Last Virgin In California (Mills & Boon Desire) (19 page)

“Probably,” Angela conceded as she slapped Marie’s hand away from the dangerously low-scooped neckline of her borrowed red dress. “And stop tugging on the fabric. It’s not going to come up any higher and you’ll wrinkle it.”

“My boobs will fall out,” Marie told her, and laid the flat of her hand atop the swell of her breasts. She’d never worn a dress cut so low and knew that she’d have pneumonia before the end of the night. Figures that Gina’s dress would be cut low enough to display all of her charms.

How had she let herself be talked into wearing the slinky red number? But even as she thought it, she knew the answer. Because just for tonight she wanted to be more than she usually was. Just for tonight she wanted to be the homecoming queen, the prom princess and Miss America all rolled into one.

“Your boobs will
not
fall out,” Gina told her with a grin. “But if you’re lucky, they may be helped to escape.”

“Gina…” Mama’s voice sounded stern, but they all knew the woman had long since given up trying to rein in her youngest daughter.

“If they don’t freeze and break off before then,” Marie whispered.

Angela picked up a tube of lipstick and a tiny brush, then turned Marie’s face toward her. “God knows, I hate to agree with Gina on anything, but honestly, Marie, it’s high time you did something like this.”

“Amen,” Gina muttered, and jabbed Marie’s skull with a rhinestone barrette.

Marie winced and tried to pull away. Angela’s fingers tightened on her chin.

“You’re a pretty girl,” Mama said. “You should make the most of it.”

“By wearing enough paint to hide my identity?” Marie asked, giving a sideways glance into the mirror. Hmm. The rhinestones looked kind of nice the way they held back a wave of curls and twinkled against her dark hair.

“To accentuate your inner beauty,” Gina said, making her voice high and pompous.

Inner beauty. Right. What all men were interested in.

Angela finished painting on lipstick and released her chin. Then she studied Marie’s face as though it was a just finished work of art. “Good,” she said to herself before reaching for the tiny bottle of expensive perfume she’d brought with her.

Leaning forward, she dabbed some of the luxurious scent behind each of Marie’s ears, then handed her the crystal stopper. “Touch the scent between your breasts,” she ordered.

Marie gripped the crystal tightly enough to snap it. This was getting out of hand, she thought for what had to be the hundredth time since submitting herself to her sisters’ care. “Isn’t it enough they’re exposed to the entire world? Do they have to smell, too?”

“Oh, brother,” Gina muttered as she jabbed another rhinestone barrette into place on the other side of Marie’s head. “All of this is wasted on you, you know that?”

“That’s enough, Gina,” Mama told her.

“Well, really,” the youngest Santini sister went on, curling some of Marie’s hair around her finger and smoothing it into place. “She’s Italian, for heaven’s sake! Hot-blooded, just like the rest of us.”

Oh, Marie thought, her blood was plenty hot and getting hotter every minute.

“Italian doesn’t mean sex crazed,” Angela chimed in.

“Then it’s been so long, you don’t remember,” Gina snapped.

“All right!” Mama clapped her hands and said, “That’s enough now. Marie will be who she is and—” she looked into the mirror to meet her middle daughter’s gaze “—that’s more than enough for any man.”

Marie gave her a soft smile and, touched, whispered, “Thanks, Mama.”

The older woman smiled back and lifted one hand to emphasize her next point. “Though that’s not to say that a little advertising doesn’t hurt. Now put that perfume where your sister told you to. And Gina, I really don’t want to know about your hot blood, all right?”

“None of us do,” Angela added.

“Jealous,” Gina told them. “You’re all jealous.”

Marie dutifully touched the stopper to the valley between her breasts and shivered at the feel of the cold glass against her heated skin. When she handed
the perfume back to her sister, she took a last look at herself in the mirror.

It was her reflection and yet so different.

“Nice, huh?” Gina said, admiring her handiwork.

“Nice nothing,” Angela said. “She’s gorgeous.”

“She always has been,” Mama put in.

Marie stared at herself for a long moment, then took a deep breath that swelled her breasts high enough to convince her not to do
that
real often, and stood up. “Okay, I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Wait’ll Davis gets a load of you,” Gina said with a grin.

Angela smiled and reached out to smooth the skirt of Marie’s dress. “His eyes’ll pop out, honey.”

