Neighbors and More (High Rise Series) (2 page)

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Did you?”

Unfortunately, she hadn’t forgotten their last dinner at
Aruba
restaurant on the beach, their walk on the sand by moonlight, and their last
drink on the balcony of his condo. A drink intermingled with music, dance, and passionate
kisses that left her hungry for more. No, she hadn’t forgotten a single minute of
their time together or his promise to call every day and come back to her soon.
Good thing she hadn’t completely lost her head and tumbled into bed with him
before he left.

Squinting at him, she summoned an assertive calm she was far
from feeling. “What problems?”

“I had to help my grandmother after my grandfather passed. It’s
too complicated to explain.”

Explain about his grandfather, or one of the pretty women
from his old country and his past? But a few kisses under a full moon didn’t
give her the right to be jealous.

Dropping on the edge of her bed, she scrutinized his face
for telltale signs of lies. “Is your grandmother sick?”

“No, she’s fine.
Nonna
is a strong woman who always stood
by her husband, but often imposed her own decisions.” Dante paused, his mouth
twitching. “Suffice it to say, some local maf... I mean scum tried to drag my grandfather’s
reputation through the mud. It took me two full months to clear our family name.”

“You still have an active Mafia in Sicily?” She hadn’t
missed the word he’d tried to swallow back.

“There are bad guys everywhere in the world.” In other
words, he wouldn’t elaborate on his grandfather’s possible connection to the Mafia.

Warning bells rang in her head. After she’d married a tyrant
who was twenty-five years older than her, and recently struggled to keep a
harassing jerk at bay, could she trust the grandson of a
mafioso
?

His scowl faded, replaced by a poker face. “Anyway, it wasn’t
a fun trip, my dear. I’m not going back soon.” He shrugged, dismissing the
personal subject. “Too much work waiting for me here. Besides, I missed you.” He
pulled her back into his arms.

The easy grin lifting the corner of his lips melted her
insides, and his eyes darkened with desire, sending her pulse into overdrive. He
was going to kiss her again and she wanted him to. With her belly flattened
against his firm abs and his bare legs rubbing hers, her body tingled in
anticipation.

To hell with the Mafia. Her head reeling, she laced her
fingers behind his nape. He tugged her lower lip between his and sucked on it, his
palm caressing and kneading her back.

That felt so good. But...

She sighed and drew back. “No. Not like this.”

He released her and frowned. “Why not,
mia
bella
?
I think we both want it. Isn’t it time we started a relationship?”

Boy, she could tell he was hard for her. “Mmm…” Pushing him,
she poked her finger into his chest. “No,” she snapped. “We still have a lot to
discuss.”

He probably didn’t want her heart, just the generous D-cups
above it. Like all Italians, he excelled at flattery.

“Ouch.” His fingers enfolded her hand and firmly held it.
“We’ll talk later.”

“Easy to say. You go away and come back, ready to pick up as
if…”

He smiled smugly.

She bit her lip, not knowing how to phrase her frustration
without revealing too much of her eagerness. He already oozed self-confidence,
compliments of her brazen response to his kisses. “As if I should be at your
beck and call, waiting for the moment you show up, so I can fall again into
your arms.”

Which was exactly what I did, damn it
. She couldn’t
tumble into bed with him and later regret her bout of lust for months. But she
wanted a night in Dante’s arms. A night of love, not of lust. She’d had her
share of lust-without-feelings with her ex.

A banging interrupted her. Dante spun toward the bedroom
door. “What’s that?”

She stiffened. “Damn it.”

“Someone’s at your door.”

“I’ll get it and be right back.” She checked herself in the
mirror and smoothed her hair. Another knock on the door grated on her nerves.

 “I bet it’s your ex.”

“Probably.” Her recent euphoria died as she remembered the
turmoil brewing outside her little haven.

“You should tell him to stop barging in without an
invitation.”

Why was Greg here, now? Couldn’t he ever let her enjoy a
moment of happiness away from him? She wanted her moment. She wanted Dante. Why
was she fighting her desire for the man of her dreams?

