Nava dropped to the ground beneath her bedroom window, wincing when her ankle twisted. She knew her parents would be angry at her for leaving on such an important day, but she’d always managed to wriggle back into their good graces, and she had to see Danté. He would be waiting for her at the park.
“Young lady, what do you think you’re doing?”
Nava froze. Her mother stood in the driveway, scorching Nava with her patented wilting glare.
Oh God. How long has she been standing there?
“Well?” Adina always made her daughter confess the wrongdoing to her first. That way, Nava couldn’t deny it when her mother took the disobedient young woman before her father.
Nava shrugged with outstretched arms, her tone wheedling. “Mama, you know I hate parties. All I do is sit in a corner. I didn’t think I’d be missed.”
Adina crossed her arms. “You mean, you didn’t think we would miss you until it was too late to chase you down. You will not be sitting in a corner for this party. You will stand by your father and me until you are presented to your betrothed.” A thousand needles pricked Nava’s heart at the thought of never seeing Danté again. “You will be charming and graceful, and you will not shame your father on this important night. Do you understand me, Nava?”
Though her mother didn’t say it, she knew the rest. Or you can find another place to live. Nava’s parents had sheltered her, going so far as to forbid her from getting a job outside of the family business in an effort to keep her from dating. Nonetheless, she had met Dante while Christmas shopping, and they’d secretly been seeing each other ever since. Not that it mattered now.
Her shoulders slumped and she bowed her head. “Yes, Mama.” She started into the house, but couldn’t help pleading her case. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. “But, Mama, I don’t want—”
Adina interrupted, her voice a little softer. “You don’t want to get married. I know. But your father’s word is law in this, as in everything else. If we didn’t obey him—”
“—We would be beggars at the mercy of whoever would give us money.” Nava finished for her mother. “I know. But, Mama, Val Arbore and I have nothing in common.” And Danté and I have everything. She blushed, thinking of the way he nibbled her collarbones.
Adina placed her hands on Nava’s shoulders. “How do you know that? You’ve never even met. Your father and I had never laid eyes on one another when we were presented, but here we are–a successful, happy family, with a beautiful daughter.”
The tear glistening on the girl’s cheek tugged at Adina’s heart. She pulled Nava into an embrace. “Oh, poca bellezza, it’ll be all right. You’ll see,” she whispered into her daughter’s ear before she wiped away the tear. Then she stepped back and out of the tender moment. “Now, go get ready for the party. We have much to celebrate tonight.”
Nava ran up to her room and called Danté, but no one answered. “D-ant-é,” she sobbed. “I’m n-not going to m-make it today. I n-need to talk to you. P-please call me. I L-love you.” She flung herself on the bed, sure that when she got up, the pieces of her heart would be left lying there. Why can’t they come into the twenty-first century? Seeking comfort, she picked up her violin and started Vivaldi’s ”Winter,” but her heavy heart made her abandon it. Throwing the sheet music down, she rummaged through her music chest until she found the piece that matched her spirit. Soon, the mournful strains of Tchaikovsky’s “The Doll’s Funeral” haunted the marble halls and foyer of the Fioré family home.
The family patriarch shook his head. “Such a dramatic girl.”
***
Val Arbore waved to the attendant at the ball machine. “That’s it for today, Jack.” He mopped his face with the towel around his neck, gathered his bats, and headed for the shower. The exercise and scientific aspects of the batting cage had failed to soothe him the way they usually did. Soaping up in the steaming shower, he knew why.
The thing agitating him had nothing to do with business or science. It was a matter of the heart. He turned to wet his back, letting the hard spray loosen the stress-tightened muscles. He should have known today’s exertions would only tire him. He spat—an empty gesture that failed to do anything but shame him—and wondered how he was going to tell his love the news.
“How was I supposed to know they’d do it the old-fashioned way?” He asked the pristine shower tiles. His thoughts answered, as they always did: What made you think they wouldn’t?
Val had no answer for that. He finished getting cleaned up. A piece of paper fluttered to the floor as he grabbed his clothes from the locker. He knew what it was before he picked it up. His pulse quickened as he looked at the sepia-toned image of the girl who had captured his heart so unexpectedly.
