Chapter 13
Enzo
The Romanos owned one of the highest rated Italian restaurants in the city.
No easy feat considering the competition, but the moment I strode into Romano Vita, I could see why they stood out.
The interior was designed to look like an ancient Roman villa, complete with columns, wall frescoes, and floor mosaics.
They had put a hell of a lot of effort into the legitimate side of their operation.
Servers maneuvered around me, carrying plates of carpaccio with white truffles, saltimbocca, and clam risotto to the long center table.
There were smaller tables around the main one in the center, all of them occupied either by familiar faces or based on the family resemblance, what looked to be Valentina’s relatives.
Half the guests on what seemed to be Valentina’s side of the family were already glaring in my direction with murder in their eyes.
I followed the servers toward the largest table, then suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder.
Slowing down, I turned around to find an older woman who looked remarkably like Valentina giving me the once over with narrowed eyes.
Standing next to her was Valentina herself, wearing a gold dress that stopped right below her knees.
The dress fit her curves so perfectly that it looked like she’d been painted in gold. She was mouthwatering.
“You weren’t exaggerating when you said he was tall,” Valentina’s mother said before holding out her hand. “Bridget Romano.”
“Enzo De Luca. Good to meet you, Mrs. Romano,” I said, shaking her hand.
“We’ll see about that, young man,” Bridget said, a bite to her tone. She smiled politely, but it didn’t reach her eyes, which were still coldly appraising me.
Looked like I had my work cut out for me. Not only did I have to win over Valentina, I had to get my future mother-in-law on board as well. A mother-in-law who likely hated me even more than Valentina did. No pressure. Good thing I had all night to get this charm offensive going.
Valentina leaned forward, subtly getting between me and her mother. “Should we head to the center table or should we greet the guests first, Enzo?”
Whatever got me alone time with my fiancée. Talking to Valentina would be a hell of a lot more interesting than making small talk with people who were likely plotting to shoot me at the dinner table. “Give me five minutes of your time, Valentina,” I said, jerking my head toward an empty corner.
Her cheeks turned pink. That coy, innocent response from her of all people was making me really fucking desperate for that alone time. I wouldn’t be satisfied until I got her to blush again.
“Before you kids run off...” Bridget paused to gesture to a photographer across the room. “I’d like a photo.”
“Great idea, Mom,” Valentina said.
Clearly, there was no refusing Mrs. Romano. The photographer came over and Bridget raised her hands to push me and her daughter together.
I felt the warmth of Valentina’s body as she pressed up against me. Unable to resist the opportunity to touch her, I placed a hand on the small of her back, pleasantly surprised to discover that the gold dress was backless. Her bare skin was silky smooth and I felt her tremble against my hand.
“No cheesy smiles,” Bridget warned, taking a step back for the photographer to get to work.
The photographer took photos of us for a minute and then he was huddling with Bridget while they talked shop.
I offered Valentina my arm, and unlike the last time when she refused me at my condo, she accepted it. Her arm entwined with mine, I led her to the corner at the far end of the restaurant.
“Your mother hates me,” I said, reluctantly releasing my hold on her.
“All the Romanos hate you,” Valentina said breezily as she stood in front of me, her back to the wall. “Don’t worry about it. You wouldn’t be the first guy I brought home that my mother despised.”
“I’ll be the last fucking guy you ever bring home,” I growled possessively.
She tilted her head back to gaze up at me, her full lips parting provocatively.
At least, it looked that way to me. Valentina was so blatantly sensual that it was tough to know when she was doing certain things on purpose or by accident.
No doubt she had used her feminine wiles on me at some point.
She’s likely use them again before the night was over. I’d be a fool to complain.
“Threatening me before dinner?”
“It’s not a threat to you,” I said. “Just the men in your orbit.”
“Are you jealous, Enzo?” she asked, the hint of a smile playing on her lips.
I leaned in closer, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of her perfume. Jasmine this time, exotic and intoxicating.
“You know I am,” I admitted, my eyes holding hers.
“Truly, it’s the other men in your family who are burning with jealousy.
You should see the way they look at you.
With so much resentment. You’re about to have everything.
Including me.” She slid her hands up my chest, stopping to rest them on the lapels of my jacket.
