Chapter 8
Marti could not believe what she was seeing.
When Dante had said he’d prepared for their beach date night, he hadn’t been kidding.
The area looked totally awesome. He had built firepits in a circle, surrounding a couple of nice adjustable loungers made of beautiful fabric with footrests and matching side tables.
On one of the tables sat an ice bucket with a bottle of wine beside it.
He’d also set up a candlelit table for two, and not far away was another lounger, wide enough for two people to stretch out on, with comfortable-looking pillows and a huge, unopened umbrella.
And if the firepits weren’t enough, he’d lit several torches around the perimeter.
“Is that an outdoor pizza oven?” she asked. Everything had been strategically placed to make the area look like a beachside patio.
“It is. I’ve prepared homemade pizza for dinner, and it’s almost done.”
If his idea was to set the mood for romance, then he had gone above and beyond. “I am truly impressed, Dante. You thought of everything.”
“I tried. One of the guys at the Seaglass Saloon told me about a store in Wild Rose Point that specializes in patio and beach furniture.”
“You bought all this?” she asked, glancing around at the furnishings. From the craftsmanship and design, it was obvious that the entire collection had been rather costly.
“The owners of the store were happy to make the sale. They delivered it and helped me set things up.”
“When?”
“Today, around three. I was sure you’d figure it out when you heard all the racket.”
She laughed. “I didn’t hear a thing. After I left the beach this morning, I went to the Wild Rose Point History Center for a couple of hours. I got home around two and was taking a nap at three.”
“Glad we didn’t disturb you.”
“This is an awesome surprise, Dante.”
“I’m glad you like it. I’ll get three months’ use out of it while I’m here.”
“Aren’t you afraid of the tides? What if you wake up one morning and discover it’s been swept out to sea?”
“I made sure it’s far enough away from the shoreline.
And before I leave at the end of September, the store owner said his staff would help me pack it up in the back of my place.
While you’re here, feel free to use it anytime you’re out on the beach.
It would be way more comfortable than sitting on your beach towel. ”
“Thanks, Dante. That’s very thoughtful of you. It will be like having my very own private oasis.”
“You’re very welcome,” he said, releasing her hand and putting the wine bottle in the bucket of ice.
“Nero d’ Avola tastes better chilled.” Then he picked up the other wine bottle.
“This is my gift to you, Marti. I noticed a bottle of this same brand of wine on your kitchen counter was almost empty.”
Marti saw no reason to disclose that she’d spent her first two days in Wild Rose Point indoors, drinking wine and indulging in a pity party. “Thank you. That was very kind of you,” she said, again appreciating his thoughtfulness.
“It’s funny that you got me wine as a gift and I did the same for you, isn’t it?”
“Looks like we think alike,” he said, smiling.
“Is that something else we have in common?” she asked.
“Now you’re catching on,” he said, grinning. “Do you want me to pour you a glass? I hadn’t put it on ice since I thought you might prefer it not chilled.”
“Yes, please. And that’s fine. I prefer my white wine at room temperature and my red wine chilled, which is the opposite of most people.” She watched as he uncorked the bottle and poured sparkling white wine into the glasses.
“I like mine the same way you do,” he said, handing her a glass.
“These commonalities are beginning to scare me,” she said, before taking a sip.
Dante chuckled. “It only means we’re two people with similar mindsets,” he said, taking a sip of his own wine.
Marti watched, mesmerized, as Dante’s lips touched the rim of the glass, and felt her knees grow weak. She sat down in one of the chairs and glanced out at the ocean. Since it was still daylight, the ocean served as a beautiful backdrop. She looked up at Dante when he took the chair beside her.
“I meant to ask how the card game turned out the other night?”
“I didn’t win, but I didn’t lose my shirt either.”
“Hmm, what a pity. I like seeing you shirtless.”
“Do you?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and holding her gaze.
“I think you know I do.” She had seen him shirtless many times during the last few days, and had enjoyed the view, each and every time.
She broke eye contact with him, turning to look down into her wine. For the second time that night, she’d flirted with him, fully aware that he couldn’t possibly miss that she was doing so. When she finally looked up again, he was watching her.
“You smell good, Marti.”
“Thanks. The pizza smells good, too,” she said, trying to downplay the intense heat emitting between them. “And I bet it tastes as good as it smells.”
“You’re about ready to find out. That blinking light indicates it’s ready to be served,” he said, standing.
***
“Oh my God, this pizza is so good…” Marti said, finishing off her second slice.
“Thanks,” he replied, unapologetically finishing off his third slice. He hadn’t had much to eat today other than his morning coffee and the apple he’d grabbed at lunch.
“I’ve never eaten pizza by candlelight and definitely not on the beach. And how did you get the smoke from the firepits to surround the area with the scent of lavender? It’s really nice,” she said.
“I made my own aromatic fire starters. It’s something Dad taught me how to do.”
She nodded. “It’s great that Mr. Avera taught you so much. I only got to know your father that one summer, but even then, I thought he was an awesome person. He spent so much time with us. Come to think of it, there is one thing I remember in particular.”
He glanced over at her as he wiped his mouth and finished off the last of his wine. “And what is that?”
“I recall your father doing something similar to this that summer. He invited me, Nana, and Kara over for pizza. Only, instead of setting it up on the beach, he pulled over a picnic table between the two houses. It was really nice…and the pizzas were delicious.”
She chuckled and then added, “I think that’s when I discovered a person could actually make pizza at home and didn’t have to have it delivered. Do you remember that time?”
“Honestly, not that particular time, but I can remember a few others. Like how Dad would make homemade ice cream for all of us. And he took us to see the carnival when it came to town. He kept us busy.”
“All three of us,” she acknowledged. “Your dad didn’t seem to mind Kara’s endless questions about everything.”