She stood by a banister. The ringlets in the dark hair cascading over one shoulder reminded him of Scarlet O’Hara, but her figure brought Jayne Mansfield to mind. Her half-smile deepened a dimple in her cheek. He smiled, remembering how they’d met last season.
Attracted by her curves, he’d approached her as she examined a mini Rodin replica. He could still hear her squeal of surprise and the thud of the bronze sculpture as it hit his toe. He’d barely felt it—her wide eyes and the charming “O” her lush lips formed when she swung around had all of his attention. The scene had gotten funnier, with her head hitting his belt buckle as both of them bent to pick up the statue. Her blush was so cute, and her apologies so sincere, looking back, he knew she had owned his heart from then on. And now . . .
A band tightened around his heart at the thought of how he had deceived her all these months. He should have told her the truth long ago, but he was afraid he’d lose her. Now, his time was up. He carefully tucked the photo back into the breast pocket from which it had fallen.
“Well,” he sighed. “I guess my time’s up. Sometimes I hate being the favorite son.”
***
Marius looked up from his work, his brows arched at the fidgeting of his son’s hands. He met Val’s gaze.
“What can I do for my favorite son on this joyous day?”
Val groaned inwardly. Please be reasonable. He drew a deep breath.
“Father, about this marriage—”
Marius’s welcoming demeanor chilled. “Your idea, my son. You will honor your word.”
The younger Arbore sighed. “Yes, Father. I know.” He held up his hand against his father’s interruption. “And I will. Just—can you please not make it a big deal at tonight’s party? My intended doesn’t even know who I am,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want this any more than I do.”
Marius’s palm slapped the desk pad, and Val saw the dreaded setting of the jaw.
“Now, Father. You know I didn’t expect you and Angelo Fiore to do things the old-fashioned way. But I’m not here to argue or renege on my word.”
“I’m listening.”
“Just let me handle this my way, for the sake of my future bride and for the sake of the whole venture. Can you and Mr. Fiore do that, please?”
Marius stood and offered his hand. “You are a wise young man, my son. It will not be easy to get Angelo to agree to this, but I think, if I talk to both parents together, his wife will make him see the advantage of it.”
Val let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “Thank you, father.” He shook Marius’s hand and left the beaming patriarch to his business.
I only hope Nava will forgive me.
***
Angelo Fiore beamed at his daughter as she descended the steps. His mother had blanched at the Hebrew name they’d chosen for Nava, but the sight of her now left no doubt in his mind that they’d chosen right. He held out his arms.
“Nava . . . my Beauty. You look wonderful—so grown up.” He smothered his daughter in his embrace, and then turned to his wife. “Time passes so quickly.” He dabbed a burgeoning tear from Adina’s eye. “Yet, you are still as beautiful as the day I first saw you.”
Adina blushed and gazed at Angelo as if he was the only man on the earth.
Nava’s parents, she realized, were still very much in love. Like Danté and I. The bitter thought invaded, and she gave it quarter. Why do they get to have their soul mates when I’m denied?
Adina nodded at something her husband whispered to her, and took Nava’s hand. “Come, Nava. I have something to tell you, and there is something I want you to wear tonight.” Nava followed to her parents’ bedroom. Adina stood by her vanity and faced her daughter. “Please, sit down.” She motioned to the chair beside her.
Nava obeyed, feeling odd sitting in the chair from which she’d been shooed so many times as a schoolgirl. Adina’s heart swelled with pride as she saw the woman in her little girl. She blinked back the tears that threatened to ruin her makeup.
“Nava, in a few minutes, the guests will begin to arrive, and your future husband will be among them. But we will not do things the way we had originally planned.” She smiled at her daughter’s confusion. “We will not be announcing your engagement to Val Arbore tonight. But—” She cut off her daughter’s celebration with a raised hand. “You will be meeting your betrothed tonight. He will find you.”
Nava sighed. “Thank you.”
Adina was taking something from her jewelry chest. “You should thank him. It was his idea. But now, I want to give you something.” She stood behind Nava. “Raise your hair, child.”