Marie’s eyes suddenly stung with the threat of tears. She’d never done this before. Shared a feminine bonding session over makeup and clothes with her sisters and her mother. It felt strange, and…good.

“Don’t you
dare
get all weepy and ruin your makeup,” Gina warned sternly.

Marie laughed, as she was meant to, and thought maybe they were right. Maybe it was high time for her to come out from under her overalls and take a look at the world through female eyes.

A knock at the door sounded.

And maybe, she thought with a sharp pang of
insecurity, it wasn’t too late to cancel this whole thing.

“He’s here,” Gina said unnecessarily.

“Oh, God,” Marie whispered through a suddenly tight throat.

“You look wonderful, Marie,” Mama said as she crossed the room to hug her. “Now don’t worry about a thing. Just be yourself.”

Marie knew it was good advice, but how could she be herself when she didn’t even look like herself? Nope. That wouldn’t work. Tonight she would be someone else. Someone as hot-blooded as Gina. Someone as beautiful as Angela. Someone as confident as Mama.

Tonight she was the best of all the Santini women—and the Marie she’d always secretly yearned to be.

D
avis knocked on the door again and couldn’t help wondering if she’d changed her mind again. Maybe she wouldn’t go out with him at all. And maybe, he told himself, they’d be accompanied by one of her sisters. Or her mother. Or Jeremy.

He’d never before been involved with a woman so devoted to family. And he still wasn’t sure he liked it.

Overhead, a clear winter sky gleamed with millions of stars, and the ever-present ocean wind pushed at him with its cold breath. He stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and wished his suit coat was warmer.

Then the door opened and every thought in his head, but one…dissolved.

Beautiful. Marie Santini was absolutely the most breathtaking woman he’d ever seen. Backlit by a solitary lamp, her dark hair shone around the glittering clips holding the thick mass back from her face. For the first time since he’d known her, she was wearing makeup, but only enough to emphasize the beauty of her eyes and the lush fullness of her lips. A soft floral scent reached out to him, and he inhaled it greedily as his gaze drifted down and over her. His heart lurched a bit and his breathing quickened as he admired the swell of her breasts above the low neckline of her dress. Long red sleeves encased her slender arms and the short hem of the dress swirled around a pair of amazing legs.

Slowly he lifted his gaze again until he was looking into her green eyes. Then he smiled, shook his head and said, “Lady, you’re incredible.”

She smiled and lifted her chin a bit higher, giving her hair a shake. “Thank you. Tonight I
feel
incredible.”

And he felt lucky. So damned lucky, he was sure something would go wrong.

“Are you ready?” he asked, and held out one hand toward her.

“As I’ll ever be,” she said, and picked up her coat from a nearby chair. Then she stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her.

That scent of hers enveloped him, and Davis had all he could do to keep from grabbing her and pulling her close. He wanted to taste her mouth again. But they had a dinner reservation to keep. Which was too bad, since the only thing he was hungry for was her.

Small bouquets of holly and poinsettias decorated every table, and in the far corner of the restaurant a fire blazed on the brick-faced hearth. The soft clink of crystal and the hush of muted conversations drifted through the room, but Davis paid no attention to any of it. He only had eyes for Marie.

Unfortunately so did their waiter.

At the thought of him, the man appeared with their dessert, and keeping his fascinated gaze locked on Marie, damn near dumped a slice of apple pie into Davis’s lap.

“Hey!” he said, and caught the china plate just in time.

The waiter spared him a fast glance and a less-than-apologetic shrug. “Sorry.” Then shifting his gaze back to the object of his affections, he asked, “Would you like more coffee, miss?”

Davis gritted his teeth. He was used to other men admiring his dates. What he wasn’t used to was this smattering of anger that churned in his guts every time the waiter drooled on Marie. Jealousy? he wondered, surprised at himself. Hell, he’d never been
jealous before and had even laughed at his friends when they described the ugly emotions he was now experiencing. But damn it, there was nothing funny about watching a stranger ogling Marie.

“Coffee?” the waiter asked again, and Davis prepared to scoot out of range.

She gave him a small smile and shook her head, “No, thanks.”

As the man walked away, Davis said, “I appreciate your turning down the coffee. Otherwise, I might get third-degree burns in an area I’d rather keep unharmed.”

Marie chuckled. “I think he’s sweet.”

“You would,” he said, giving the man’s back a hard look. “He didn’t dump a salad in your lap.”

