Ironically, though, Mandy had started seeing Horse after meeting in the bar. When I spoke to him and read him the riot act, thinking he was still playing super spy for my father’s organization, he assured me it had been a onetime thing. Of course, then my concern became his “lady’s man” ways, but he assured me he’d never met anyone like Mandy—“so American and sexy, but with an Italian body and fashion sense”—and that he was all in. At the end of the day, if Mandy was happy, then I was happy, too. And dang, was she happy.
Nikki and I also became good friends after she came to Miami and introduced me to Amanda, a few weeks following my visit to New York. At first I was a little suspicious and thought it was an excuse to check up on me. But after spending a few days with them, I realized Nikki just needed to be around someone who understood what she’d gone through. Learning that the world is filled with such dark, savage, and ruthless people, who aren’t just characters on a movie screen, can be a pretty jarring experience. And losing someone you love in a violent way, well, I didn’t know about that, but I did know loss. And I did know about always having to pretend you’re someone you’re not.
With Mandy’s dad living an hour from Miami, she, Nikki, and Amanda ended up spending a few weekends at my beach condo for a little wintertime fun in the sun. And for the first time in a long time, I felt happy.
So even though my mother and I would be alone at her house for Christmas (my aunt Rhonda was on a cruise, as usual, and Mandy was in California with her mom), I really looked forward to just us two girls hanging out, cooking and sipping wine. Okay, honestly, I still wasn’t so into alcohol, but I was into mashed potatoes, which was why I was on smash duty while my mom finished up the turkey.
As I was mashing away, singing to “Frosty the Snowman” in the kitchen—an awesome huge chef’s palace with state-of-the-art everything—I heard the doorbell ring.
“Must be the UPS guy,” I said. We weren’t expecting anyone, but Mandy had said she was sending me a special new dress she’d made. I couldn’t wait to see it either. The whole flirty, short dress thing had really grown on me. Even today I had on a little red tank dress and black sandals.
I got up from my stool at the granite counter and made my way through the dining room, living room, and to the front door. As I reached to open it, my mother appeared behind me, wearing freshly applied makeup—red lipstick and mascara—her blonde hair neatly pulled back. It was odd because she never wore anything on her face, except for special occasions.
“Oh,” she said, “that must be my date.”
I blinked at her. “You have a date?”
“Surprise?”
“When were you thinking of telling me?” I asked.
She smiled. “Now, silly.”
I didn’t know how to feel. I mean, it had been over a year since my father “died,” so I guess it was time for her to see other men. It still felt too soon, though.
Don’t be judgmental. She’s a grown woman and deserves to be happy.
“Oh, and he brought his son.” She winked.
A date for me? Oh God. What was the matter with her?
“Wow, Mom. That’s r-r-really great. Can’t wait to meet him.”
The doorbell rang again, and I groaned. I can’t believe she’s ruining my Christmas. I sighed and pulled open the door. I don’t know what or whom I was expecting, but not this guy. He wore glasses with thick black frames, had brown hair—silver at the temples—brown eyes, and a nice straight nose. He was very handsome and tall, but the expensive suit made me cringe. Reminded me too much of my dad. In fact, he even looked like him a little.
Next to him stood a younger guy—tall, well built, in his mid-twenties, also wearing black-rimmed glasses and an expensive black suit. He wore his dark, velvety-looking hair buzzed about a half inch long and had a short but thick dark beard. My eyes darted from feature to feature unable to decide which one was the hottest. Those big blue eyes hiding behind the lenses? The slightly full lips? Wow, he was frigging underwear-model hot.
Great. Another one of those…
“Steve,” my mother gestured to her date, “Paul,” she gestured to his son, “this is Dakota.”
Steve held out his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Dakota,” he said with a faint Texan twang.
That voice. That voice. Holy fucking shit. That voice.
“Dad?” I fainted.
~~~
“Paul, get her some ice. I think she hit her head pretty hard,” I heard my mother call out. “Baby? Baby? Can you hear me?” I felt my mother gently tapping my cheek. “Steve, I have smelling salts in my first aid kit in the closet. Can you hand it to me?”
Immediately, I felt my nose invaded by the potent scent of ammonia. My eyes flew open, and I sat up, gasping for clean air. “Holy shit.” I looked up at the man standing over me, my mouth hanging open.
He smiled at me in a way that was so familiar yet so foreign. My father never smiled, but this was him. With a new face. Smiling.
“I don’t fucking believe it,” I whispered.
“Dakota,” my mother scolded, “watch your mouth.”
I immediately stood up, needing a closer look.
“Careful, sweetie. You hit your head pretty hard.” My mother steadied me by the elbow as I looked at the man standing in front of me.
“You came back.” I couldn’t believe it. I just couldn’t.
“I couldn’t stay away. I love you both too much.” My father smiled at me, his big brown eyes twinkling.
Brown? His eyes were really a silvery gray, as was his hair. Obviously, he had on very high-quality contacts and had dyed his hair, too. I mean, looking at him, I knew it was him, but at the same time, had I passed him on the street, I wouldn’t have recognized the man. His cheeks were a little different as was his chin and nose. “You look so different.”