Nava obeyed, her heart beating furiously. She knew what her mother was about to give her, but she still caught her breath as the cold metal touched her chest. She stared at herself in the mirror. The antique cross lay dark against her pale chest, the foot of it resting just at the top of her cleavage. She knew she would no longer be considered a girl. She breathed deeply. She felt the weight would crush her.
Adina hugged her daughter. “You must never polish the cross. It carries your ancestors. Remember.” Her voice choked with unreleased tears.
Nava’s own eyes threatened to flood. “I’ll remember, Mama.”
“Come, it’s time for guests to arrive.”
***
Marius looked at his son. “Are you sure you won’t go in with me?”
Val sighed. “Yes, Father. Just let me do this my way, okay?” He knew his father didn’t understand, but Val knew that if there was any chance at saving his relationship, he had to get in to the party and get to Nava before someone called him by name within her earshot.
“Hey! Marius!” Angelo embraced his new partner. He looked around expectantly. Marius pulled him to the side.
“My crazy son will be here. He doesn’t want your daughter to know who he is yet. Don’t ask me why.”
Angelo’s eyes twinkled. “Ah, spy before invading, eh?” The two men shared a belly laugh and Angelo slapped Marius on the back. “Well, let him do what he thinks best. She will be his. It is best that he learn how to handle her.”
Val waited until a crowd of people arrived and merged with them, careful that Nava didn’t see him as he entered. He slipped off to the side, engaging one of the Fiore executives in conversation, never taking his eyes off the dark-haired beauty.
Nava shifted from foot to foot. Adina laid a hand on her thigh. “Stop squirming, girl.”
Nava’s voice had a bitter edge to it. “I thought he’d be with his father so I’d know him. Is he even here?”
Adina put on a smile as another couple arrived. “Your father won’t tell me, and I’ve never seen him. You’ll just have to be patient.” She rolled her eyes at her daughter’s frustrated sigh.
Val watched Nava’s shoulders tense and her eyes search the crowd. Her frown and fidgeting told him it would not be long before she bolted. He just hoped she’d hide where she always did. He excused himself and slipped into the darkened game room.
Nava couldn’t believe her eyes. Her stomach tightened. Is that Danté? Oh, no! No, no, no! The thought of Danté finding out from any but her own lips about her pending marriage sickened her. White-faced, she touched Adina on the shoulder.
“Mama, I’m not feeling well.”
Adina petted her hair. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, Mama. I think I just need some air. I’ll be back.” Adina watched her thread through the crowd to the veranda door.
Once outside, Nava hurried along the veranda to the game room entrance, but stopped. What if I’m wrong? What if my eyes only saw what I wanted them to? She stepped back. But I did leave him that message. It could be him. If it isn’t, I’ll just . . . just run away and cry my eyes out, that’s what. Taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and slipped inside.
Val paced, wondering how long it would be before Nava would slip away to her haven. What if she can’t? What if her parents keep her out there this time? He thought of her standing there, wondering what was going on when the man she was supposed to marry didn’t show up, hurt because Danté didn’t return her call. No. I can’t do this. I have to go to her. He picked up his jacket.
“Danté?”
He whirled. “Nava” was the only word he managed to utter before she was in his arms, lips pressed to his. Feathering his jaw and neck with kisses, she settled her head on his shoulder, holding him as if she’d never let him go. He held her head to him as he stroked her back, until at last she looked up at him.
“Danté, what are you doing here? You shouldn’t have come.” She stepped back, eyes glistening. “Why didn’t you call me?”
He followed her, pulling her to him again. “I couldn’t find the right time, Lover.” He erased an escaping tear from her cheek with his lips. “I’m here now.”
“Yes,” she sighed. In his arms, the urgency of her news faded. Nothing mattered but his lips on her skin. She let out a soft moan as his hands wandered her bare back. All the heartache and frustration swirling within her melded with her desire to create ravening hunger for him. Pushing her fingers into his hair, she buried the trauma of the past day in his kiss.
Val’s body responded to the urgency of Nava’s kiss, arresting all thought of why he’d come there.
