LITMIR.BIZ

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to think about the way Gina rubbed the inside of his arm.

      “Per piacere.” She made her lips look pouty. “I mean, please.”

      “Just ten minutes.”

      “I promise.” She smiled and then kissed his cheek.

      An innocent touch that threatened a major hard-on. Oh, man, he was in bad shape. No way was he going to stand around and watch her select underwear. “I’ll wait for you on the first floor.”

      Her expression fell. “Why?”

      “Because I have something to do down there.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew some money. “Here.”

      “Grazie, but I have my own money.” She lifted her chin and headed in the direction of the G-strings.

      What had he done wrong? “Ten minutes,” he called. “At the bottom of the escalator.”

      She waved without turning around, which was good enough for him. Let her get her G-string or whatever. He didn’t have to know what she wore under her clothes. And he didn’t have to subject himself to watching her select it.

      He used the time to go to the washroom and splash his face with cold water. On the way back to the escalator, he stopped at the men’s cosmetic counter and squirted himself with one of the testers. The stuff smelled nasty, and he let out a rude grunt that netted him several stares. No wonder he never wore any of that junk.

      With a minute to spare he arrived at the escalator. No sign of Gina yet. Not that he expected her to be early. She’d been like a kid in a candy store all morning, excited by simply trying on sunglasses. She’d explained that her mother didn’t allow unchaperoned shopping, which basically meant it wasn’t worth going.

      Such strict rules and morals were hard to understand. Particularly since Gina seemed to be a good girl, genuinely concerned about what her parents and uncle thought. Even the way she’d wanted to dress had more to do with normal and healthy rebellion than attracting male attention.

      That was the thing that floored Mike the most. She didn’t even get how hot she was, or that men tripped over themselves watching her walk across the street. She was more interested in gawking at shop windows and staring at young women with blue hair and navel rings.

      He checked his watch. Eighteen minutes. No sign of her coming down the escalator. He’d give her another two and then drag her out of the store.

      After another five minutes, he took the escalator steps two at a time up to the lingerie department. He didn’t see her, and flagged a saleswoman.

      “I’m looking for my friend,” he said. “Petite, dark hair, pretty—”

      She smiled. “Italian accent?”

      “That’s her.” The relief he felt was ridiculous. She was probably still in a fitting room.

      “Yes, she went that way.” The woman pointed in the opposite direction of the escalator. “With two other gentlemen.”

      4

      “WE WERE SUPPOSED to meet at the bottom of the escalator a half hour ago.” Mike blew into his clammy palms. “Are the elevators and escalators the only ways to get to the first floor?”

      The security guard nodded. “For shoppers.”

      “What do you mean? Are there stairs we haven’t checked?”

      “Don’t worry, Mr. Mason.” The older man glanced at the notes he’d taken so far. “We have a good description of her. We’ll find your daughter. How old did you say she is?”

      “Twenty-three,” Mike muttered.

      “What?”

      “I never said she was my daughter.”

      The man closed his notebook and glared. “Is this some kind of joke? We’re talking about a grown woman, not a kid?”

      Mike shook his head. “No, definitely not. She’s new to the city—”

      “So are a third of the people in this store.” The security guard crossed his arms over his big round belly. “I ought to have you arrested.”

      “That’s absurd. On what charge?”

      “Anything happens in this store, like a theft or something, while you have us distracted, and I gotta believe you were in on it.”

      Mike groaned. The guy had one hell of an imagination. “Look, I’m telling you the truth. She’s Italian and she doesn’t speak much English.”

      “Guess what, pal? Half the people who live in the city don’t speak English.”

      “Yeah, but—”

      “Mike!”

      At the sound of her voice, he spun around.

      She ran to him and threw her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest.

      “Gina, are you okay?” He held her tightly and stroked her back when she refused to release him.

      She mumbled something in Italian but wouldn’t look up.

      Another security guard, tall and lanky, walked over and stood beside them. “She’s fine,” he said, exchanging a look with his paunchy co-worker then glancing around at the gathering crowd. “She just had a little fright, is all.”

      “Those two guys have anything to do with it?” Mike asked, a fury rising in him he didn’t know he possessed.

      She looked up. “They said you sent them to find me. That you had an accident.”

      Mike stared down at her pale face. “Did they hurt you?”

      She shook her head. “I punched the short skinny one.”

      He swallowed a startled laugh and then glanced at the taller security guard. “Did you catch them?”

      The man’s grim face was answer enough. “If you want to file a report, let’s go to the office.”

      “No.” Gina straightened and stepped away from Mike. “We are going to Central Park.”

      “But, Gina—”

      “They ran. You will not catch them. And if Zio Antonio finds out what happened, I will be on a plane back to Italy.”

      She had a point. Mike looked at the security guard again. The man shrugged. The other one was trying to break up the interested group of onlookers.

      “I want to go now, please.” Her accent was heavier, probably because she was upset. In her eyes was an odd mixture of pleading and determination. Her mind was clearly made up.

      “Okay, but you stick close to me. Got it?”

      She nodded enthusiastically and slipped her arm through his.

      He pulled her closer still, unsure of what he was more afraid of—her or the unknown.

      “I WANT ANOTHER hot dog.” Gina dug into the pocket of her jeans for money. “And a Coca-Cola with lots of ice.”

      “You’re going to be sick.”

      She wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

      “Because you’ve already had two Cokes, a hot dog and popcorn.”

      “Yes, and?” She passed the vendor her money and then doused her hot dog with mustard and relish.

      She had the most incredible appetite for a woman, especially one her size. Of course she did a good job of burning off calories. He got winded just watching her play Frisbee with the two twelve-year-old boys they’d met earlier. She ran and dove for her catches as if the free world depended on her.

      No wonder she was in such excellent shape. The woman could move. Hell, she’d even gotten him off his ass

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