A quick look at him had her groaning. All male and handsome,
he lusted for her and his scorching gaze promised to take her to heaven and
back. “Well, hurry up. It’s not particularly exciting to imagine you with your
ex.”

As if to confirm it, another knock pounded loudly. After closing
her bedroom door, she rushed toward the living room.

“Coming,” she called between gritted teeth.

I hate you, Greg Partson
.

****

Alexa skated to the front door and pulled it open while blocking
the doorway.

“What took you so long?” The assessing gleam in Greg’s gray eyes
turned suspicious as he peered above her shoulder and scanned the living room.

She frowned and mentally cursed her ex-husband’s lousy
timing. “I’m getting dressed to go to the beach,” she said, determined not to
let him step in. His gaze lingered on her breasts generously displayed by her
green bikini bra and flowered sheer top, prompting her to cross her arms and
conceal her décolletage.

Struggling to control her rising temper, she stabbed him
with a stern look. “Why are you here?”

“I came to see if you were okay.” His voice oozed with
saccharine sweetness. “And tell you—”

 “I’m fine.” Damn it, she was fine a few minutes ago, but
he’d spoiled her mood at the worst possible moment. She plastered on a
perfunctory smile and held herself rooted to block the entrance, her hands gripping
the door and its frame. “Get to the point.”

“I just came to tell you a detective will meet us at eight
in the conference room.”

“I’ll be there.”

“He’ll interview the condo owners who saw the deceased
recently.” Greg leaned forward and grabbed her shoulders. “Was Steve Bairey
here last night or today?” His breath blasted with alcohol fumes.

Alexa almost gagged. She tilted her chin, refusing to lie
but hating Greg’s distrust. “Yes. Why?”

“What did Steve want?” They may have been divorced for three
years now, but her domineering ex-husband granted himself the right to keep
tabs on her personal life.

“Last night I didn’t let him in. Steve talked to me at the
door and asked me to reconsider my refusal to marry him.”

“Marry you?” Greg’s lips thinned to an angry line. “Without
even finalizing his divorce?”

She scoffed and shrugged free from his grip. “I’ve already mentioned
to you he’s been harassing me.”

“And as President of the Association I warned him to stay
away from you.” A muscle twitched at the base of his neck, but he recovered his
arrogant stance soon enough. “What about today? When did he come over?”

“I’ve had it with your inquisition. Do we need to discuss
this now?”

Dante was in her bedroom getting impatient.

Could she push Greg out? Physically push him out with her
fists and all her strength? How had she been able to withstand five long years married
to the autocratic sleaze ball? She hissed and tried to bang the door shut, but
he blocked it with his foot.

“Alexa, answer me, damn it.” His bellow made her jump. “Did
Steve come today?”

“Yes. Yes, he came two hours ago.”
Who cares when Dante is
here?

“Around two?” he specified after glancing at his watch.
“And?”

“I threatened to report him for harassment. But he said he
came to say goodbye.” She exhaled her exasperation. Greg focused a stern look
on her.

“Did he stay long?” Disapproval underlined his tone.

“For heaven’s sake, why all these questions?” She tapped her
foot, ready to kick it into Greg’s leg. Was he dense or what? He arched a
suspicious eyebrow. Understanding dawned on her. “Oh my God, you thought I
could have done something to ki... kill him? Is that why you’re bombarding me
with questions?” Alexa rubbed her neck to soothe the lump in her throat.

“Well, I remembered you saying once you wanted to kill him
for stalking you.”

“Are you crazy?” She glared at him with the temptation to
throw a punch at his face. “There is a difference between saying something in
anger and killing someone.”

Greg shrugged. “I just wanted to know if anything unusual
happened here. I mean before the detective questions you.”

“Thanks for your concern.” She snorted. “But it’s not fair
for Dianna that you keep coming here.” And for Dante who must be seething, locked
in her bedroom. She gritted her teeth and avoided glancing at the corridor that
led to her bedroom.

“Don’t worry about her. Dianna wants to become the third
Mrs. Partson. She knows that when I make a promise I keep it. I also promised
your father I’ll take care of you.”

As if she could care less about Dianna, or any prospective wife
of her ex. Her Sicilian friend was back in town after two long months and she
couldn’t wait to be back in his arms.

