CHAPTER NINE
T he lunch was delicious, and my tension and nervousness eased as we ate. Even though it was easy to get lost in Rocco’s blue-eyed gaze and his dazzling grin, he had a way to keep me talking. He reminisced about his college days in Boston, and we connected on having roamed the same libraries and spent countless hours walking Harvard Square and Boston Commons. When we touched the subject of art, our conversation flowed easily. We were delighted by the same classical exhibits. It surprised me how easy it was to talk to him and how we had some things in common. At the end of the meal, we rose to leave.
“Where are we going next?” I asked him.
“Dancing,” he answered.
“Dancing? Like in a nightclub?” My brows raised. New York was in full summer, and it was a hot, sunny afternoon.
“We’re having a dance lesson. Unless you already know how to swing dance?” His tone raised.
I scrunched my face. “Swing?”
He touched the pucker in my brow with amusement. And that mere brush lingered. I blinked rapidly.
“Watch out. You don’t want to be photographed like that,” he mused.
I quickly wore a blank expression, and we walked out of the restaurant. My pulse jumped in my throat. There were photographers out front, but his car was double parked, and with a security guard I hadn’t seen before, we were in the back of the Mercedes within a minute.
During that time, I thought about swing dancing. I remembered a movie I once watched that was full of flips and shaking hips. Definitely splashy, definitely something my grandparents would hate. Now I know why my grandfather was trying to get Rocco to change his mind. But even they backed down. It was clear, Rocco Marini was a man who got his way.
“Why swing?” I asked.
“My family will want to dance with you.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Really? They’ll have to pull me onto the floor.”
He clicked his tongue. “That won’t stop them. Swing dancing is their favorite. Put on Benny Goodman or Louis Armstrong, and you can’t keep them in their seats.”
I tilted my head. “Not mine. I don’t think my family dances.”
“I’ll get your mother to dance with me,” Rocco said.
I cackled. “I doubt it.”
Judge Colby used to try to get Mama to dance with him when he was on a “lucky streak.” He’d lose soon after and blame her with a backhand to the face for getting his hopes up.
“The Brass Clarinet is a big band dinner club. I want to spin you around the dance floor. It’s fun. We won’t do anything that would break your leg, but I want us to celebrate. Make it special, build memories.”
Build memories? Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as Rocco’s expression turned dreamy. There was the Rocco I’d seen in the press: imaginative, exciting, and impulsive. He also had a charm that was hard to turn down.
“Fine, dancing it is,” I told him.
The Mercedes stopped in front of a warehouse. Rocco helped me climb out and held my hand to the front of the building. A tingle charged through me just from our touch. The plaque on the building wall read M.B.E. in gold lettering: Marini Building Enterprises.
“This building was for imports,” he told me. It appeared fully renovated in brick and steel. The directory listed the dance studio on the second floor, and we both decided to take the stairs to it.
A middle-aged woman in a leotard and skirt greeted us at the door. “Hello, I’m Mable.” She touched her name tag. “So good to see you again, Mr. Marini. I see you have brought someone special for a lesson?” she said cheerfully and shook our hands.
He kissed her cheek. “Yes, this is my fiancée , Adelina,” Rocco said, and a shiver went through me. I’m almost married.
“Nice to meet you. This is my first lesson,” I told Mable.
“That’s fine. I have many couples coming to me for their first lessons. Congratulations to you both, and don’t you worry, Adelina, I’ll have you dancing like Ginger Rogers in no time. Now, let’s dance.” She glide-strutted away, moving her hands wide as she took her position before a wall of mirrors.
I held in my laugh but whispered to Rocco, “Who?”
He grinned. “A better dancer than us.”
We took our places behind her.
Mable turned and clasped her hands together. “Good. The best dances start with a good mood. Every swing dance is this move. Now, first alone. Rock step, rock back….”
We followed her moves in the mirror, taking a step forward, bouncing on each foot, and then stepping back. Time slowed down, and I was surprised we’d only been dancing for twenty-five minutes. Once we mastered that, she added triple steps—three steps forward, three steps back. She swung her hips and bounced, and I did the same.
“Looking great there,” Rocco teased.
I glanced at him in the mirror; he was light on his feet, quickly transitioning like a pro. Then again, he’s in a dancing family. He’s used to it.
“Not too bad yourself, hotshot,” I joked.