He accepted her tongue and slid his hand over her ass to bring her thigh up. She ground her crotch into him, moving her lips down over his chest, unfastening his shirt, heating his cock through his pants with her other hand. He groaned.
“Hold on to me, Baby.”
She slipped her arms around his neck as he tightened his grasp on her thigh, and squealed when he carried her a few steps to the leather chair behind her. Val gazed down at Nava as she writhed where he’d deposited her. Her fingers pressed her dress between her thighs as she rubbed her pussy. He’d never seen her so hungry. He gladly complied when she beckoned him closer.
Nava’s hands trembled as she unzipped his fly and pushed away the barriers between her and his cock. His knees almost buckled as she sucked his shaft into her mouth, tongue sliding along the underside, tiny fingers wrapped around the base. He grasped the back of the chair with one hand as he kicked away his shoes and pants before resting the other on her head, watching in disbelief as this beautiful, passionate woman scooped her breast from the “Seven Year Itch” halter and pulled at the nipple. I’m being selfish. I have to tell her. I don’t want to lose her. Nava twisted her mouth on his head, and he groaned. God, I don’t want to lose her.
“Oh, my God, Nava. You make it so hard—” He lost his thought when she pushed her panties down her legs.
She let him out of her mouth. “I know. I love how hard you get for me.” She slid her lips over his shaft again, her moans vibrating the length of him. He let her suck his mind away.
“My turn.” He pulled her off of him. Her eyes followed him as he knelt before her and draped her knees over the arms of the chair. She was already leaving a wet spot on the leather. He leaned forward to kiss her, starting with her forehead and trailing light kisses down to her breasts, where he took a nipple into his mouth. She moaned and pressed his hand to her pussy.
“Please,” she whispered.
She tilted her hips to meet his thrust as he pushed a finger into her, and she laced her fingers into his hair to guide his head as she arched to give herself to him. Val devoured every inch she offered, growling as he feasted on her softness. Her taste was his sexual appetizer. He looked up at her, thrilled down to his twitching cock to see her watching him. Her teeth raked her lower lip in an effort to be quiet, but it didn’t work for long.
With a cry, Nava pushed him away and stood. “I need to ride you.” She grabbed his cock and stroked him as he moved into the chair. As soon as he was seated, she knelt on the arms, preparing to drape her legs over them, but the scent of her arousal was too much for him. He pulled her to his face, sucking her clit between his lips and fingering her until she cried out, begging him to stop.
“Please, I need to feel you fill me.” She couldn’t have urged him faster with a riding crop. He let her down onto his lap, but not onto his cock.
“Take your dress off, Nava.” No sooner had he said it than she had ducked out of her halter, panting, and grasped his shaft, leaning forward to press her breasts against his bare chest.
“A little help,” she breathed onto his lips as she moved his hands to the zipper at her waist. She ground her pussy against his cock while he fumbled with the fastener, and fed him a nipple until he pulled the dress over her head and cast it to the couch.
He grinned at her squeal when he suddenly wrapped his arm around her waist and, cradling her head, laid her down on the floor in front of the chair. He teased her, pushing his cock head into her, then pulling out.
“Oh, please don’t tease like that, Baby.”
She had nothing to worry about. Those strokes had taken Val to his breaking point. He needed to fill her as much as she needed to feel it. She gasped when he gave her his full measure, and he hesitated, reveling in the way her silky muscles hugged his shaft.
“God, Nava. You’re so good,” he panted. The words were so common, so cliché, but so true, Wordsworth couldn’t have found a better way to say them. Good was the essence of the woman rising to meet his thrusts, muffling her cries in his chest. It was why he felt safe giving her his heart.
“Hard . . . Please,” she gasped.
Val withdrew slowly. He loved the feeling of her clit sliding along his length. Nava gazed up at him, pure love shining from her sable eyes. “I love you,” he answered just before he thrust hard into her.
She arched her back. “Yesss!” She moved with him, squealing with each impact.