“And I’ll do it, whether we’re married or divorced,” Greg
continued with his usual authoritative voice.

 “Now, leave. I have things to do. Bye.”

Giving her a sarcastic smile, he extended a hand toward her
cheek. She pulled back before he connected. “You poor thing, you’re going
through so much. We don’t know what went wrong with Bairey. If it was a heart
attack, he could have died in your apartment.”

 She swallowed. “Well, he didn’t, so—”

“We don’t know exactly what happened. If…”

“Get out!” She pushed Greg and closed the door in his face.

If she’d let him babble any longer, he’d soon convince her she
was responsible for Steve’s death, and then he’d try to cheer her up.

Chapter Two

Dante had it with passively waiting while Alexa made small
talk with Greg Partson. It was astonishing how her fifty-something ex had
managed to convince her that she couldn’t function without his advice when he
continuously zoomed in his bifocals on her breasts. Why couldn’t she just shove
the two-faced lecher out of her place?

Dante wished he hadn’t stayed so long in Sicily. But he’d
had no choice. He needed to fix the mess his grandfather’s death had unraveled
and his connection to the Mafia. The old man had been a highly regarded
chairman of the board at several banks but surreptitiously continued the questionable
activities of his youth. Dante had trouble convincing the Sicilian police that
he had never been involved in his
nonno’s
secret business.

Now that he was back in the U.S., he needed to avoid any
activity that would attract the
paparazzi’s
curiosity, and later the
attention of the local and Sicilian police, or worse the Mafia’s retribution.
His grandmother was entitled to peace and security in her American home after
the turmoil they’d faced in the old country, and Dante would rather stay away
from any scandal that could hurt his career as a lawyer.

Determined to make it up to Alexa, he armed himself with
patience, admired her light and dark, pink striped walls, and stylish
furniture. Every piece boasted good taste, refined elegance, and the exorbitant
price—a reflection of Alexa’s world.

He glanced at his watch, sat on the side of the bed and fished
through the magazines stacked in a golden basket next to the bed post. He
selected one and flipped the pages. Why did it take her so long to throw Greg
out and come back?

After another peek at his watch, he strolled to the balcony
and contemplated the picture-perfect view of the Fort Lauderdale Intracoastal
and the intricate pattern of canals crossing the main waterway. At the moment,
his mind couldn’t assimilate artistic scenes, unless the art work related to
Alexa’s perfect curves, the rich golden highlights in her hair or the green
mystery of her eyes that hid yearning and vulnerability.

Dante checked his watch for the hundredth time. He stopped
pacing when the doorknob turned.

“Dante? Dante where are you?” Anxiety underlined her
questions.

He raised his wrist and tapped his watch. “Five minutes?”

“Huh… It takes time to persuade Greg he’s not welcome.”

“I noticed.” Guilt poked him like a stick. Poor Alexa, he
couldn’t blame her for his being stuck here in her bedroom seething while her
ex sniffed around her place like a dog after a bitch in heat.

“Dante, come back inside. Listen—”

“I’m sorry. I was frustrated, but so were you.” More than
ready to ignore the interruption, Dante pulled her against him and stroked the
long tresses cascading over her shoulders and down her back.

“I want to explain—”

“Let’s go back to where we were.” Patience was not his forte
when Alexa’s delectable form pressed against him, and her heady perfume enticed
him. Capturing her mouth, he scooped her up and walked inside the room, his
body throbbing with sexual need as her sweet floral scent enveloped him.
Sitting on the bed, he settled her on his lap while he continued to devour her
lips.

“Dante, please. Not now. We can’t...” She frantically shook
her head.

“Why not, darling?” He trailed kisses on her cheeks, her temple,
and jaw and nipped the sensitive skin of her throat. “We have all the time in
the world, now that your ex is gone. Forget everything but you and me.”

“I’ve been trying to.” She sighed and slid off his lap to
stand in front of him. Her head dropped in dejection. “I can’t anymore.”

“Why?” Stunned, Dante exhaled loudly. “What’s going on with the
selfish bastard?” He tipped her face up and peered into green eyes that had lost
their sparkle.