He shrugged. “Hopefully younger,” he said, once again using his cover accent.
“Yeah. Like ten years younger.” I couldn’t stop staring.
“Do I get a hug?” he asked.
I nodded frantically. “Yes. Yes!” I threw myself at him, and he squeezed so tightly I could barely breathe. No. I didn’t care. My father was back. And no, it didn’t look like him, but it was him, and that was all that mattered. Well, that, and that the loving, vibrant twinkle in my mother’s eyes was back. It was quite possibly the best gift in the world.
My father pulled away and tucked my hair behind my ear. “I missed you so much, Dakota.” His eyes then darted behind me. “Oh. What bad manners.” He gestured over my head. “May I introduce my son, Paul.”
I froze as my brain hammered away. No. No. It can’t be.
My father grabbed my shoulders and held me up. “I think she’s going to faint again.”
I looked at Paul and my brain couldn’t cope. It couldn’t. It’s not possible.
“Is it…?” My lungs pumped hard.
Paul smiled, and I knew.
It was Paolo.
Yes, his face looked very, very different and more refined. He’d also grown a beard, cut his hair, and wore blue contacts…but those lips and that devilish smile.
“I hope you don’t mind my being here.” He removed his glasses and put them inside his coat.
I didn’t know what to say. Or think. I mean, hearing his voice, but seeing some other guy’s face. And, holy freaking hell! It was a hot face. Seriously hot.
Paulo looked at my dad and shrugged. “That’s a first. She’s not talking.”
My mother reached out and swatted Paolo—I mean, Paul. “Oh, stop. Just give her a second.”
“Can I have a drink?” I said, unable to tear my eyes away from Paolo.
“Why don’t we give them a few moments alone,” said my father—I mean, Steve.
“Wait.” I held up my hand. “How did you guys—I mean…How? When?” I blew out a breath. I couldn’t speak.
“It was Paul’s idea, actually. He came looking for me, and what can I say? I taught him all of my t
ricks. He knew exactly where to find me.”
“This was your brainchild?” I asked Paolo.
He grinned, and it nearly sent me over the edge. It was the same wickedly handsome smile. “You gave me the idea when we saw each other in New York.” He also spoke with a slight twang. It was so frigging weird. And charming. And frigging weird. “I told you I couldn’t be someone else. But after you left, I realized I could be. We’d helped a lot of people start over—new names, new lives, new faces to match. The surgeons who work with us are the best in the world.”
“They made Elvis look almost exactly like Tom Selleck,” my father added.
Elvis was alive, too? “I need to sit. I need to sit.” I walked through the living room, dining room, and outside to my mother’s patio. I planted myself at the table next to the glowing blue pool. It was still early evening, but the winter sun had set hours ago.
I was so happy to see my dad back in our lives. I really, really was. But Paolo? I’d moved on. Hadn’t I?
Then why did seeing him again, hearing his voice…Ugh! It made my stomach feel all twisted and fluttery.
“I bet I know what you’re thinking.” Paolo’s voice came from behind me.
I didn’t reply.
“You’re thinking, how are you supposed to just accept this guy walking back into your life after he left you? You’re thinking that he hurt you before and made promises he didn’t keep, so how can he possibly be trusted?”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“I’m not going to ask you to forget everything and fall madly back in love with me—not after everything I’ve done.”
I turned in my chair and looked at Paolo. With the light from the house beaming behind him, all I could make out was his silhouette. It was Paolo’s silhouette.
“Why are you here, then?” I asked.
“To tell you that you were right. I was a coward. After hearing Felix shot you, I doubted every decision I’d ever made about us. I convinced myself you were better off without me, but in reality, I was scared. Just like I was the day I left you at the altar. Just like the day I handed you over to someone else and you ended up with that psycho.” Paolo referred to Mr. M.
“I’m glad you finally get it.”
“I do. And I don’t expect us to pick up where we left off. I don’t even expect you to see me again after tonight. I came because I wanted you to hear the truth.” He ran his hand over his dark short hair, just like he always had. Some things were hard to change. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
I nodded and then looked up at the starry sky. “Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome, Dakota.”
“And thank you for bringing my dad back.” Plastic surgery. Only these two would hatch up some crazy crap like that. And I had to admit, it was pretty dang smart. My father had died, my mother had moved on with a new guy, it was perfect. Of course, later I’d have to ask her when she’d found out my father was still alive. She couldn’t have known for long, because she wouldn’t be able to keep that sort of a secret from me for more than a few days.
But…how the hell did she forgive him? Maybe she was too happy to have him back to care. I didn’t know, but that sounded like her.
As for Paolo, his family believed that one of those men on the plane had been him. If any of the Abellis ever got out of prison, and those chances were slim to none given the magnitude of their crimes, they wouldn’t think to look for this guy. Paolo’s face was different enough that not even I would suspect. It really took a close look and knowing him extremely well to figure it out.
“It was the least I could do,” he said.
And it had been a really, really nice thing to do. Changing his face, however…wow. That had to take some seriously large cojones.
“I can’t believe you had surgery,” I said.
