Deception (Infidelity #3)(92)
“So,” Antonio asked, “what are you doing with Lennox?”
My head sprang back in surprise. “I-I…”
As I fought for words, Antonio went on, “My wife, she die two years ago.” He motioned dramatically toward his chest. “I’m available.” He gestured around the room. “All this could be yours. Say the word.”
My smile grew. “That’s quite the offer, Antonio.” I leaned slightly forward. “Maybe you and I should talk when Lennox isn’t around.”
Nox’s fingers inched upward, staking his claim as well as making it difficult for me to keep my concentration on Antonio.
Antonio winked and nudged Nox’s shoulder. “I like her. You hold on to this one.” He lowered his tone. “If he doesn’t…” Antonio was speaking to me. “…you call me.”
I placed my hand over Nox’s to stop its ascension. “I will keep that in mind.”
“Dolcetto?” Antonio asked Nox.
“Si.”
It was only one simple word, yet the way the Italian rolled from Nox’s lips, caused me to turn and look at him anew.
“Subito,” Antonio replied with a grin and turned away.
“You speak Italian?” I asked with more than a bit of awe to my voice.
“Princess, we’ve yet to explore my large array of talents. Speaking of which…” Nox’s fingers grazed the lace top of one of the stockings and a low murmur resonated from his throat. Just as he began to move his fingers higher, Antonio reappeared, a bottle of wine in his hand and two glasses. Next to Antonio was a young woman carrying a large plate with antipasto—meats, olives, mushrooms, anchovies, artichoke hearts and a variety of cheeses and two smaller plates.
While Antonio spoke, uncorked the bottle, and poured a small amount of wine into one of the glasses, the pad of Nox’s finger moved back and forth over the clasp connecting the garter belt with the stockings. As Antonio handed Nox the glass, Nox unsnapped the clasp and moved his hand to secure the goblet offered. The small elastic strap sprang from the stockings, causing me to jump with an embarrassing, audible gasp.
Pink flooded my cheeks as Antonio asked, “Signorina, you no like vino?”
“I do.” My response came too fast as Nox’s pale eyes danced with navy. Mischief filled his expression as he took a sip of the wine and drank in my embarrassment.
“Perfect,” Nox announced, before lifting the same glass to my lips.
Obediently, I sipped the medium-bodied red wine, allowing it to linger on my tongue. It wasn’t nearly as thick as a cabernet and had a slightly tangy flavor. After swallowing, I nodded in agreement. “Delicious.”
“The primo?” Antonio asked.
“Antonio,” Nox said with a shake of his head. “Nothing but the lasagna. You know it’s my favorite.”
“Si,” he said, and again he was gone.
Nox’s eyes sparkled with the reflection of the flickering candle as he poured wine into both glasses. “You seem a little jumpy, princess?”
I shook my head. “Dick,” I muttered under my breath.
Nox leaned closer. “Keep begging, beautiful. You’ll have it.”
Young ladies came and went, bringing glasses and water as well as clearing away the antipasto. Next, the lasagna arrived. Visually it was as appealing as Nox had promised, but it was the aroma that had my mouth watering. When I reached for my fork, Nox shook his head.
Unsure what he’d meant, I pulled my hands back to my lap. Nox took his fork and cut off a corner of our second course. Before offering me a bite, he reached for my water glass. Lifting it to my lips he said, “Drink.”
My tummy fluttered with butterfly wings as I did as he said.
“Cleansing the palate,” he explained.
Pouting his full lips, Nox blew gently on the combination of warm noodles, cheeses, and sauces, and then he directed the fork toward me. “Close your eyes and open your mouth.”
Such a simple request, yet his words made the butterflies in my tummy turn to bats as both of my hungers screamed for fulfillment. Dutifully I lowered my lids and opened my lips.
The lasagna was heaven, just as Nox had said. It enticed my tongue just before I swallowed, and the deliciousness made its way toward my stomach to feed and hopefully calm the ravenous bats. When I was certain I couldn’t eat another bite, the young ladies returned, one with a platter of chicken and fish and the other with an assortment of vegetables.
I shook my head after they walked away. “Are you trying to make me fat?”
“No, princess. I’m making sure you have the sustenance to endure all that I have planned for the evening.”
My breath caught in my lungs as I lifted my fork piled with broccoli and zucchini. “I’m not sure I can anymore. After all of this food, I may be sleeping.”
Nox leaned closer, his hand back on my thigh. His fingers splayed. “I’m most confident I can keep you awake.”
When the tray of cannolis, tiramisu, biscuits, and slivers of cheesecake arrived, I helplessly shook my head. “No, I can’t.”
Nox graciously declined the dolce—the sweet ending to our meal—explaining that we were too full to eat another bite. It was Antonio who insisted that he box them up and we take them home.
Moments later we were back in the sedan with a Styrofoam box of delectable delights.