The sensation of her hands on me sent my blood rushing southward.
“Clearly, it’s not just the Romanos who hate you tonight. ”
That got a cocky grin out of me. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Oh?”
“Kind of hard to take my eyes off you,” I said, meaning it.
With her golden hair fanning her face, combined with that outfit, she looked like a Roman goddess.
Another rosy blush. An innocent response that contrasted with the desire blazing behind her eyes. “It will take a lot more than flattery to seduce me.”
“I’m up for it,” I said, accepting her challenge. Valentina would be worth the wait. Even though it killed me to hold off until our wedding night. “That’s what the honeymoon is for, right?”
“Thinking our honeymoon will be your reward? Awfully presumptuous,” she said, still smiling.
“Where did you want to go for our honeymoon?” I asked.
“Well, we can’t go to Italy,” she said.
“Not unless you want to be a widow,” I murmured.
“Why can’t you go to Italy, anyway?” Valentina asked.
“My family has pissed off some pretty dangerous people there,” I answered. “I can go anywhere else on the planet.”
“Of all the places to be banned. The home country.” She sighed as she smoothed her hands down my lapels. “What a shame.”
“Why are you being so nice to me tonight?” I asked.
She answered my question with one of her own. “Would you like me to pick a fight in front of your family?”
“No. Of course not.”
“We can sling our arrows behind closed doors,” she said. “Besides, I’m nice when you’re nice.”
“Gonna have to call bullshit on that.”
Valentina laughed, the throaty sound making my heart clench. Dammit, she was so sexy. A miracle I had managed to resist temptation since our first meeting. Despite our mutual hatred, I knew the kind of woman I was up against—the kind who could bring any man to his knees.
“I’m in a good mood because the bullets haven’t started flying like I thought they would,” she explained.
“Staying in one piece around your family is cause enough to celebrate,” I said.
“If we’re going to celebrate, why don’t you get me a drink?” she suggested. “I’ll have a—”
“I’ll decide what you drink tonight,” I said, cutting her off.
Valentina arched a slender eyebrow, looking half skeptical and half intrigued. “Fine. You choose my first drink. I’ll decide if you’ve guessed correctly.”
“What do I get if I pick right?” I asked her.
My fiancée paused for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “If I like the drink you choose, our honeymoon destination will be up to you.”
“I don’t need to ask for your input?”
“No.” She shook her head. “So don’t make me regret this.”
Confident that I could guess correctly, I took her hand and started to lead her to the center table. The table was positioned length-wise, so we grabbed the two empty middle seats.
As Valentina settled into her seat, I motioned to a passing server, quietly ordering the first round of drinks for the night. Minutes later, the server returned with a glass of scotch on the rocks for me and a glass of chilled sangria for Valentina.
I grabbed the scotch while Valentina lifted her glass and we clinked them together in a toast.
“Here’s to us,” she said.
“To us. And to this feud between our families coming to a peaceful end.” I took a gulp of the strong liquid, grateful to have something to take the edge off the mounting stress of this family gathering.
Valentina brought her glass to her lips, momentarily sampling her drink. “Lucky guess,” she grumbled, looking at me over the rim of her glass. She granted me an approving smile and then took another sip.
I immediately started going through honeymoon destinations in my head.
If we could go anywhere on earth, I wasn’t going to squander the opportunity.
Not only was I going to take the opportunity to impress Valentina, I was going to choose a place I actually wanted to go.
A chance to avoid the tourist traps and go somewhere truly secluded.
“So, have you decided on a destination?” Valentina asked, sounding curious.
“Thinking about it,” I responded.
There was a sudden commotion at the restaurant entrance and Valentina’s father appeared, flanked by several bodyguards.
Don Romano approached the center table to warmly greet his daughter and firmly shake my hand.
Then, he took a seat at the head of the table, a satisfied expression on his weathered face.
We ordered dinner, with Valentina pointing out her friends and relatives as we ate the first course.
Minutes later, my own father arrived, my mother on his arm, my brothers bringing up the rear.
As my brothers took a detour to talk to some of our cousins, my parents came over.
My mother looked bored as always while my father made for an intimidating presence.
My old man had been tall and burly in his youth, now he was closer to heavy with a broad chest and a bulging stomach.