She put on Louis Armstrong’s “Mack the Knife.”
“Count out loud, Adelina,” Mable said. “It will help.”
My lips moved as I counted. Rock back, side-side, rock step.
“Add a little flare,” Mable called out.
We were moving in a box, side to side and back. I started swaying my arms and hips as I moved. “Yes, Adelina. Let go. Have fun…Now it’s time to dance with your partner.”
Mable positioned Rocco’s hand around my waist, our hands clasped. We took the steps we’d learned together, our bodies pressed as we turned. My breathing staggered, and I lost count of the steps.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Rocco assured me.
He took the lead and moved me around the studio floor, adding a spin.
“Let your hands move wide, Adelina. Music is about feeling,” Mable called out. “Dance like no one is watching.”
She changed the music to Benny Goodman Orchestra’s “Sing. Sing. Sing.”
Rocco moved behind me and placed his hands above my hips. Then he took my hands, and swung them wide as we triple- stepped front and back side. We twisted, hopped, and clapped our hands.
Mable taught me additional steps and twists I could do. My body was moving and shaking. I laughed as I kept the beat. A giddy lightheadedness bloomed inside me, expanding my chest. My eyes found Rocco, who winked at me. I’d never had this much fun or felt so…free. It was invigorating. Then Mable turned the music off. “Now, let’s try a slow dance. You’ll do one as a couple at your wedding.”
My heart pounded. I’m getting married.
“I’m putting on my wedding song, ‘Only You,’ by The Platters.”
Rocco took my hands and placed them on his broad shoulders, then put his on my waist. I lifted my head. His gaze bore in and fused. We swayed together in a circle, and it surprised me how easy it was to dance so close to him.
He turned me around, wrapped his arms around my waist, and held me from behind. I trembled and tensed, but he kept me close, swaying with me, just as the music called for. The next song was also by The Platters, “The Great Pretender,” and we stayed close together in a slow dance. Every muscle began to loosen, and warmth filled my body as he kept a tight hold on me. It was unusually sensual. His restraint didn’t feel like a trap, but it made me feel less lonely. A lump lodged in my throat. I hugged, but no one ever held me, not even Mama. For the most part, I wouldn’t allow it. But it was a comfort I never knew I missed until I had it. I wasn’t sure how I’d gone so long without it.
The song ended, and I broke Rocco’s hold, adding a laugh as I bounced away to Mable. “Thank you so much for the lesson.”
“It was my pleasure. You two sure make a lovely couple.”
My eyes couldn’t resist returning to Rocco. His gaze was concentrated on me, but he spoke to Mable. “Thank you. I very much enjoyed it.”
We said our goodbyes and thanks to Mable, then headed down the stairs to exit the studio. I was floating on air and I could have pinched myself thinking Cassidy would never believe I swing danced with Rocco Marini.
I glanced at him as he held the door open, and to my surprise, he didn’t retake my hand, but walked next to me. Did I do something wrong? I wondered. But there was still a soft smile on his lips. He had a confident stride that made people on the sidewalk part as if not to interrupt his flow. My own pace was shorter. I finally fell back, and Rocco reached back and placed his hand on my back. A tingle went through me from the contact. Not only that, but also a happiness rose inside of me when he did it. I liked that he cared to keep me next to him. It’s no more than being a gentleman. I had to remind myself. Even feeling that way made me feel like a schoolgirl getting attention from a boy I had a crush on. My annoyance at myself was my only defense, as he flashed me a luminous smile, yet again, and placed his hand on my back as I climbed back inside the car. Did he feel me tremble from just his mere touch?
The car door closed, and I put on my seatbelt.
“The Greenwich Hotel, Rick,” Rocco told his driver.
“Why are we going there?” I asked, my voice rising octaves.
“I’ll explain, but first, tell me why you’re nervous?” His gaze flicked down to my hands, and I switched from keeping them folded to unfolding them on my lap.
“Uhm, I don’t know,” I mumbled.
“I believe you do,” he said in a light tone. “Listen, Adelina, you can relax. I’ll never force you into my bed. I arranged the hotel before I picked you up because the press hang around my building. A film I produced is coming out soon and is getting a lot of buzz. I didn’t want to put that pressure on you.”
A flutter went through my stomach. Rocco was considerate, and I appreciated it. “Okay.” I nodded and blew out my breath.