Dante nodded, amused. “Now that you mention it, I do recall her asking a lot of questions.”
“At five years old, she was very inquisitive,” Marti said, grinning. “She still is, but it’s not so annoying anymore.”
“That was a great summer,” he said, thoughtfully.
“It was. It was my first one here and my last…until now. I’m glad that I returned,” she reflected.
“So am I, Marti. And I’m glad that I returned as well.”
Their gazes held, and he felt his heart rate increase.
She was so incredibly beautiful, and she smelled so damn good.
Earlier, when she had commented on how good the pizza smelled, he couldn’t help thinking the same thing about her.
He bet she tasted as good as she smelled.
In a way, he knew how she tasted since he had kissed her a few times.
However, she had another, more intimate taste that he would love to get to know.
At that moment, he figured it was time to refill his wine glass. Standing, he said. “I’m having more wine. Would you like some more as well?”
She smiled. “Yes, thanks.”
Marti handed him her wine glass, and their hands touched. He immediately felt it--a sharp, bone-jolting sting of awareness that seemed more mental than physical. And that shook him.
“I’ll be back,” he said, smiling at her.
“I’m hoping that you will,” was her flirty response.
It hadn’t gone past him that she had given him several such responses tonight. He had latched onto each and every one, hoping they were an indication of how tonight would unfold, and ultimately end.
As he stood pouring the wine, he studied her.
She was gazing off toward the ocean, as if deep in thought.
It had gotten dark. He could barely see beyond the shores, but could clearly hear the sound of the ocean.
It rotated between gentle whispers and loud hums. Only the powerful sounds of crashing waves against the sea stacks broke the stillness of the night.
But at that moment, his full attention was on Marti.
He refocused on pouring the wine. It was not supposed to be this way. No woman had ever been able to dominate his time or attention. It had been that way for years. His only focus had been on the family─the Averas, Kingstons, and De Lucas.
Of course, maybe he didn’t have to be so focused on them anymore. Skylar was now married and his other godbrother, Nico De Luca, who was Ricco’s son and only eight years younger than Dante, was taking on more responsibilities within the company.
Still, even though he now had more free time to enjoy the finer things in life, he had no intention of letting a woman ever be front and center. Marti wasn’t there yet; however, if he weren’t careful, he could envision it happening. And that was not at all what he wanted.
But then what did he want? He knew the answer to that question.
He wanted Marti. In his bed but not in his head, and definitely not getting close to his heart.
Hell, it hadn’t even been a week. Maybe he should pack up and find another place to spend the rest of his vacation.
The Bahamas weren’t so bad, and he still had a place there.
And he couldn’t forget Skylar’s newly opened resort in Napa Valley, which he had named Haven, after his wife.
He had visited earlier that year, but it was still being renovated. The spacious resort, surrounded by beautiful vineyards, had been well worth the extensive remodeling that had been necessary. Once again, another Skylar Kingston acquisition had turned to gold.
As Dante recorked the wine bottle, he knew leaving Wild Rose Point because of a woman was not the answer. And it definitely was not part of his makeup. He would go with the flow and be prepared to walk away at the end, the same way he’d always done with his affairs.
He moved back toward her with the wine glasses. “Here you are.”
It was only then that she stopped staring at the ocean to look at him. “Thanks,” she said, smiling.
She took a few leisurely sips, and then the music, which up until then had been a mixture of jazz and R&B, switched over to Michael Jackson’s, Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’. Dante couldn’t help thinking the song’s title was most appropriate, especially at that moment.
Marti placed her glass aside, stood, and laughingly said, “Time to cut loose.”
And she did.
Dante sat there and watched her every twist and turn in that very short and sexy sundress.
She moved body parts he had forgotten were movable, at least the way she was doing it.
Her dance steps were sinuous, fluid, and full of energy.
Her movements were in tune with the beat of the music and sinfully seductive.
He shifted in his seat when he felt a tightness at his zipper and knew why. Damn.
He sipped his wine as he sat there, mesmerized. Her movements aroused him to the point that he knew he’d have trouble standing up. And he had no doubt she knew exactly what she was doing to him. She could probably see it. Yet she didn’t stop.
She began dancing toward him. When she extended her hand, he placed his wine glass aside and went to her. There was no way he could keep up with her movements, but he would do his best. Throwing his head back, he laughed, actually enjoying himself.
Peace, quiet, and solitude were what Dante had been looking for when he made the decision to come to Wild Rose Point.
Those might have been the things he had hoped for, but Marti Goshay was what he got.
Admittedly, he wouldn’t change a single thing about the way his vacation was going.
If he’d thought that Skylar’s wife, Haven, was a breath of fresh air, Marti was the complete opposite.
She was a spitfire, someone who was authentically herself. And he couldn’t get enough of her.
There was no game-playing or coyness. She was a woman who knew her own mind, one who knew how she felt and what she wanted.
A person who was irresistibly real. That didn’t mean she hadn’t made mistakes in life, but then most people had.
Him included. But she had a way of not only stimulating his body but also his mind.
Definitely, his kind of woman. A rare gem that he had been lucky enough to find.
He thought about the man who had broken her heart.
How could any guy who had earned her love ever do that to her?
And to cheat on her with another woman? That was totally unacceptable.
Some people didn’t know how to appreciate a good thing when they were lucky enough to have it.
There was no question about it. The man who had betrayed her had been a damn fool.
When the song ended, a slow, jazzy duet by Teddy Pendergrass and Stephanie Mills began playing.
Feel the Fire. He drew her close, needing to hold her as they swayed to the rhythm.
He closed his eyes, determined to tune out all the sounds around them ─ the ocean, the nocturnal noises from nighthawks and owls, and the wood crackling in the firepits.
Instead, he placed his full concentration on the woman in his arms… and felt the fire.