“At least it was served with dressing on the side,” she said on a laugh.

True, he thought. Instead of picking dry lettuce off his slacks, he could have been doused with blue cheese dressing.

“And have you recovered from the waiter’s slip?” she asked, laying her forearms on the linen-covered tabletop and leaning forward. Her movement gave him an excellent view of the breasts he’d been trying all evening not to stare at.

Recovered? he thought. Hell, no. He was sinking fast.

“I’ll live as long as he doesn’t come back with some flaming dessert.”

She laughed again and he found himself enjoying the sound.

“This was really nice, Davis,” she said, dragging his attention back to her face and the eyes that haunted him. “Thank you for bringing me.”

“I’ve been trying to get you to go out with me since I met you,” he reminded her.

“Was it worth the wait?” she asked, a teasing note in her voice.

“Oh,” he said with a slight nod, “definitely.”

“Good.” She picked up a spoon and took a small bite of sherbet. Her lips closed over the icy sweet, and he watched her sigh as the flavors dissolved on her tongue.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and was privately grateful that the room was so dimly lit. Otherwise he’d have to keep his suit coat buttoned when they left, to avoid embarrassing himself.

“How long have you been a marine?”

“Hmm?” He shook his head to clear it. “What?”

She grinned at him. “I asked how long you’ve been a marine.”

“Oh.” Keep your mind on the conversation, he thought. “Forever.”

“That long?” Marie smiled and took another bite of sherbet. “You look pretty good for your advanced age.”

And he was aging by the minute, thinking about her and him and what he’d rather they be doing
instead of sitting here making polite conversation. “Thanks, I think.”

She licked her spoon, and the slow swipe of her tongue did incredible things to his pulse rate.

“So how long really?” she asked.

“Close to fifteen years,” he managed to say.

“Are you a lifer?” she asked, dipping that spoon back into the sherbet he was beginning to envy.

“Yeah,” he said, tearing his gaze from her mouth and the sensuous way she ate the damned dessert. “Always figured to be in for the long haul.”

“Really? There’s nothing else you’d want to do?”

For one brief minute, Davis thought about his old dream of opening a car-restoration place. Heck, he had several different cars tucked away in various storage garages across the country. Wherever he was stationed, he’d buy an old junker and slowly restore it himself. He’d always told himself it was a hobby, but the truth was it gave him something to do when he wasn’t on duty. A man with no family and ties had too much free time.

He’d never told anyone else about that old dream, and even though somehow he knew that Marie would be encouraging, he just couldn’t form the words to tell her.

“No.” Davis shook his head and pushed the slice of apple pie to one side. “I like moving around. I
don’t know if I could stand staying in one place too long.”

“Funny,” she mused, and pushed her unfinished sherbet aside. “I don’t know that I could relocate as much as you do.” She shook her head slowly. “A new home every few years? No place to call your own?”

“Root-bound, huh?” he teased.

“And you’re rootless,” she said softly.

“I guess there’s no middle ground between the two, huh?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” she said softly.

He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. The quick flash of heat that erupted when they touched warmed him through as he asked, “Haven’t you ever wanted to just…take off? Move somewhere new?”

“Take off?” she repeated.

“Yeah. Go somewhere where no one knows you.”

Marie shook her head. “No. Why would I?”

Davis frowned and linked their fingers together. “To be on your own. Alone to do whatever you want.”

She smiled at him, but her eyes looked confused. “I already have that.”

“Do you?” he asked. “I’ve known you several days and I almost never see you without Jeremy or Gina or your mom….”

“They’re my family,” she protested.

She didn’t understand, and he knew he shouldn’t have expected her to. She hadn’t grown up being shuttled from place to place. She hadn’t learned early that “he travels fastest who travels alone.” There was no way she could possibly know the benefits of having no one to lay claim to your time. Your life.

“Quicksand,” he muttered.

“What?”

He inhaled deeply and linked his fingers with hers. Her thumb stroked the back of his hand and a part of his mind concentrated solely on the sensations she was stirring within him.

“Families,” he said thickly. “I’ve always thought of them as quicksand.” Explaining, he went on. “Stay too close and they suck you in and then under. You’re trapped. Never free to be whoever you might want to be.”

Marie watched him and tried to read his expression, but it seemed Davis Garvey had had too many years to learn to hide what he was thinking. She couldn’t understand his feelings about family and thought his way seemed a lonely way to live.

