Ringing in Love (13 page)

They were almost to the sidewalk when he realized kissing her had made him miss something. “You didn't say goodbye to Noah. And I didn't say hi to him.”

“He's with his dad until Sunday. Last-minute thing, as usual.”

With his dad for the weekend. Dominic's heartbeat ratcheted up at the thought of what it might mean.

When they got to the Escalade, he could see from the look on Jack's face that his driver was gobstruck, too. “Wow, Catherine. You look great.”

She smiled, allowed him to help her into the car and said, “Thank you, Jack. It's one of those ‘I feel pretty' nights. I'm flattered you noticed.”

“I'd have to be blind not to notice.”

Dominic slid onto the seat beside her. “Enough. I don't employ you to flirt with my date.”

“Not flirting, Dominic. Only telling it like it is. Don't you agree she's a knockout?”

“I already told her how beautiful she is. How beautiful she always is.” Dominic took her hand and squeezed it.

“There's hope for you yet. Keep it up so I get to see her again,” Jack said as he started the engine.

“And once again, you two, I'm here, I'm not asleep, and I'm embarrassed. Can we get to the Academy?” Catherine asked.

In unison, the two men said, “Yes, ma'am,” and Jack headed out.

• • •

The line of cabs, limos, and luxury cars trying to reach the Grand Old Lady of Locust Street was long. Creeping along for ten minutes got them less than a block closer to the entrance, so Dominic and Catherine got out and walked.

It was a crisp fall night. The sidewalk was crowded with men and women in formal dress, all headed in the same direction, an air of celebration about them. Dominic offered Catherine his arm. She thanked him for helping her navigate the sidewalk in stilettos. In truth, he hadn't been thinking of her. He'd been thinking of himself. With her arm tucked through his, she was so close he could feel the warmth of her body, smell her perfume, touch her hand, her arm, her shoulder. Her breast was pressed against his arm.

And without trying, there he was, back in her entry hall when he'd felt those breasts against his chest. It wouldn't do to have the same reaction he'd had then. Not here, in front of her and this crowd of politically connected, culturally interested, and socially prominent Philadelphians. He had to clear his mind. Think of the music they'd be hearing inside, not the music he'd heard when she'd moaned in his arms and molded her body to his as they'd kissed. The sound of what he could only hope he'd hear when he had her in his bed. The sound … oh, hell, he needed something to distract him or this would be more embarrassing than anything since high school.

He landed on, “I was thinking. Since you don't have to be home early, maybe we could do something later, after the reception to honor our guest from Italy.”

“Did you have something in mind?”

“A drink? Dancing? What would you like to do?”

“Dessert, maybe.”

Apparently he hadn't told her about the desserts waiting for them at the reception. Either that or she was seriously addicted to sweets. But he wasn't going to argue about it. If she wanted more dessert, he'd get it for her. “Great. Anything specific?”

“Well, I was thinking … maybe … maybe tiramisu would be nice.”

He wasn't sure if he would first choke on his tongue or trip on a crack in the pavement. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to avoid one and swallowed hard to avert the other. The crowd of opera patrons surging around them disappeared into some other dimension, and he could see only her big, dark eyes full of amusement. “Tiramisu? Do you mean …?”

She lowered her thick eyelashes as if abashed, although her wicked smile said something else. “Have you forgotten already? The code?”

“Hell, no, I haven't forgotten. But I wasn't expecting … I mean, are you sure?” He frowned as an unwanted thought crossed his mind. “You don't think you owe me something, do you? For the evening? For getting Noah in the program?”

“Don't insult us both, Dominic. Of course I don't.” He opened his mouth to respond, but she went on. “I was this close,” she held up one hand with her thumb and forefinger a half-inch apart, “this close to saying it when we were in Fairmount Park before all hell broke loose. I've been waiting since then for another chance. Tonight's the first time it's been possible. Are you turning me down?”

