.

“Just catching a break.”

She turned and inhaled sharply. Could a man grow more handsome within a few hours? Or was it she was merely lightheaded from dancing? Nope, this one had. Somehow. Perhaps it was a trick from the lights? Nope, wrong again.

A day’s growth of stubble graced his face and she had this insane urge to rub against it. His eyes—which watched her intently—were light brown and did crazy things to her belly all over again.

He moved to lean beside her on the glass deck railing and she had to lock her knees at the masculine scent that accompanied him. Warm and spicy, it reminded her of cold, snowy nights before a roaring fire.

“Tell me about you, Halyn.”

Okay, so she was doing a little jig internally that he remembered her name. But her levelheadedness surfaced. What did he want? She was obviously not the type of woman he usually hung with. Past his shoulder, she spied her friend toasting her with a mixed drink, her arm around a different racer.

“Nothing to tell.” She gave a small shrug.

Enzo turned so he faced her completely. His eyes mesmerised her. Under the cotton of both shirt and bra, her nipples drew taut. Her breathing hitched and her panties grew damp.

He could be so much trouble for her. She wasn’t an idiot, nor was she naïve, despite the fact she was from a small town. However, she wasn’t a block of ice, either, and he…was getting to her. Yep, she would be hard-pressed to say no to a night with him.

“Why do I not believe that?”

Wow.
That voice of his was so sensual and smooth as it flowed over her flushed skin.

“Probably because most girls you chat up can’t keep their mouths shut.”

He blinked a few times before a wide smile split across his face. “And what do you know of the company I keep?”

Damn her wayward tongue. “Not a thing.” She never could keep opinions to herself.

“You’re right, you know,” he said after signing autographs for two giggling females.

She stared at her water and sloshed the contents in the bottle. It amazed her at how these women were so uninhibited with what they wanted him to sign. He’d barely blinked when one had pulled off her shirt for him to write his name on the top of her breast, which was clad in a very skimpy bikini top.

“About?”

“Those women.”

“Must be hard for you,” she said drolly.

“Hey, I like a real conversation.”

Was it her imagination or did he sound as if he were actually affronted?

“I’m sure you do.” She cast her gaze around to locate Mila. Her friend was dancing, sandwiched between two hot men. One would never guess she had a devoted man waiting for her back in the States. With a deep breath, she turned to face the Med.

“Have I done something to offend you?”

Eyes wide in shock, she whirled towards him. “Of course not, why?”

“You seem as if you are trying to avoid me.”

Facing him completely, she allowed her gaze to roam his chiselled features. “I’m sorry,” she said with contrition. “I’m just not a huge club kind of girl.”
And you make me feel out of my league.

“Come with me.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I can get you out of here and somewhere quiet.”

She grinned. “I can do that on my own, merely by walking out.”

“True, but I want you to come with me.”

“Why? Seems like you’ve had plenty of offers for bed partners, even while standing here with me.”

“Like you pointed out, they can’t shut up and when they talk there’s not much substance.”

She smiled and her heart skipped at the answering sparkle in his eyes. “And you want conversation in bed?” There went her mouth again.

“I was thinking at a table or bench, but sure, bed works.” He gave her a grin, which had her gravitating towards him before she caught herself.

“So you want me for my conversation skills.”

It was hard not to squirm beneath his intense stare. “Yes.”

Goodness, she almost melted at the heat from that one word. “I’m not much of a talker.”

He held out his hand. For a second she wondered what it would be like to be wanted by this man in a straight-up, sensual way.

At the door, she paused and he tilted his head to look at her. “What?”

“I need to tell my friend.”

“I can leave a message with someone for her.”

Nope.
“I’ll be right back.” She wove through the dancing crowd to her friend, feeling his gaze on her the entire time.

“Mila!” she called out over the music.

“Come to join us?”

They didn’t really give her a chance to reply—she was manoeuvred between Mila and one of the guys.

“I’m heading out,” she said, her hips moving to the pulse of the music. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I will, will you?” There was no mistaking the seriousness in her gaze.

“Yes.” The man behind her gripped her hips and ground against her. She fluidly stepped away and he pressed into Mila again without missing a beat.

“I’ll want all the details,” Mila said with a wicked grin. “Call me and let me know you’re okay.”

Halyn made her way back towards the door, only to stop when she found Enzo waiting for her there in the middle of the dance floor. She tipped her head back, struck again by how good-looking he was. His stare bored into hers and the intensity with which he watched her made her pause.

“Change your mind?” she asked. Even if he answered in the affirmative, she would still leave.

They were surrounded by people but she felt as if they were alone. He snaked a hand around her waist and pulled her flush to him.

She licked her lips at the feel of his thick erection pressing into her. “You want to dance?”

He still didn’t speak. At least not verbally. The music pulsed around them, loud and heavy. Her gaze remained locked with his as they moved in harmonious tandem with one another.

Moisture gathered as they mimicked sex. The vibrations augmented her experience. Sweat rolled down her spine, the heat between them amplified by all the bodies pressed tight on the floor.

His hands settled on her hips. Two fingers on each side, dipping below the waist of her shorts. Sex. It was foremost on her mind. Correction—sex with Enzo.

There was no way a man who moved his hips like that would be bad in bed. She’d bet he wasn’t a selfish lover either, and bottom line, she was horny.

Repositioning her arms around his neck, she tangled her fingers in the ends of his hair. She didn’t press him with questions, just accepted the dance. She liked being in his arms.