Traffic horns blared, and the car turned a corner. Gazing out the window, I could see the sign for the hotel ahead. Minutes later, the car pulled to the curb and stopped.
“Is there someone you’d like to invite to the wedding or to be your maid of honor?”
“Cassidy Cosgrove. She’s my best friend,” I said cheerily. “I hadn’t thought I’d have much input.”
He smiled. “You do. Give Isla her information. She’ll be inside waiting for you to go over a few things. I travel a lot and have commitments abroad, and I thought it would be good for you to experience it early.” He lowered his head and sighed. “It seems unfair to throw you into the deep end right away, but I’ll try to make it enjoyable.”
“I’m excited about the travel.” I beamed.
He stared for a few moments at me and while I was captivated by his devastatingly handsome profile, my brows lifted questioningly.
“You have a radiant smile, Adelina.”
I blinked. “I do?”
“Yes, you do. You’re very beautiful.” His voice was strong, and his expression serious.
The skin on my face burned. Me? Beautiful? I’d been flirted with by boys and college guys before. But no one as gorgeous as Rocco Marini. He was one of the rare, beautiful people. Cassidy had merely typed in his name and thousands of images came up on the search. Heck, he was photographed and swooned over daily. But did he really think that about me? He dated starlets, he’s merely being polite. My eyes darted away, but then he clasped the side of my face and turned me back to him. “Did I say something wrong?”
My heart pounded harder and faster. I lowered my eyelids, my bottom lip trembled. “I…I don’t know what to say to that; I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me.”
“That’s hard to believe. I’m sure many have thought it. I know I did the second I saw you again. You are beautiful. Very much so,” he said. There was conviction in his tone and an intensity in his gaze that had me struggling to refill the air in my lungs. “Th-thank you.” I glanced at him and he was smiling.
He moved a few strands of hair that had fallen into my face. The brush of his fingers brought a tingling to my skin. “I know it’s different marrying a stranger with whom you’d share a bed. But I believe we’ll be like lovers one day.”
I shuddered and touched my warm face. “Lovers?” I whispered.
“Lovers,” he repeated. “We can have passion for each other. How do you feel about that?” He waited until I raised my head, then pierced me with a gaze that was filled with pure lust. Heady. I shifted on the seat as heat surged through my body. I could feel my clit swell. I didn’t trust myself to say anything or even breathe. I licked my lips and my heart pounded. His fingers slid down my face, and tucked my hair behind my ear. He had to feel the tremor and heat on my skin. My heart pounded hard enough that I could feel it in my ears.
“What are you thinking, Adelina? Surely, I haven’t scared you,” he mused, his tone light.
I licked my lips. “I…I don’t know passion.” I flicked my gaze his way and his was soft on me.
“You will,” he said assertively. “I know I’ll have it for you; I can already feel it.” His voice was deep, and he sounded breathless. I glanced down at his hand on the car seat near my thigh and was distracted by the ache forming between them. I shifted, crossing and uncrossing my legs, as I smoothed my damp hands on my thighs.
He inhaled sharply, his eyes moving boldly down my body as my breathing quickened. My dress felt tight around my nipples that were taut. I didn’t need to speak, my body told him everything. All my inexperience and insecurities were on full display for this worldly man. What must he think to be paired with a woman like me? I wanted to shrink and disappear.
“Fuck. You really don’t know your power,” he said with surprise in his tone, his voice low. “Your sweetness will undo me. I’m eager, Adelina. There are so many things I want to do to you.” He leaned close, and I could feel the heat from his body. His intoxicating scent filled my nostrils.
I took a shaky breath, my heart pounding hard.
“Adelina…I’m a patient man, and I can restrain myself. I won’t even take a kiss unless you want it. But know I want you when you’re ready.”
I sucked in air and stared at his lips and a shudder went down my spine. Desire coursed through me so intensely my clit throbbed. I was so wet and wanted to feel what he wanted to do to me so badly that if Rocco had made a move on me, I doubted I’d have the strength to stop myself. I wanted his hands to touch me more, the press of his lips on mine. But I can’t. I shouldn’t .
The car door opened, and I practically leaped out of the car to escape from the lust that filled it. But even outside on the sidewalk, I failed to recover.
My head lifted, and I found his gaze was hot on me. He waited for that . And for the life of me, I couldn’t look away, not even when the car moved on down the road.