Melt Into You (6 page)

“Amy, slow down.” Reflexively, Natasha drew in a deep breath. “Everything’s going to be all right. What happened?”

Amy inhaled, too. “They’re all in jail. Everyone’s in jail, Tasha! You’ve got to get them out. Please!” Wherever Amy was, a loud buzz came over the line. Then voices. A door slammed. “Wes’s assistant tried to pull some strings, but he only made it worse. Even Giada’s best people couldn’t help—”

“Bandini is involved in this?”

“—and the
Tifosi
girl is too drunk to be any use—”

Natasha frowned. “What’s a
Tifosi
?”

“A Ferrari racing team fan.” Amy sounded a little calmer now. “We were celebrating the close of the partnership deal—”

“It went through? That’s great!”

“—at a local nightclub, and, um, things got out of hand.” More clanging came from Amy’s end of the conversation. And more talking. “I didn’t know what else to do except call you.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it,” Natasha assured her. She’d liked Amy from the moment they’d met, a few years into Natasha’s tenure at Torrance Chocolates. Amy had come in to visit Jason—another of Natasha’s favorite people—and Natasha had given her a personal tasting tour of the chocolate selections while they’d waited for her then-fiancé to arrive. “Just sit tight.”

“The police haven’t been very cooperative—especially since Wes threw that punch,” Amy said. “The language barrier isn’t exactly facilitating things, either. Are you sure you can help?”

“I’m sure.” With a welcome sense of being useful and needed, Natasha set down her latte. She pulled out her trusty PDA full of important contacts. Like Damon, she had a thing for technology. Unlike him, she didn’t usually indulge her whims for the latest gadget. “I bail out Damon all the time. Believe me, this is not the diciest situation I’ve ever scraped him out of.”

Chapter 5

Thirty-nine and a half laborious hours later, Natasha stood expectantly in the baggage claim area of San Diego International Airport. Harried travelers rushed past. Prerecorded announcements droned over the sound system. The greasy smells of stale pizza and french fries lingered in the air. But as Natasha stood waiting, none of that mattered ... and the reason was Damon.

Natasha wasn’t sure why, but being around him just made her feel better. It always had. Damon was like the fun-loving yin to her more studious yang. They were two halves of a better whole. Because where she was practical, Damon was
fun
. Where she was organized, he was spontaneous. Where she was dependable, he was ...

Well, he was
late
, actually. Standing on tiptoe to catch a glimpse of her sexy, trouble-attracting boss and his undoubtedly weary travel companions, Natasha felt her heartbeat kick up a notch with anticipation. Or maybe with concern. Sure. It was probably concern. Because he’d been through a lot in Italy.

She’d been through a lot here. After all, bailing him out hadn’t been easy. But she’d done it. She was proud of that.

At long last, Damon came into view—broad shouldered, slim hipped, and smudgy under the eyes. He wore perfectly fitting jeans, a white shirt, and an expensively distressed jacket. None of those items could have looked any better than they did on him. Just glimpsing him made Natasha’s breath catch in her throat. She felt
so
relieved he was okay—so relieved he was
home
.

Once again, he’d been lucky. Excessive partying hadn’t caught up to Damon in the same way it would have to anyone else.

He spotted her. As a greeting, Natasha held up the coveted iPhone she’d practically had to kick and claw to get. Damon’s face brightened. Then she held up
another
iPhone—this one a gift to herself, from Damon, as a thank-you for rescuing him.

Instantly, Damon recognized as much. Because despite his playboy image, he was much cleverer than he let on. He was also capable of intuiting a lot; he’d always had a talent for that. His knowing smile beamed at her to prove it. Then, moving a little faster, Damon reached her. He dropped his carry-on bag on the airport floor, then pulled her into an embrace.

Tears
actually sprang to her eyes. Feeling him all warm and real and safe against her, Natasha laughed. Damon squeezed her.

“I was worried you wouldn’t be here,” he said as he pulled back. “You told me you’d leave if I pushed you too far. I was afraid I’d finally made you bail me out one too many times.”

