The Groom (13 page)

As he trailed the group down the
winding path, back across Bow Bridge and out of sight, Lyle was left standing
alone in the park with only the soft glow of fireflies nearby and the warm
taste of summer air. Was that it? After he’d decided to throw caution to the
wind and try for romance instead of practicality, he got the rug pulled out
from under him. He felt as if he’d been punched in the gut, much like he had
when Holly left him at the altar.

Yet, this was different. The pain
was sharper, and Lyle wondered if it was because he’d allowed himself to hope
for something beyond what felt comfortable. His feelings for Katrina were a
lightning storm of emotions he wasn’t ready to put a name to. He knew he wasn’t
ready to give that feeling up yet. Kissing her in the rain had showed him that
he’d never truly kissed anybody; at least, not in the way that truly mattered.
It left him wondering what else he could experience differently, if there were
other things he thought he’d known but had yet to truly feel.

Purpose filled his stride as he
left Central Park, his jaw hardened as he stepped out onto the sidewalk to hail
a cab. Stay away from her? He couldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

_____

You made a wise decision,
Gattina.

Alessandro’s words stayed with
Katrina long after she’d closeted herself in her bedroom with an oversized box
of chocolates. After a hot shower, she wrapped herself in her favorite fluffy
bathrobe and curled up against the many throw pillows on her bed. After she’d
killed off about half the box, Alessandro finally stopped pacing outside of her
door and trying to convince her to talk to him. She heard him settle on the
couch and turn on the T.V. There was no getting rid of him after the shooting.
Salvatore, Victor’s Consigliere, had called and charged him with keeping
Katrina within his sights at all times. Victor had been wounded in the shooting
but survived and was, apparently, already ordering a retaliation strike.

Katrina sighed as she reached for
another caramel-filled truffle. The rich confections were only a temporary
pleasure, a pitiful substitute for the rush she got from being kissed by Lyle.
Right now the only rush she was experiencing was a sugar high. Her usual go-to
for emotional pain relief was off-limits. A box of chocolate medicine would
have to do.

Walking away from Lyle at the
park was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. Never in any
relationship had she felt so conflicted over whether to go or stay. In the
past, the men in her life had always been no good for her. Leaving was never
hard. But Lyle . . .

 
A relationship? Could their brief
encounters and a few hot kisses even be called that? Probably not. Then why the
deep ache in her chest at the memory of his crestfallen face? He’d looked as if
she’d just gutted him, and she felt like a terrible person because of it.

“What was I supposed to do?” she
mumbled to herself as she bit into another truffle. At this point her taste
buds had experienced chocolate overload but chewing helped her think. Lyle
didn’t know what he was getting himself into with her, but Katrina did. In the
past, most of her boyfriends had been directly involved with the Family. Soldiers,
capos, associates . . . in some way, they had ties to the Giordano Family
business, which meant they lived the kind of lifestyle she used to. Danger was
a part of that life, but then so were money and notoriety. But Lyle was kind
and good, he saved lives for a living. Getting mixed up with her right now
would only leave him hurt or dead in the end, and the thought of that upset her
more than having to turn her back on him.

It was better this way. She had
just gotten to a place in her life where everything she touched didn’t fall
apart. She’d hate for Lyle to become her first failure after she’d finally
gotten her life together.

She was jolted from her thoughts
by the sound of pounding at the door. By the time she was on her feet,
Alessandro had opened the door and was confronting whoever was on the other
side. She fumbled with the doorknob with shaking hands. Once she got the door
open, she stumbled through it, catching her balance by leaning against a large,
tall vase resting near the door. It wobbled but she righted it before righting
herself, pulling the lapels of her robe closed over her chest as she locked
eyes with Lyle.

Alessandro’s protests trailed off
as he turned to face her, but he kept his wide body in the doorway, blocking
Lyle from stepping over the threshold. Two others—soldiers whose names
she couldn’t remember—stood just outside the door, flanking Lyle with
arms crossed over their chests.

Katrina sighed, crossing her arms
as Lyle’s eyes burned into hers, the green darkened and the golden flecks
danced like flames.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she
said. Even as she said it, she knew her tone lacked conviction.

“Just give me five minutes,” he
said. “Alone,” he added as he cut his eyes toward Alessandro. “After that, if
you still want me to go, I’ll go.”

“Let him in.” Despite her better
judgment, she couldn’t let him leave without knowing why he’d come.

Alessandro remained where he was,
watching Katrina searchingly, his gaze begging her to change her mind. She knew
that it was only part jealousy; the other half was genuine concern for her.

“Sandro,” she said softly.
“Please let him in. You can stand by the door if you really want to.”

“No thanks,” he muttered as he
stepped away from the door, allowing Lyle to enter. “I’ll step out on the fire
escape for a smoke. Tony and Lucca are going to stay out in the hall. If I hear
even the smallest squeak, I’m busting through your door.”

Katrina nodded as Lyle crossed
through the living room and into her bedroom, removing his glasses as he came
and depositing them on the surface of her dresser.
 
She wondered what he thought of her
space: the warm tones, worn furniture, and mismatched wall art. The warm
reddish glow caused by sheer scarves thrown over lampshades enveloped him. “You
didn’t answer my question,” she said once the door was closed. She leaned
against it, keeping her arms folded over her chest. She was acutely aware that
she was naked beneath her bathrobe. “Why are you here, Lyle?”

“I’m here for you.” In a flash,
he was across the room, his palms pressed flat against the door as he leaned
close. “Tell me to go, Katrina.”

She raised her chin at the
challenge in his voice but couldn’t find words. Really, even one word would do.

Go.

It was all she had to say and he
would leave, she knew it. If he thought that was what she really wanted, he
would turn and walk right back out the front door if she said that one little
word.

