A girl could dream, couldn’t she? Even if the odds of a woman like her finding someone like Max Brown were slim to none. Heck, the only person she knew who fit her bill was... Max.
She turned back in time to discover Armando was studying her again. Only this time, instead of feeling like he was looking inside her, she broke out in a tingling, achy sensation that cut through her stomach to deep below her waist.
“Get dressed,” she said abruptly. “I mean, you need to get dressed and I...I should get back to the office. I’ll see you when you return.”
Spinning on her toe of her shoe, she turned and headed toward the pool house door. Arianna was right about her acting skills. At least this time, her excuse sounded better than having to double-check gelato quantities.
“Rosa, wait.”
* * *
Armando chuckled when Rosa turned around. She looked like an animal trapped in the headlights of an automobile. Wide-eyed and hesitant. And damn if he didn’t find it appealing.
“Are you bringing a guest to the concert?” he asked.
He could tell she didn’t know what to make of his question. “You mean, do I have a date?”
“Exactly. I was curious if, after our conversation the other day, you weren’t inspired to...improve...your social life.”
Was that a blush creeping into her cheeks or simply a flush from the warm air? “You’re curious about a lot of things lately.”
About her, he was. It disturbed him to realize he didn’t know her as well as he thought. Like the proverbial onion, there were layers he’d yet to peel back, and dammit if he didn’t want to see what lay beneath. “Are you?” he asked.
“No,” she replied after a pause. “I haven’t had the opportunity to...improve...anything. I’ve been busy.”
“Why don’t we sit together, then?”
Rosa nearly choked. “Together? As in sit with you in the front row of the royal box?”
“Why not? Now that Mona isn’t attending, the seat next to me will be empty.”
“Yes, but I always sit behind you at royal events.”
A rule of her own making. Armando couldn’t care less about seating arrangements. In fact, it sometimes aggravated him the way Rosa would stick herself in the background, as though she were afraid to take up space. “Well, tonight I’d like you to sit in the front row with me.”
“I—”
“As you said, this concert is as important to you as it is me. Tonight will be the last concert I will host before I get married. This is our opportunity to pay homage to Christina together one last time.”
A shadow darkened her features. Using Christina was a low blow, but her sister’s memory was the one thing Rosa couldn’t resist. “I suppose,” she said in a soft voice.
“Good, it’s settled. We’ll attend together. I will pick you up at your apartment at seven.”
“Fine. Seven o’clock,” she replied. “Is there anything else?”
Yes, she could try to sound a little excited. “Feel free to take the afternoon off. I know how you women like to primp for these things.”
“Thank you,” she replied. Armando wondered if she was grateful for the extra preparation time or the chance to avoid him a little longer. Just because she seemed to accept his apology didn’t mean she wasn’t still upset with him, as her reluctance to attend the concert together showed.
He watched as she turned and continued to the door. Damn, but he hated those long blazers of hers. This one was charcoal gray and went to the hem of her skirt. If there was one thing he’d noticed over the years it was that Rosa had an unparalleled walk, as good as any of the runway models in Milan. Whenever she moved, she led with her pelvis, causing her hips to swivel from side to side. And, because unlike a runway model, she carried some actual meat on her bones, her bottom half undulated with a fluidity that was amazingly sensual. Reminded him of wine swirling in a glass.
Except when she wore those blasted blazers. If she tried to wear one tonight, he would burn it.
“Was that Rosa leaving?” Arianna asked when the door clicked shut.
“I gave her the afternoon off,” he replied. “She’s attending the concert with me—that is, we’re going to cohost the event.” The other way made it sound like a date, which this wasn’t. No matter how his body had reacted when she said yes.
“What a nice idea,” his sister said.
“I thought we should since Mona is unable to come.” And it would be their last opportunity.
Did his relief upon hearing Mona had canceled make him a horrible person? One would think he would want to spend time with his prospective bride. Wasn’t that why he’d invited her to the concert in the first place? So they could get to know each other?