“They broke my nose and reshaped my jaw, cheekbones, and brow. It hurt like a motherfucker. However, it was nothing compared to the pain of losing you. All I’ve been able to think about was holding you again.” He reached down, grabbed my hand, and pulled me up, close to him.
The familiar feel of his warmth and the alluring scent of his skin instantly made my knees jitter. “I thought you said you were only here to tell me you were sorry.”
“I also came to tell you that staying away from you all those months made me realize a few things.”
“That you like Texan accents?”
He flashed a sweet, charming smile. “Like I was also afraid that someday you’d figure out you didn’t need me.”
I grinned and shrugged. “Already happened.”
His mouth twitched with a little smile. “I also realized that what I want and need are two different things.”
“Are you saying you want me?” I asked.
“I’m saying I love you, Dakota. And I meant what I said back in Rome. I have never stopped loving you, and I never will.” He placed his warm, rough hand on my cheek. “And I will be here for as long as it takes to convince you that I’m not leaving. Never again. Not for anything. I want to be with you.” He lowered his head and brushed his full, soft lips against mine.
God, he felt so good against my body.
He snaked his arms around my lower back and pulled me in closer, nuzzling his lips down the side of my neck. “I missed you, Dakota. So much.” He breathed his words into my neck, igniting delicious goose bumps all over my skin. Then I felt the unmistakable sign of his arousal pushed against my stomach, making me instantly heat up and pulse between my legs. “So many nights,” he whispered, “I’ve thought about touching you and making you moan.” He pulled me in tighter, brazenly letting me feel his hardness. “God, I want you so badly it hurts, Dakota.”
I held my breath and ran my hands through the back of his soft hair. I savored the feel of his lips gliding over that delicate skin just below my earlobes.
“The question is,” he whispered, “do you still want me?”
Perhaps I was no longer at the mercy of my feelings for him, but I’d never stopped wanting him. And I never would. “Yes, but this doesn’t mean we’re back together.”
He whispered, “No. Of course not.” He slipped his hands between our bodies, underneath the hem of my dress, and began massaging me over my panties. I released a quiet, breathy groan. He was so damned wicked. He knew what buttons to push. He knew what I liked. He knew I couldn’t resist.
My reaction to his touch only made him breathe harder. “God, I want to be inside you.” He slid his hand into my panties and began working the tip of his finger over that throbbing bud. Ohmygod. Ohmygod. He feels so good. He feels so damned—
“Dakota!” I heard my mother yell out. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh crap.” We both froze. “Yeah, Mom. Everything’s fine.”
“Dinner is served if you guys are ready,” she yelled from somewhere inside the house.
I made an awkward little laugh, and we untangled ourselves.
“I think we should go inside,” I said, unsure of what had happened. I mean, yeah, I knew what we’d just done, but what did it mean? I wasn’t about to wave my hands in the air, declare the past forgiven, and jump into a relationship again. Uh-uh. No way. Must resist hot Italian man who now looks like Rubén Cortada. That was the superhot Cuban model slash actor Mandy was into. She had pictures of him in her room alongside drawings of some men’s pants she’d done. But I swear, Paolo now looked like the man’s younger brother.
Paolo grabbed me and kissed me hard, his tongue stroking mine in a sinful, sensual rhythm. He then released me. “I’ll catch up.”
“Um…okay.” I nodded, feeling like I couldn’t catch my breath, and headed inside. How about just having sex with him? That’s fair game.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I found my mother and father in the kitchen, putting the slices of steaming turkey on a serving platter. My father had shed his suit coat and had his sleeves rolled up. He was actually helping her put the finishing touches on the salad. I’d never s
een the man in the kitchen, not because he was a chauvinist, but because he was usually doing something else—talking on his cell, working on his laptop, whatever. Now he looked relaxed, happy, and…well, like some other man.
“Where’s Paul?” my mother asked.
“Oh, uh…He said he’d be right here. He needed to do something.”
My mother and father exchanged glances. When we sat down at the long table in the dining room, Paolo appeared with his hairline wet around the edges like he’d just washed his face. With cold water.
“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, “I was just washing up for dinner.”
As dinner progressed, I kept looking over at Paolo. His new face was flawless—I mean, I couldn’t tell he’d had surgery. And he still had those perfect lips, but his brow, jawline, and…“I think you’re actually more beautiful than before. How’s that possible?”
I hadn’t realized I’d spoken out loud, but obviously I had.
“Everything else is still the same,” Paolo said with an intense gaze.
“Really?” I took a bite of a cherry tomato, not breaking eye contact with him.
“Okay! That’s enough,” said my mother, who sat by my side. “You two need to leave now.”
I looked at her, wondering what I’d done wrong. “But we haven’t finished eating and—”
She stood from the table. “No, really. All of this drooling and—just go. See you in the morning for presents.”
I looked at Paolo. He looked at me. Then we sprang from the table and I grabbed my purse and car keys on the way out the front door.
He grabbed my hand, not saying a word, and pulled me down the walkway toward the driveway.
“We can go to my place,” I said. “It’s five minutes from here.”
“I can’t wait that long.” Parked in front of my mother’s house was a black stretch limo.
“Is that yours?” I asked.
“Yeah. Your dad didn’t want you driving home drunk tonight.”