“Nah.”
Wow
, he looked wonderful. His eyes were all smoky brown, his jaw was all shadowy with beard stubble, and his hair defied gravity in places. But his sought-after smile was just for
her
, and that was all Natasha needed. “That’s what the second iPhone was for. It’s a bribe from you to me. So ... thanks!”

Damon laughed. She loved that sound. When she had to go without it for too long—because he was traveling or she was busy or they were being pulled in separate directions by their separate lives—Natasha got undeniably cranky. She might not be Damon’s girlfriend, and he was
definitely
not the kind of man she needed in her life right now, but they cared about one another. They connected on a deeper level. What she and Damon shared couldn’t be replicated.

It couldn’t quite be quantified or defined, either, Natasha mused as she inhaled the familiar piney aroma of his fancy shaving soap and smiled all over again. She and Damon had forged a close-knit working relationship—a relationship she believed they both treasured. They’d never tried taking that relationship to another, more personal, much
sexier
level. But as Damon hugged her again, then reared back to drink in the sight of her, Natasha began wondering, for the first time in years ...

Did Damon ever think of
her
as anything other than his trusty gal Friday? Did he even know she had a finalized divorce to cope with, a cutie-pie son to raise, and a broken-down car?

She’d always been scrupulous about keeping her private life separate from her work life. At first, it had been a matter of simple self-preservation: Natasha didn’t trust Damon enough to let loose about anything that really mattered. Later, she’d kept her boundaries in place as a matter of routine. But now,
here
...

Well,
now
, in that moment, with Damon’s touch still making her feel vaguely tingly all over, Natasha couldn’t help wondering ... could there ever be something
more
between them?

Damon’s voice, husky and assured, broke into her thoughts.

“Natasha, I want you to meet someone.” Wearing a uniquely vivid smile, he urged forward a curvaceous woman with dark hair, glasses, and a fashionable ensemble that fit her statuesque figure to a tee. He touched her arm. “This is Giada Bandini.”

“Oh, hello, Ms. Bandini!” Surprised to see the espresso company exec, Natasha held out her hand. “I didn’t expect you.”

“There’s something else you didn’t expect.” Like a kid with a secret, Damon grinned. He hugged Ms. Bandini closer. “Giada and I got married! We eloped in Milan. Isn’t that fantastic?”

Married?
When said by Damon, the word didn’t compute.

“You’re joking.” Natasha gawked at him. She’d thought he’d looked so happy because he was glad to see
her
—not because he’d impetuously gotten married. This couldn’t be happening. “You can’t have gotten married. This is ... it’s a joke, right?”

“Nope.” Exuberantly, Damon kissed Giada. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’m finally in love. Real, true, forever love.”

Love
. Natasha couldn’t argue with that. She wanted Damon to be happy. She did. She cared about him. Of course. But ... this?

It was too soon. It was too reckless, even for Damon.

“So, are we going to ditch this place or what?” he asked.

Natasha blinked at him. “What?”

“I’m dying for a hot shower, a gigantic sandwich”—Damon held apart his hands to show its approximate monster dimensions—“and about fifteen hours of uninterrupted sleep.” With cheerful relish, he rubbed together his palms. “I can only get two out of three of those things here at the airport.”

“At least legally.” Unexpectedly sidetracked by the idea of Damon indulging himself in a steamy, soapy, naked,
non-
airport-provided shower, Natasha looked away. That would be ... so
hot
.

Then she gave herself a very necessary mental shake.

“I have a car waiting.” Airily, she waved her hand. Now that she’d opened this Pandora’s box of imagining Damon nude, sudsy, and ready for commitment—albeit to another woman—it was going to be difficult to slam shut again. “There’s champagne there, already chilling. We can use it to toast your marriage!”

The words were difficult to force out. Especially since Natasha’s overactive mind was suddenly preoccupied with cranking out fresh fantasy scenarios. Oblivious to the fact that circumstances had irrevocably changed, her imagination conjured up several ways she and Damon could have been together if he’d decided to commit to
her
instead. With Natasha sprawled across the waiting car’s expansive backseat, Damon’s hands holding her steady as he loved her with his lips and tongue. With Natasha on top of him, her skirt hiked up around her thighs as he entered her. With Natasha moaning as she took Damon in her mouth, making him beg her for more,
more
...

