Read Online Nobody's Angel by Kallypso Masters - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kallypso Masters
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him. She planned to make this act so convincing there would be no doubt….
The melodious strains of Dean Martin’s “ Volare ” filled the air, instantly bringing tears to her eyes. She’d donated Papa’s record collection to Rico for his vintage jukebox because listening to them was so painful. That particular song transported her back in time.
“ Papa, my prom’s not till next year. Why are you giving me lessons now?”
“We never know how much time we have. My Papa taught your Aunt Maria, and now I will teach you.”
She didn’t have the heart to tell him she probably wouldn’t be dancing to music like Dean Martin’s at her prom; didn’t want to disappoint him.
“Now, put you hand here,” he placed it in the center of his back, “and hold my hand like this .”
“ Tesoro mio , what is wrong?” Marc asked.
My treasure? Pulled away from her bittersweet memories, Angelina looked up at Marc. She hadn’t felt like any man’s treasure since Papa was killed. She’d never slow danced with a man since Papa either. There had been no prom for Angelina. She realized her cheeks were wet with tears.
Marc’s hand curled under her chin to tilt her face toward his. She tried to blink away the remaining tears, but more spilled onto her cheeks. He looked over at Allen. Did she just hear him growl?
“No, it’s not him.” She waved her hands in front of her eyes, trying to dry them. Her forced laugh sounded harsh, but she needed to lighten the mood. “I’m fine. The song just reminded me of my Papa. Let’s just dance.” She tried to glance away from him, but he continued to hold her chin steady in his hand. Heat pooled in her lower abdomen.
Cupping her face in both of his hands, Marc brushed away her tears with the pads of his thumbs. After gazing deeply into her eyes, he seemed to accept that she wasn’t going to divulge any more details and reached for her hand, placing it over the curve of his butt. Much lower than Papa had shown her. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist and entwined her left hand into his right one before he pulled he closer, pressing their intermingled hands and forearms between their bodies. Very intimate for a total stranger. So why did being in his arms make her feel so safe?
As the music slowed and wrapped around her, she closed her eyes and relaxed her head against Marc’s shoulder. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he drew her even closer, whispering Italian endearments in her ear. She wasn’t as familiar with the nuances of the northern Italian dialect, but recognized enough to know he thought she was beautiful and sexy. His whiskers tickled her ear, causing yet another zing to ricochet through her body, going to ground on her clit.
Marc’s free hand slid up her back and into the keyhole opening of her sweater dress. Goosebumps broke out on her arms and her nipples hardened against his chest as his thumb and fingers stroked her bare skin. She forced herself to take a deeper breath. Good Lord, all he was doing was touching her back! What if he were…
Don’t go there, Angie! With her breasts pressed against him, she was thankful he couldn’t see her body’s response. But surely he felt the rapid pounding of her heart beating against the back of his hand, because she could feel his beating against her hand.
So right in his arms. If only this weren’t just a show for Allen’s benefit.
“That’s right, cars . Just feel,” he whispered.
Angelina stumbled and Marc tightened his arm around her. A memory having nothing to do with Papa or Marc flashed across her mind, of her being held safe and secure in the arms of her dream lover.
“ That’s right, cara. Just feel .”
As they moved, the music on the jukebox didn’t match their movements, but they seemed to be moving to their own music. Marc’s hand strayed down from the keyhole to trace circles over the curve of her butt. At first, she thought he’d wanted to make Allen jealous, but then she
The melodious strains of Dean Martin’s “ Volare ” filled the air, instantly bringing tears to her eyes. She’d donated Papa’s record collection to Rico for his vintage jukebox because listening to them was so painful. That particular song transported her back in time.
“ Papa, my prom’s not till next year. Why are you giving me lessons now?”
“We never know how much time we have. My Papa taught your Aunt Maria, and now I will teach you.”
She didn’t have the heart to tell him she probably wouldn’t be dancing to music like Dean Martin’s at her prom; didn’t want to disappoint him.
“Now, put you hand here,” he placed it in the center of his back, “and hold my hand like this .”
“ Tesoro mio , what is wrong?” Marc asked.
My treasure? Pulled away from her bittersweet memories, Angelina looked up at Marc. She hadn’t felt like any man’s treasure since Papa was killed. She’d never slow danced with a man since Papa either. There had been no prom for Angelina. She realized her cheeks were wet with tears.
Marc’s hand curled under her chin to tilt her face toward his. She tried to blink away the remaining tears, but more spilled onto her cheeks. He looked over at Allen. Did she just hear him growl?
“No, it’s not him.” She waved her hands in front of her eyes, trying to dry them. Her forced laugh sounded harsh, but she needed to lighten the mood. “I’m fine. The song just reminded me of my Papa. Let’s just dance.” She tried to glance away from him, but he continued to hold her chin steady in his hand. Heat pooled in her lower abdomen.
Cupping her face in both of his hands, Marc brushed away her tears with the pads of his thumbs. After gazing deeply into her eyes, he seemed to accept that she wasn’t going to divulge any more details and reached for her hand, placing it over the curve of his butt. Much lower than Papa had shown her. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist and entwined her left hand into his right one before he pulled he closer, pressing their intermingled hands and forearms between their bodies. Very intimate for a total stranger. So why did being in his arms make her feel so safe?
As the music slowed and wrapped around her, she closed her eyes and relaxed her head against Marc’s shoulder. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he drew her even closer, whispering Italian endearments in her ear. She wasn’t as familiar with the nuances of the northern Italian dialect, but recognized enough to know he thought she was beautiful and sexy. His whiskers tickled her ear, causing yet another zing to ricochet through her body, going to ground on her clit.
Marc’s free hand slid up her back and into the keyhole opening of her sweater dress. Goosebumps broke out on her arms and her nipples hardened against his chest as his thumb and fingers stroked her bare skin. She forced herself to take a deeper breath. Good Lord, all he was doing was touching her back! What if he were…
Don’t go there, Angie! With her breasts pressed against him, she was thankful he couldn’t see her body’s response. But surely he felt the rapid pounding of her heart beating against the back of his hand, because she could feel his beating against her hand.
So right in his arms. If only this weren’t just a show for Allen’s benefit.
“That’s right, cars . Just feel,” he whispered.
Angelina stumbled and Marc tightened his arm around her. A memory having nothing to do with Papa or Marc flashed across her mind, of her being held safe and secure in the arms of her dream lover.
“ That’s right, cara. Just feel .”
As they moved, the music on the jukebox didn’t match their movements, but they seemed to be moving to their own music. Marc’s hand strayed down from the keyhole to trace circles over the curve of her butt. At first, she thought he’d wanted to make Allen jealous, but then she
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