Instantly images of her family rose up in her mind and she knew that without them, her life would be an empty thing.

“I’ve always thought of my family as a lifeboat,” she said quietly, trying to ease the shadow of old pain from his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“You know,” she said, continuing to stroke the back of his hand with her thumb, “a safety net, sort of. Where each of us is there to help the other. To back each other up in times of trouble and to cheer for each other when things are great. Mama says that home is a place that, when you go there, they have to let you in.”

He didn’t say anything and Marie asked quietly, “Where’s your safety net, Davis?”

He gave her hand a squeeze, then released her and reached for the leather folder that held their bill. Giving her a smile that didn’t quite hide the shadows still lurking in his eyes, he said, “I guess right now it’s Camp Pendleton.”

As he glanced at the bill and counted out the appropriate amount of money, she asked, “I know you said you don’t have a family. But surely there’s someone?”

“Just the corps,” he said, then must have noticed the sympathy in her eyes. “Don’t bother feeling sorry for me,” he said with a half smile. “Quicksand, remember?”

“Yes,” she said, “I remember.” But she couldn’t help wondering if he’d still feel that way if there was a family standing beside him.

She’d seen his patience and kindness with Jeremy and his friendliness toward her sisters and her mother. Marie had a feeling that Davis Garvey didn’t even
realize how starved for family he really was. This was a man who’d obviously spent so much of his life alone, he’d come to believe that it was the only way to live.

Her heart ached just a little for the man who had so much to give and no one to give it to.

While Davis settled their bill, Marie waited on the wooden deck that stretched along behind the row of restaurants lining the harbor. The cold, sea-kissed breeze whipped around her, sending her skirt hem into a wild dance around her thighs.

She tipped her face into the wind and felt the sting of salt air caress her cheeks and chest with dampness. With her earlier worries about pneumonia banished along with the rest of her rational mind, she let her coat hang open so that the wind could wrap itself around her.

“You must be freezing,” Davis said as he came up behind her.

Startled, she turned to look at him, and in the soft glow of the deck lights, she saw his eyes darken as he stared at her. Maybe a part of her should be offended that he was so obviously attracted to the “new and improved” Marie—the stranger she was tonight. But watching his eyes as he watched her sent spirals of heat unwinding throughout her body. A slow, deep ache settled low in her belly, and it felt as though
an iron band was wrapped tightly around her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

He draped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. Her back to his front, she felt the hard, solid strength of him, and a skittering of heat dazzled her bloodstream. This was something elemental. A powerful connection lay between them and this was the night Marie had decided to explore it. To discover what she’d always dreamed of discovering. To find in Davis’s arms the magic she knew other women had found.

His arms came around her and they stood, staring out at the harbor. The luxury homes across the water sparkled with thousands of twinkling Christmas lights. Reflections of those lights shone on the black water, looking as though handfuls of multicolored stars had fallen from the sky.

From somewhere far off, the muted strains of “Silent Night” drifted toward them. Marie’s breath caught in her throat. It was all so beautiful. So perfect.

He held her tighter and she shivered.

“You
are
cold,” he whispered close to her ear, and the brush of his warm breath on her flesh made her tremble.

Cold? She didn’t think she’d ever be cold again. Not with the fires blazing inside her.

“No,” she whispered with a shake of her head, “I’m not cold. I’m…”

“What?” He turned her in his arms and held her tightly, pressing her body into his.

Looking down into her eyes, he captured her gaze and held it until Marie thought she might drown in the crystal-blue depths that held so many secrets and so much warmth.

How could it be possible she’d known him only a few days? At that moment, she felt as though she’d always known him. That a part of her had always been waiting for him. And it didn’t matter anymore that he would leave her one day. All that mattered now was that tonight, for now, he was hers. And she suddenly wanted to be his.

“Marie?” he asked, and lifted one hand to smooth his fingertips along her cheek.

She swallowed heavily and closed her eyes briefly at the sensation of warmth trickling from his fingers into her soul. Looking at him again, she said only, “Kiss me, Davis.”

“My pleasure,” he whispered, and bent his head to claim her mouth.

Gently at first, his lips met hers. Softly, tenderly, he kissed her as the wind raced around them, binding them together in an icy embrace. Then he cupped her cheek with his palm and deepened that kiss, entering her mouth when she sighed, his tongue caressing her warmth, stealing her breath.