Italian Knights (3 page)

“David,” she said with false cheer, elbowing Sal aside. “How nice to see you again. Please come in. I’m not quite ready yet.” She babbled nervously, glancing at Sal quickly. “But I’m sure you won’t mind waiting while I change. It will only take a moment.”

David’s face broke into a wide smile when he saw her. But the smile slowly slid off David’s face when he caught sight of Sal, who stood firmly rooted in the doorway. His long legs were planted wide apart in a threatening stance that no doubt intimidated murderers and muggers alike.

“David,” she said quickly, noting the way the two men were visually appraising one another. “I’d like you to meet Sal Giordiano. He’s an old family friend. Sal, this is David Donaldson.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sal said with a pathetic lack of sincerity. Annie rolled her eyes.

“Come on in,” Sal invited, grabbing David’s hand. Pumping hard, Sal gave David’s hand a hearty yank, pulling him through the doorway and nearly off his pretty patent-leather feet.

Recovering his balance and composure, David turned to stare at Sal in dismay. David was a good five inches shorter than Sal, Annie noted, and as light and fair as Sal was dark. David had a rather round, nondescript face, and even more nondescript features, in direct contrast to Sal’s. Sal’s face was dark and intense; his jaw was firm, his eyes intelligent. Once someone saw Sal Giordiano, they never forgot him. His handsome features were forever etched in their memory.

David on the other hand was a face in a crowd. He was kind and nonthreatening, which is why she’d decided he would be a perfect man for her first date. To begin with, she was nervous enough about this whole business of dating.

The whole purpose of starting this dating fiasco was strictly so that Sal would realize she could stand on her own two feet,
and
so he wouldn’t feel obligated to her anymore. Sal had his own life to live, and it was time he got on with the business of living it, without worrying about her.

If the truth be known, Annie wasn’t sure she wanted to start playing the dating game again. She hadn’t liked it the first time, when she was barely sixteen. At twenty-six, the prospect was even less thrilling.

But she was tired of being a weight around Sal’s neck. If he thought she was dating someone, then maybe he would stop worrying about her. She hoped.

She’d planned to spend a nice, quiet evening in the company of a nice, safe man. A man with whom she wouldn’t have to worry about being pressured into any kind of romantic involvement. Annie knew she wasn’t ready for that part, yet. Even though she’d only known David a few weeks, he seemed pleasant enough, if a bit pompous. Conversation with David would be light and meaningless, nothing intense or probing. Just what she needed right now. Annie had thought David would be perfect for her first date.

But now, watching Sal eye him like a fox after a hound, she wasn’t quite so sure.

“I’m sorry about my outfit, Ann,” David said with a smile, deliberately ignoring Sal. “But I play in a bugle corps, and we had a reception at a consulate this afternoon. I didn’t have time to change, so I thought we could stop by my apartment on the way to dinner.”

“One date and he’s already taking you to his apartment!” Sal whispered in her ear. His warm breath teased her delicate skin and her senses warmed in immediate response. Annie flashed Sal a warning look. There was a long, awkward silence for a moment, as the men continued to appraise each other.

“So…David,” Sal finally said, rocking back and forth on his heels and crossing his arms across his chest. “What do you do?”

“Do?” David stiffened, recognizing an interrogation when he saw one.

“For a living,” Sal clarified.

“I’m in real estate. And you?” he inquired politely.

“Detective,” Sal said succinctly, deliberately adjusting his shoulder holster while David eyed the gun.

“Do you…uh…carry your gun all the time?” the smaller man asked nervously.

Sal grinned. “Do you wear a skirt all the time?”

“Salvatore!” Annie exclaimed softly, wondering what the charges were for gagging a police officer. Whatever they were, she was ready to risk it.

“No.” David shook his head, flashing Sal a patronizing smile. “Only on special occasions.” He matched Sal stare for stare, apparently not in the least bit intimidated by him.

“I
always
carry my gun. You just never know when you might need a weapon.” Sal’s tone of voice indicated he expected to need his gun at any moment.