But she couldn’t. Because she
didn’t want him to leave. He was standing way too close, and he smelled
entirely too enticing for her to even think of asking him to leave. The heat of
his body at this proximity was soaking into her skin, and despite the
discomfort it caused, she wanted him closer. She wanted his shirt gone and her
robe open so they could be skin to skin. She wanted him to kiss her and touch
her and . . . she exhaled noisily, the sound that escaped one of desperation
and surrender.

Katrina knew he sensed her need
when he stepped even nearer, giving her what she wanted by pressing his body
against hers. Her back met the door as his lips brushed the line of her jaw,
moving slowly back toward her hairline. His fingers came up to tangle in the
locks and he tugged gently, tilting her head back and exposing the long column
of her neck with a sigh.

“I can’t walk away,” he
whispered, his breath tickling her skin. “You asked me to walk away, but I just
can’t. You made me want things, Kat, things I didn’t know I was missing until I
met you. You gave me a taste of you and now you want to take it away. So, you
see, I can’t turn away from you. I don’t care who you are, or what you’ve done,
or where you’ve been.”

“You should care that being with
me could get you killed,” she protested weakly, even as she sank into him.
Without words, she urged him to touch her. He did, running his fingertips from
her chin, over her throat and to the open V at the neckline of her robe. He
paused at her collarbone, and Katrina’s breath caught in her throat.

“Tell me to go,” he said, turning
his gaze up to lock with hers. She felt trapped in that gaze, held captive by
the stunning swirl of green and gold she found there. “Tell me to go, Katrina,
and I will. I can’t unless you tell me to. Look me in the eye and tell me you
want me to leave.”

In the park, just before she’d
walked away from him, she’d been aware of the fact that looking at him would be
the end of her. It was why she’d kept her eyes rooted firmly to the ground as
she’d told him to stay away. Now, she was locked in his eyes and couldn’t pull
away. That gaze was dangerous, as were the lips hovering just over hers.

“Katrina,” he warned, and she
could tell his patience was wearing thin. He wanted an answer. He wanted her to
push him or pull him, whichever way she pleased. She found the power
exhilarating, but did not forget that he was wielding the same power over her.
If he were to let her go now, she’d probably fall to the floor at his feet.

“Stay.”

The words hung on the air between
them for a moment as he watched her silently as if wanting to be sure he’d
heard correctly. When he didn’t respond, she reached up to cup his face with
both hands, bringing him down toward her lips.

“Stay,” she repeated before
kissing him, taking what she’d wanted from him the moment she saw him standing
on her doorstep. His relieved sigh met hers between their mouths the split
second before they kissed.

The dueling of lips and tongues
that followed was merciless, heated, an expression of everything they felt
emotionally translating into the physical act. Katrina shuddered as his heady
taste flooded her senses, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and holding
on tight. She was grateful for the thick, masculine thigh anchored between hers
and the hips keeping her pinned to the wall, otherwise she wasn’t sure she
could remain on her feet. Her skin tingled from scalp to toes with electricity,
her pulse racing as his hands came up to the belt of her robe.

“More,” he whispered, his voice
rough and tortured as he yanked at the knot, stocking a similar urgency in her.

She nodded jerkily as her fingers
came up to the buttons on his shirt, her fingertips fumbling to get it open.
“More,” she agreed, unable to move fast enough to bare more of his skin to her
touch. Her gut clenched with longing as she revealed inch after inch of tanned
golden skin sprinkled with soft, downy blond hair. She bit her lower lip
hungrily as she followed that blond line down over a chiseled abdomen to where
it disappeared into his pants. His muscles jerked beneath her touch and he
inhaled sharply. His eyes slid closed as she traced the lines and planes of him,
tracing the underside of one very impressive pectoral before following the
groove that split his abs into sections before ending back at his belt.

Lyle reached up to part her now
untied robe, his eyes lowered to the fevered skin he was revealing bit by bit.
Katrina shivered as cool air whispered across her naked skin, and then trembled
as Lyle’s hands left the lapels of her robe and cupped her aching breasts. His
breath raced across her skin as he touched her, squeezing and massaging with a
tenderness that left her aching for more. She wiggled against him and
whimpered, arching her back in a silent plea. He obliged her, shooting her a
knowing half smile as he flicked his thumbs over the taut buds, commanding them
to stiff peaks with the slightest caress. She moaned, her lips parting as she
finally exhaled, finding relief in the exquisite slide of the pads of his
thumbs over her nipples.

Katrina gripped his hips and held
on tight, using the pressure of his pelvis against hers to stay anchored
against the wall, desperate for the hard length of him taunting her through the
layers of fabric still separating them. He grasped her wrist gently as she
reached for his belt buckle, shaking his head slowly as he leaned in for
another kiss.

“Not yet,” he whispered as he stepped
away a bit, his eyes traveling over her from head to toe. Katrina couldn’t do
anything but stand there, leaning back against the wall, her naked body exposed
by the parted robe and watch as he knelt in front of her, his eyes burning up
at her from beneath a fan of blond lashes.

Her breath caught in her throat
as his hands traced a path from her hips down to her thighs before stopping
just above the knee and running back up again. He repeated the motion, his grip
tightening, his fingers sinking into her flesh. His thumbs made slow, deep
circles on her inner thighs, working steadily inward and upward in a slow,
precise dance that left Katrina’s legs quivering uncontrollably. Her chest
burned with the breath she was holding as he came closer and closer to touching
her where she truly wanted it, and her pulse raced with anticipation as she
prayed that he wouldn’t stop now. His eyes lowered to the mound between her
hips, his breath whispering across her skin as his fingers caressed the lips,
earning a sharp gasp from Katrina as he parted her, his index fingers gliding
over the slick folds within.