LITMIR.BIZ

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she know the answer?

      The girls had told her she had to see her old lover before she’d be sure how she felt about marrying Al. And now she knew.

      Sparks. Yes, they flew through her body whenever Giancarlo touched her, when his gaze even lit on her. Passion? Yes, if erect nipples and the burning ache between her thighs were any indication. Romance? What could possibly be more romantic than the most handsome man in the world toasting her, Rina Goldberg, with French champagne?

      If she didn’t seize this opportunity, she might never have the chance again.

      And yet, she’d never been the kind of woman who could date, much less sleep with, two men at the same time.

      “Damn,” she muttered.

      “Sorry?”

      She shook her head. “Nothing.” Just the end of a caring friendship that quite possibly might have turned into a companionable, even loving marriage. But no, she wasn’t willing to settle. She wanted those damned sparks. Wanted the kind of passionate romance her girlfriends had found.

      Even if only for one night.

      Even if it was only a fantasy, an illusion, a creation of a charmer who was here today but might be gone tomorrow.

      She was a fool. Al was a good man, a forever kind of man. They could have worked out that issue about him getting pushy when he didn’t get his way. How could she hurt him, cast him away for a crazy, enchanted fling with a man like Giancarlo?

      Because, for her, there were no other men like Giancarlo. When she’d been a girl, she’d loved her time with him but hadn’t realized how truly amazing it was. Hadn’t known theirs would remain the standard against which she measured other relationships. A standard that had yet to be topped.

      This was too confusing. She’d always believed in the romantic idea of The One. That for each woman there was one special man. She was almost twenty-seven and Giancarlo was the only man who’d ever felt special to her—and it had happened twice now.

      Still, she reminded herself firmly, he wasn’t The One for the long term. She didn’t want a crassly commercial jet-setter any more than he’d want her. But if he was offering her romance, passion and fantastic sex for even just a night…

      Was she utterly insane to consider it?

      “Rina, what’s wrong?”

      Inside her head, she bid a quiet good-bye to Al. She’d make it official tomorrow, but for her they were broken up as of this moment.

      Raising both hands, she dragged her hair back from the sides of her face. “This wasn’t what I expected when I came tonight.”

      “What did you expect, cara?” he asked gently.

      Clenching her hair, she thought about his question. She hadn’t expected him to be so handsome. Or to come on to her. Nor had she anticipated finding him so impossible to resist.

      She released her hair and it sprang free. “A high school reunion,” she said wryly. “Where people who used to be best friends no longer have anything in common. Where the chat is superficial and forced and there’s just no…” She shrugged. “No connection anymore.”

      “And here we most definitely have a connection.” There wasn’t an ounce of uncertainty in his heated gaze, the conviction in his voice.

      “Yes,” she admitted softly.

      A smile of delight split his face. “I’m so glad you feel it too. Now, stop fighting it and just enjoy. Yes?”

      “I’ll try. We’ll talk, eat dinner, see where things go.”

      Even as she spoke to Giancarlo, a part of her was still worrying about Al. How could she have led the poor guy on—to the point he’d propose—then reject him?

      But she hadn’t meant to lead him on. Every step of the way, she’d been honest. She’d never told him she loved him. Maybe he’d assumed it, because she slept with him.

      Not a mistake Giancarlo would ever make. If—big if—she did go to bed with him.

      “You’re still worried about something,” he said softly. “Something more than tonight.”

      She nodded. “There’s something I need to do. Something unpleasant, and sad. It’s going to be very hard.”

      “I’m sorry. Can I help in any way?”

      The more she looked at him, the more she saw the boy he’d been. The engaging tilt to his head, the way unruly curls tumbled over his forehead.

      She smiled across at him. “I have to do this on my own. But thank you.”

      “Can you do this thing tonight?”

      “No. Tomorrow.” Al was a dentist; he worked all day. She’d arrange to meet him in the evening, to break the news. Hopefully not to break his heart. Or to get into another argument.

      “Then put it aside and don’t worry about it until then. Here we are, with good food growing cold, enough champagne in our glasses for a toast, so much yet to talk about. Let it go, Rina.”

      He’d always been like that. Quick to shove problems aside, take the easy route. But tonight, he was right. She’d enjoy tonight and tomorrow face the consequences.

      “You’re right.” She shook back her hair, as if that one head toss could free her of all troubling thoughts. “What’s the toast?”

      He raised his glass. “To us, being together.”

      She lifted hers and clicked it gently to his. “To us, being together.” The warm intensity of his smile brought another flush to her cheeks and chest.

      She drained her champagne just as the waiter arrived with their glasses of wine and their dinners. Then she took a forkful of salmon, swirling it in tomato, lemon, olive oil sauce. “Delicious. How’s your lasagne?”

      Giancarlo had been tasting too, and let out a sigh of contentment. “Fancier than Mamma’s, but very good. Here, have a taste.” He extended his fork, which held a sizable mouthful of pasta, meat and cheese.

      Had to be a hundred calories in a bite. But man, did it look and smell good. She leaned forward and closed her lips around the food. She closed her eyes too, the better to savor the taste as she drew the lasagne into her mouth. “Mmm.” Heaven.

      When she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her, his face taut with…was that excitement? Sexual excitement?

      An unusual sense of female power filled her. Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned forward so that her loose top slipped off one shoulder, revealing a lacy black bra strap and more than a hint of cleavage. His gaze moved down, lingered, and his eyes glittered with heat.

      “More, please,” she murmured, trying to sound seductive.

      He exhaled with a quick rush of air. When he scooped up another bite of lasagne and held out his fork, his hand was actually shaking.

      Even a woman of her limited experience could tell he was seriously aroused.

      And so was she. If she’d had Jenny’s nerve, she’d have grabbed his hand and said, “Let’s go find a bed.” Instead, she leaned forward and parted her lips to slide the lasagne off his fork.

      “You have a sexy mouth,” he said, voice rough at the edges. “It makes a man imagine all sorts of things.”

      “What do you imagine?” she dared to ask.

      His eyes widened, and he gave a quick bark of laughter. “I can’t tell you; I’m too turned on as it is.”

      “What do you want to do about that?”

      “Want?” His smile flashed wickedly. “To tell the absolute truth, I want you to slide under the table, unzip my pants, and…well, you can figure out the

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