Oh, Lord. Annie shook her head, resisting the temptation to whack Sal. Again.

“David,” Annie said abruptly, jumping in and trying to ease the tension between the two men. She didn’t particularly care for this macho baloney. “Please make yourself at home. I have to change, but I’ll only be a minute.” She had second thoughts about leaving Sal and David alone, but she had no choice. She wasn’t about to go out on her very first date in a smelly apron and jeans just because she was worried that two seemingly adult men couldn’t behave themselves.

“Sal, could I see you for a moment?” she inquired with forced sweetness. She headed toward the stairs and Sal followed, occasionally glancing back at David.

“I’ll be right back,” Sal called over his shoulder, his words more a threat than a promise.

At the top of the steps, Annie whirled on him. “Sal,” she began, working hard to hold onto her temper. “What on earth has come over you? You’re acting like an overprotective father! I want you to stop it, right now! My
own father
didn’t give me this much trouble when I went on my first date at sixteen.”

“Well, maybe he should have,” Sal said to annoy her. “What on earth do you see in this guy? He hardly seems your type.”

“My type!” Annie cried. She immediately remembered David was downstairs and lowered her voice. “What is that supposed to mean? I don’t have a…
type
! I didn’t have one at sixteen and I don’t have one now.”

“See what I mean,” Sal said smugly, flashing her a wicked grin that caused her heart to pound. “If you don’t have a type, Annie, then how do you know you want to go out with this guy?”

She hated it when he insisted upon being reasonable. “I…I just know,” Annie stammered, unable to think of one really good reason why she wanted to go out with David. She didn’t have one. It wasn’t as if he were her “type,” but rather that he just happened to have asked her out. But she couldn’t very well admit that to Sal. “David’s very…nice, and…clean and…” Sal was standing so close, looking so mischievous, Annie forgot what she was saying.

“Nice and clean, huh?” One dark brow rose in amusement. “Well, Annie, I assure you, those are definitely sterling qualities, but hardly what I call a reason to go on a date with someone. Mrs. Altero’s parrot is nice and clean, but I sure as hell wouldn’t want to see you go on a date with him, either. Although, I must admit, the parrot does seem to have a bit more personality.”

“Sal—” Annie rubbed a spot between her brows that had begun to throb, “—I don’t see what the big deal is,” she whispered, leaning close so he could hear her. “What’s all the fuss about one little date? If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were jealous!”

“Jealous!” Sal thundered, realizing how close to the truth she’d come. “Why the hell would I be jealous of that—that—”

Annie clamped her hand over his mouth. “Will you be quiet,” she cried. “He’ll hear you.”

“Annie,” Sal mumbled, pulling her hand free so he could speak. “What’s your rush?” His eyes held hers. When he laced his fingers firmly through hers, Annie shivered as the warmth of his hand engulfed her, causing her pulse to quicken in response. Startled, she withdrew her hand. “There’s no reason for you to run off with the first guy who asks you out.” Sal was stalling for time, hoping against hope he could find a way to change her mind about going out with this guy. She’d hit too close to the truth about his being jealous.

“I’m not running off, and David is not the first guy to ask me out,” Annie said, trying to banish a grin at the sudden alarmed look on his face.

“He’s not?”

“For your information, Detective Giordiano,” Annie began smugly, crossing her arms across her chest, “last week Mr. Finucci invited me to go to the movies.” Mr. Finucci was eighty-one years old, had one gold tooth and walked with the aid of a goat-handled cane. Mr. Finucci was also a champion boccie ball player. Despite his age, he still had an eye—his good one—for the ladies. He was not above sneaking a pinch when he felt the need. But, Annie mused, widows couldn’t be choosers. A date was a date. And she loved Mr. Finucci dearly.

“Ahh,” Sal drawled, his grin widening. “I always knew Mr. Finucci had good taste.” He leaned forward and spoke directly into her face, unnerving her with his closeness. “At least I know Mr. Finucci. I don’t know anything about this David character.”