And then he could start fantasizing about her rather than about the kiss he’d shared with Rosa.
He shoved that last thought to the back of his mind where it belonged. He was not fantasizing about Rosa. Not really. She was his sister-in-law, for crying out loud. His sex drive had reawakened, that was all. A man could only live as a monk for so long, and Rosa happened to be the woman who was there when his inner male returned.
As for tonight, it was only fitting they cohost the event. To honor Christina.
And if he wanted to make sure she had a proper time? Well, that was simply because she deserved an enjoyable evening and had nothing to do with wanting to make her feel special.
Nothing at all.
CHAPTER FIVE
WHAT HAD SHE been thinking? Rosa smoothed her hands along her hips. When she tried it on, the saleswoman flattered her to Rome and back with a pitch about how this dress’s straight cut accentuated her figure rather than making her look large and hippy. Flush from the ego boost, Rosa had let herself be talked into going against her normal style. It wasn’t just the silhouette that was out of character; it was the bright red color and slightly bare shoulders, too. Live a little, she’d thought at the time. No one’s going to care what you wear.
That was before she knew she would be sitting in the front row.
Next to Armando.
As his date.
Not a date. Calling tonight a date made the evening sound like it was something special rather than two friends attending an event together. Which the two of them had done dozens of times before. The only thing different about tonight was the seating arrangement.
And the fact he was picking her up.
And that the concert would be broadcast across all of Corinthia. With her seated by Armando’s side, which would make her look like his date.
Had he known that when he asked her?
Her palms started to sweat. Moving to rub them on her skirt, she caught herself in time.
Squaring her shoulders, she turned left, then right, looking for any unshapely bumps or bulges. The saleswoman had been right about one thing—the dress certainly emphasized her shape. Daily walking had made her legs firm and toned, while good old control-top undergarments had firmed up the rest. She looked, dare she say it, not that bad. If only the dress weren’t bright. So attention seeking.
What makes you think anyone is going to be looking at you?
Three years and Fredo’s voice was as loud as ever in her head, taking her confidence and crushing it into bits.
You’re a cow. You’re an embarrassment.
The last thing she wanted was to embarrass Armando.
Maybe she had time to change. The black dress from last Christmas, he had liked that one, hadn’t he? Or the navy blue one she wore two years ago with the sequined bodice. Could she still fit into it?
She never stressed like this over dresses before.
Then again, she’d never been Armando’s date before. Not a date, she quickly amended.
Just then her living room clock chimed seven. Barely had the last clang sounded when the doorbell rang. Rosa jumped. What the—Three years of having to hustle him out the door, and the one night he had to get ready without her, he was on time?
She opened the door to find him with one shoulder propped against the door frame. Naturally, he looked amazing, the stiff white collar gleaming against his darker skin. In a flash, Rosa’s mind peeled off the clothing to picture the man she saw swimming this morning. All six feet three inches of carved muscle.
“Hi.” The greeting came out a breathy whisper, far too intimate sounding for the circumstances. She cringed inwardly.
Armando eyes widened. “You look...”
She knew it. The dress was too bright.
“Gorgeous,” he finished. “I mean it, that dress is...”
“Thank you. The woman at the boutique talked me into trying something different.”
“Good for her. You should wear red more often. The color suits you.”
Rosa hoped so, because now her cheeks were the same color as her dress, a combination of modesty and embarrassment over her reaction. This wasn’t the first time Armando had ever paid her a compliment, yet awareness ghosted across her skin like it was. Made her feel more feminine and beautiful than she had in years. “You look nice, too,” she told him, looking up through her lashes. “Very...regal.”
“Damn. I was going for dashing.”
Mission definitely accomplished. Almost. “One little thing,” she said. His tie was crooked. “You never can get your tie proper,” she said, reaching up.
“That’s because you weren’t there to help me,” he replied, lifting his chin. “Arianna had to tie it for me.”