“Do you think I've lost my mind? Of course I'm not turning you down. But, Jesus, Catherine, your timing leaves something to be desired. Couldn't you have waited until after the performance? Between the kiss in your entryway and this, you have now presented me with the one thing that would deter me from hearing this performance. I want to grab you, call Jack, and get to my apartment in the next ten minutes.”

She laughed as she looked over his shoulder. “We can't. There are at least three people coming toward us who look like they want to talk to you.”

As if to prove her point, the mayor approached. “Dominic, good to see you. I hoped you'd be here. I wanted to thank you for the work you did for the Police Athletic League.”

“Nice to see you, too, Mister Mayor. And thank you. We enjoyed doing the campaign.” He put his hand at the small of Catherine's back. “Do you know Catherine Bennett? Catherine, Mayor Thompson.”

The mayor took her hand and smiled. “Of course I know the beautiful Ms. Bennett. She did the rollout for the Green Tech incubator space. Nice to see you again, Catherine.”

“Lovely evening, isn't it, Mayor?” Catherine asked as she shook his hand.

“It is, indeed.” The mayor's eyebrows went a good distance toward his hairline as he smirked. “So, which one of you is scoping out the competition by spending the evening with the other? It strikes me as something you'd be more likely to do, Dominic.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Mister Mayor, but this is purely personal.”

“Don't blame you. I'd ask her out, too, if I had an understanding wife.” The mayor's attention was distracted by something he was looking at beyond the couple. “You'll have to forgive me. I see my most obstreperous council member haranguing a perfectly innocent supporter of mine. I need to ride to the rescue. Enjoy the evening.”

“Purely personal, is it?” Catherine said when the mayor was out of earshot. “And here I thought I was such a threat to your business you had to keep me close—you know, the keep-your-friends-close-and-your-enemies-closer thing?”

He kissed her temple. “Never your enemy, Catherine. And more than your friend, I hope.”

She looked up with such desire in her eyes, his knees almost buckled. “I hope so too, Dominic.”

They made their way into the Academy and up to a box that seated a half dozen people. When she asked who else would be joining them, he said no one would. He liked to be alone when he came to the opera, not distracted by other people who wanted to talk during the performance, which too many people did. And his financial support of the opera gave him the luxury of getting first crack at the good seats.

He let her choose her seat, then moved another of the gilt chairs close to hers. The buzz of the crowd grew louder as people began to fill up the main floor below and the boxes around them. Dominic used the cover of the noise to kiss Catherine's shoulder and whisper, “However, I don't object to being distracted with conversation before the opera begins. In fact, I have a question I'd like to ask you.”

“Sure. What do you want to know?”

“How do you like to be seduced?”

Her startled reaction was rewarding. “What?”

“I think I was clear about my request. How do you like to be …?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Because I want to get it right. There are a lot of ways to seduce a woman and …”

“And you know them all?” The tone of her voice was amused even though he'd been going for excited.

“No, but it's much more enjoyable when both parties agree on what they like.” He traced a line over her collarbone with his forefinger. “For example, I like the feel of your skin. Do you like to be seduced with touch?” His finger moved from her collarbone down to the top of her breast. “Like this?”

Her sharp intake of breath was all he needed to continue his explorations. With the softest of touches, he moved from her chest, up her neck to her chin then to the curve of her ear and the soft lobe. He could see her nipples peaking through the drape of her dress.

“Or shall I
tell
you how soft your skin is? Seduce you with words. By saying how much I want to touch your breasts the way I'm touching your ear. How much I want to see if your thighs are as soft and smooth as …”

“Dominic, please.”

“Please, what,
cara
?”

“Please … I don't … I don't know.” She moved restlessly in her seat, tried to put space between them, but he wouldn't let her. “Don't tease me like this.”

“I'm not teasing. I'm doing research for later.” He kissed her temple. “How about seduction by kissing?” He began to give her light, butterfly kisses from her temple to her cheek, to her ear and her neck. His hand moved across the span of her waist, and he pulled her against him, her back to his chest. With the other hand he moved her hair to one side so he could nibble at her neck and shoulder. He knew from the way she was breathing, from the way her head was thrown back, he'd achieved his goal. She was excited.