The sight of her under him, breasts jiggling, eyes glazed as she approached orgasm, was almost too much for him. He buried himself in her sultry heat and then stopped, sucking her nipples as he willed his climax to recede. Her moans assured him that she was still on the road to ecstasy.
Val slid his hand down her side to caress her ass, and had the overwhelming urge to see that ass jiggling as he pumped into her. Nava dazedly took the hand he offered. He answered her questioning look with action, helping her over to the pool table and pressing in behind her, running his hand from her belly to her breasts, then down again to feel the full measure of her legs. She gasped and bent forward when his tongue laved her pussy, and pushed back against him when he slid up her body.
Nava gave a contented sigh as his lips danced up her back. “Mmmm, that feels so good . . . but, baby, if you don’t fuck me, I’m gonna explode.” She reached down and stroked his cock, still slick with her juices, smiling at his groan. “I think I’m not the only one.”
Val groaned as she sucked each glistening finger. “You could drive a man insane.” He pushed into her again, closing his eyes to absorb the new pleasures afforded by the position. He’d never fucked her before when she was wearing heels. Judging from her moan, it was just as good for her. He grinned. It was about to get better.
Gradually increasing the speed of his strokes until Nava’s squeals became an erotic arpeggio, he reached around and urged those squeals to screams when his fingertips found her clit.
“Oh god,” she gasped as her legs began to tremble. “Oh! Oh! It’s--too—” Her orgasm abducted the last word, leaving her writhing, trying desperately not to let her knees buckle.
Val’s eyes widened. “Fuck!” Her pussy grasped his cock as he withdrew for each stroke. He held Nava’s hips and pulled her back as much as he thrust into her. He didn’t have to tell her he was close—his testicles rested in her palm as she stroked behind them, propelling him faster toward his own release.
In his mind’s eye, he could see her breasts jiggling like the flesh of her ass did with each impact, but it was Nava’s voice that drove him to his peak.
“Come for me,” she begged, ringing his cock with thumb and finger.
“Oh! Fuck!” He jerked her back onto him, lost in the ecstasy of his release, and collapsed onto her back, chest heaving, recovering enough to gasp, “I think it gets better every time with you.”
The words slammed into Nava, reminding her that there would be no next time. He felt her stiffen underneath him and then begin shaking. He remained nestled against her, tightening his embrace as if he could stop the tears that way, but he could hear the soft plunk of them on the felt beneath them.
“Hey. Hey, Baby. It’ll be all right.”
Nava pushed back on him, but he released her only enough to withdraw. She dropped her head. “Danté, it’s never going to be all right. I—I have to get married, to a man I don’t even know. He’s out there at the party somewhere, and—and I’m supposed to meet him, and—and—I love you, not him—” She collapsed into sobs that wrenched at his heart.
I’m such a selfish ass! I should have told her before. He let her up and turned her around, nestling her head in his chest, pressing his hand against her heartbeat.
“I know, Baby. I know.”
She raised her head, brow furrowed upon hearing the quiet admission. Even with tear-stained cheeks, Nava was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known.
“What? You—How?”
Val sighed and stepped back, offering his hand. “Nava Fiore, allow me to introduce myself. Valerius—Val—Danté Arbore.” He held his breath.
Nava stared at him, processing the implications of his words. With a cry, she grabbed his hand and showered the palm with kisses. “All this time--,” she gasped.
“Please don’t hate me.” His eyes begged forgiveness.
“All this time--!” Her brows knit, and the fire in her eyes had nothing to do with lust. Val stepped back.
“Now, Nava—” He held up his hands as she advanced on him.
“’Now, Nava’. Don’t you ‘Now, Nava’ me. You knew. You knew!” She lapsed into a string of Italian the likes of which Val hadn’t heard since his grandmother caught him getting into the Sacramental wine, advancing on his retreat until she had him cornered against the bar, where she hammered on his chest until she could no longer find the strength.
“. . . And—and . . . I love you.” She finished.
He wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, too,” he murmured, stroking her hair.
Nava sighed. “It’s going to be hard to remember to call you Val.”
He brushed his lips over hers and whispered onto her cheek, “For you, I am Danté, my Love.”
Originally published July, 2008