Oh God. What was
wrong
with her?

“Excellent! I enjoy champagne,” Giada announced, sashaying toward the exit. “This time, we must try not to get arrested.”

Wrenched from her problematic fantasies, Natasha stared. “
That’s
why you got arrested? Because you were celebrating your wedding?”

Damon looked abashed. “Well, that
and
the merger. We were celebrating both. Torrance Chocolates and Bandini Espresso are definitely long-term partners now.” While Giada sauntered onward, Damon held Natasha back. He gave her a concerned look. “Hey—are you sure you’re all right? You look ... different.”

She probably looked lusty, Natasha knew. “I’m fine.”

“Did something happen while I was gone?”

I got divorced and realized I want you
. “Nope.”

Damon didn’t appear convinced. “Come on. I know you better than that.” He frowned. “Is everything all right ... at home?”

His tentative tone snapped her out of her reverie the way nothing else could have. Damon was usually so certain about things. But not about
her
, Natasha reminded herself. Because Damon didn’t really know
her
—not all of her. Thanks to the wall she’d created between her work life and her home life, as far as Damon was concerned she was just another tool to help him achieve his stated goal of world chocolate domination.

Damon still wasn’t finished trying to make his father proud of him. To Damon, Natasha was just a means to that end.

“‘Is everything all right ... at home?’” she repeated. While the airport hubbub swirled around them, she gave him a deliberately cynical look. “Tell you what: I’ll forfeit my entire year’s salary, right now, if you can tell me one single detail of my home life. For instance ... what street do I live on?”

For a minute, she thought he might actually do it. He had read her personnel file once, after all. He had a very good memory when he bothered to use it for anything other than identifying his favorite brand of tequila. Then Damon gave her a characteristically teasing grin. “Don’t
you
know what street you live on? That must make it tough for you to find your way home.”

Natasha’s heart broke a little. Patiently, she waited.

“All right. Uncle.” Damon raised both hands in surrender, not even pretending he might be able to guess about her personal life. “You’re fine. I get it. I’ll quit bugging you.”

“Yes, you will.”
No
.
Please keep trying
. “Thanks.”

“But I still think something’s going on with you.” With more perceptiveness than he deserved to possess, Damon peered at her. “Sooner or later, I’ll figure out what it is.”

God, she hoped not. “Maybe. You’ll probably forget to try.”

“Now I’m doubly determined.” His grin dazzled her, just the way it always did. But now his was a married grin. An off-limits grin. A grin she had to resist. Damon jostled her shoulder in a brotherly fashion. “I just want you to be happy, Natasha.”

Hearing the affectionate way he said her name, she held her breath. Briefly, she closed her eyes. Damon didn’t mean that to sound as tender as it did. He couldn’t help it. He was ...
him
.

“I want
you
to be happy like I’m happy.” In a jolly way, Damon nodded toward Giada. His new wife was waiting outside with a smoldering Italian cigarette in one hand, looking regal and sophisticated. “It turns out, all I ever wanted was true love.”

“You and me both.” Spying Jason and Amy and the rest of Damon’s weary entourage emerging from the crowd at the baggage carousel with their luggage, Natasha straightened. “Sometimes it’s not so easy to find, though.”

Her newly finalized divorce papers proved that much.

“We should have found true love together,” Damon joked. “That would have been the practical thing to do.”

At his blithe tone, Natasha’s heart splintered a little more. She hadn’t realized exactly how deep her feelings for him went. Now that she was beginning to have an inkling of the way she might feel, it was too late to do anything about it.

“Practical? Ha!” With effort, Natasha met Damon’s gaze directly. “I know you way too well to think
you
could ever be practical. That’s
my
world, and we both know it. You just visit it from time to time to impress the board of directors.”

Damon laughed. “You’re right. You
do
know me too well. But hey ... it’s nice living here in Sexy Fun Town. Why would I ever want to leave?” He glanced at Giada. “And speaking of sexy fun ... I’ve neglected my wife for too long already.” He paused, shook his head, then gave Natasha a look filled with pure incredulity. “My
wife
. Can you believe I just said that? Isn’t that something?”