“He’s not a character,” she defended, growing irritated again. She wasn’t certain if she was annoyed at Sal for his behavior, or with herself because of the strange reaction she was having to him.

“I have an idea,” Sal said, suddenly brightening. “Why don’t you just let me interrogate David a little? Just enough to put the fear of God into him? I’d feel much— Annie, why are you looking at me that way?”

Closing her eyes, Annie took a deep breath and struggled for control. “Sal, listen to me very carefully. You are
not
going to interrogate David, nor are you going to put the fear of God into him or anyone else. And you are going to stop treating me like a rebellious twelve-year-old who is about to have her virtue stolen. I’m twenty-six years old and quite capable of handling a man on my own. Now, what you
are
going to do is behave, because if you don’t…” Annie paused and took a deep breath. “If you don’t I’ll—I’ll—tell Mrs. Altero you hate her cooking.” She would do no such thing, but it was the worst threat she could think of at the moment. In spite of Sal’s macho posture, he had the kindest heart she’d ever known. He was the only one in the neighborhood who still allowed Mrs. Altero to use him as a guinea pig for her culinary catastrophes. Sal would rather suffer permanent indigestion than hurt her feelings.

“You wouldn’t do that, Annie—” his smile was quizzical as he cocked his head to look at her, “—would you?”

Smiling, Annie called his bluff, nodding slowly. “Now what’s it going to be?” she asked, crossing her arms across her chest. “Are you going to behave or do I snitch to Mrs. Altero?”

“You’re cruel, Annie,” he complained, smiling in spite of himself. “And you drive a hard bargain.”

“Remember what I said,” she called as Sal clumped dejectedly down the stairs. “Behave yourself.”

Why couldn’t Annie understand he was just concerned about her? Hell, she was going out with some guy she didn’t even know. A round of jealousy seized him.

What did this David guy know about Annie? Nothing. Sal knew her better than anyone. He’d seen her mischievous smile, the way her dark eyes lit up with wicked amusement when something tickled her, the way her eyes drooped when she was sleepy. He knew her every nuance, knew every little facet and characteristic of her personality.

After Tony’s untimely death, it was only natural for him to step in to help Annie. She’d been left all alone. All she had was him and his mother and Aunt Florina. They’d taken her under their wing, drawing her into the fold of the family.

But Annie was far from being the helpless widow, Sal thought with a smile. She could hold her own with anyone—including him. Sal liked that. Annie didn’t take any guff from anyone. She had character, integrity, and a feistiness about her that was very attractive. No wonder Tony had fallen in love with her. Sal’s jaw tightened. Tony had been his best friend, but that didn’t mean he approved of everything he’d done. Sal dragged a weary hand through his hair.

For two long years he’d hidden the truth from Annie, shielding her and protecting her, knowing that if she ever found out what really happened the night her husband was killed, she would be devastated. He could talk to her about anything—except that. It was bad enough that he had to live with it. He didn’t want her to go through the same anguish. What was the point? Tony was dead, and nothing could bring him back. Annie’s knowing how he died wouldn’t change anything; all it would do was hurt her, and Sal would never intentionally do that. So he’d covered for his friend, in death, just as he had in life. Sal always thought that someday he would tell her the truth, but someday never came, so he carried the burden alone, knowing he would do anything to protect her.

Sal sighed. He’d been so patient, biding his time, trying to ease Annie over the pain of Tony’s death. He’d never failed at anything, but over the past two years he’d failed to stop his growing affection for Annie.

He’d dated lots of women, trying to blot out the feelings he had for her, but it didn’t work. He would go out with a woman once or twice, and then move on. It wasn’t fair to encourage anyone when he knew he couldn’t return their affection. The only woman he wanted was…Annie.

Sometimes at night, he would lie in bed thinking about her, wanting her so badly that he couldn’t sleep. He could not possibly tell her how he felt, so he’d carefully kept a veil on his emotions. She was his best friend’s widow, for God’s sake!

He knew eventually she would start dating again, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so suddenly. An unexpected wave of possessiveness and protectiveness washed over him and he shook his head.