Then the lights went down and the orchestra began to play the overture.

• • •

Jesus, what the hell was she supposed to do now? It was her turn to want to call Jack and get to Dominic's apartment as quickly as they could. Never had she been so completely and thoroughly aroused with the brush of a mouth on her skin, a soft touch or the whisper of words. The man was living up to Melody's nickname, and they were still fully dressed and in a box at the opera. Maybe she was taking on more than she could handle with him. Maybe Melody was right about that.

Focus. She had to focus on what was happening on stage. Dominic didn't make it easy. Although he had released her and settled back into his seat, he still had his arm around the back of her chair and was moving his thumb up and down on the back of her neck. Little sparks were constantly igniting on her skin. Her breasts ached, and a curl of desire wound its way through her body.

If she was going to survive the evening, she had to do something. She moved forward slightly, took his arm from around her, and placed his hand on her knee, where she held it in as safe a place as she could find. Not that there was much safe on a body tingling from his touch.

The expression on his face was both smug and sensual. “Is something wrong, Catherine?”

“If I'm going to enjoy this performance, it would be better to have your hand where I can see it. Maybe even control it so it doesn't … can't … do what it's been doing to me.”

He leaned over and whispered, “Touching you does the same thing to me. And I like it.”

“Shouldn't we respect the performers enough to pay attention? After all, you paid a fortune for this box.”

He smiled. “Ah, yes. Respect for the performers. You're right.” He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I'll behave.”

“Thank you.” She knew she sounded schoolmarmish, but it worked. Now she might get through the opera without melting into a puddle of lust at his feet.

The man was sex on legs, sex on a chair, sex in an SUV, sex wherever he was.

During the first intermission, Dominic and Catherine had left their box for a glass of wine, but the constant interruption of people who wanted to talk to her date convinced Catherine to stay in her seat during the last break between acts. And maybe, while he was gone, think of something other than how damned hot the man was.

But she didn't have a chance to catch her breath. A steady stream of people “dropped by” the box, apparently to see who Dominic was with. At least, that's what it seemed like. One client of hers who came by did everything but ask outright why Catherine was with her competitor. Several acquaintances subtly made sure Catherine knew they were surprised to see whom she was with. Others said they were only there to “say hi” to Dominic, though they could have seen from anyplace in the Academy that he wasn't in the box. She felt like she was being inspected by half the audience, whether to see if she was worthy of Dominic or crazy for being with him, she didn't know.

After the tenth, fifteenth, twentieth—she lost count—person “just came by to give my regards to Dominic,” she'd had it. Since she didn't have the materials in her purse for a sign saying, “He's in the lobby,” she decided escape was the next best option. She went to the ladies room. Surely no one would bother her there.

Locked inside a stall where she vowed to remain until she heard the signal to end the intermission, she thought she was safe. Then a conversation between two women waiting in line whose voices she didn't recognize floated over the top of the door.

“Did you see Dominic Russo up there in his box? Showing off with yet another woman. He didn't even wait until the lights went out to kiss her.”

“Of course I saw him. He makes sure we all see him, doesn't he? I mean, buying a whole box for himself and his bimbo. Really?”

“He's always up there by himself, showing off his money or his women. I don't recognize this one. But then, I don't recognize most of them. For a man who knows all the right people, he doesn't seem to care about the woman he's with. All he cares about, I swear, is whether she looks good on his arm for the event and in his bed afterward.”

“This one won't last any longer than the others, I guarantee. He goes through women faster than I go through tissues in ragweed season.”

There was a round of nasty laughs, which abruptly ceased when Catherine opened the stall door and, head high, walked to the washbasin. She was gratified to see the embarrassed expressions on the faces of the two women. Even more gratified to see the looks of horror when she ripped tissues from the box on the sink and dropped them into their hands saying, “Here, in case you ran out what with all the ragweed around. The last act's a tearjerker.”