A sense of peace settled over her. She murmured occasional comments to Gabby and Rocky, and slowly, her lids closed.
“Carina?”
Her name slid from his mouth like honey and caramel, all smooth and gooey and delicious. She smiled and lifted her face upward, too relaxed to lift her arms. The delicious smell of man, soap, and a hint of spicy cologne drifted on the breeze. “Hmmm?”
Gentle fingers caressed her cheek. She pressed against that warm hand and kissed his palm. A low mutter. “Ah, sweetheart, there’s a storm coming. You should come in.”
“ ’Kay.” She stretched, wanting him to strip off her clothes, part her thighs, and slide home. Her muscles clenched in delicious anticipation. She nibbled on his strong wrist and sighed. “Taste good. Smell good.”
“Dio, you are killing me.”
The fuzzy haze of sleep blurred her good intentions and her brain waves. She blinked and reached up. Pushed back the crisp strands of hair across his brow. Traced the arrogant hook of his nose, his soft, full lips. “You’re so beautiful,” she murmured. “Too beautiful for me, though. Aren’t you, Max?”
“Fuck this. I’m no saint.”
His lips coasted over hers. Warm, capable, sipping from her mouth like savoring an expensive glass of wine. His taste exploded on her tongue and she moaned, opening to him fully. He kissed her for long, slow moments that went on and on, until she melted into the chair and the flesh between her legs grew swollen and wet. When he finally lifted his head, she knew he’d won. Waited for him to pick her up and bring her into his bedroom. And at that moment, she didn’t care anymore.
The doorbell rang.
The ding caused Rocky to launch off his rest spot and bark. She bumped back into reality like a rough landing and pushed herself up. Max shook his head. “I may kill whoever’s at that door,” he said. With one last hard look, he disappeared through the French doors.
Carina slid out of the chair. She wondered if Fate stepped in to save her. How long could she hold out before falling back into his bed? The voice of her sister-in-law floated through the screen and she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She was safe from temptation now.
For a while.
Maggie waddled in looking generally huge, uncomfortable, and majorly pissed off. The black stretch knit dress hit her knees, and rhinestone flip-flops slapped over the marble floors. “If they don’t get out of me now, Carina, I’m gonna take them out myself.” She marched into the living room, stood at the edge of the comfy chair, and fell back. Carina had a feeling she wouldn’t be getting up unless they had a crane.
She clucked with sympathy and a bit of humor. “Probably next week, Maggie. They’re close.”
Maggie glared and took the glass of seltzer with lemon from Max. “No, they’re not. I just went to the doctor yesterday, who told me there wasn’t a contraction in sight. Nada. Niente. They’re nice and cozy in there. They get food, sleep, and play karate when they’re bored. Why would they come out?” She moaned. “I didn’t want to get a C-section unless necessary but I think it’s the only way. They need to feel threatened or they’ll never come out.”
Carina patted her sister-in-law’s hand. “I bet within five days you’ll be holding two perfectly healthy, happy babies. Remember the same thing happened with Alexa? She was two weeks late with her first.”
“Yeah, that was a riot. Nick almost drove to the hospital without her.”
Max brought Mama Conte some tea and they sat in front of the crackling fire. “Yeah, I heard that story, a pure classic. How is Alexa doing?” he asked.
“Fine. They took Lily to Sesame Place for the weekend. You know how she obsesses over Elmo.” Lightning lit the sky, and a rumble of thunder sounded low and threatening. “Supposed to be a wicked storm today. Hope Michael doesn’t get caught in it. He’s running late.”
“Yeah, he was going to take the car into Manhattan for his meeting, but decided on the train. There’s some big protest going on by Wall Street today and he didn’t want to get stuck in traffic. He should be okay.”
Maggie rubbed her massive belly. “Not sure if I can even eat tonight. Awful indigestion all day.” The ringing tune of “Sexy Back” boomed through the room, and Maggie reached over for her purse. “That’s Michael. I can’t reach it.”
Carina grabbed the hot pink cell phone and handed it to her. Maggie’s side of the conversation included curse words and sympathetic murmurings. Finally she clicked off. “You are not going to be believe this. There’s a major blackout in the city and all the trains are delayed. He’s stuck there for a few more hours.”
Carina nibbled on her lip. “Will he be okay? Are there police? Where is he right now?”
Maggie sighed. “He’s eating at La Mia Casa. It’s a little Italian restaurant I used to haunt, and now I got him addicted. I know Gavin, the owner. He’ll take good care of Michael.”
“Thank God. Well, you can sleep over here if you want. We’ll treat you to a homemade breakfast in the morning.”
Mama Conte snorted. “I will make breakfast, Carina. I miss not cooking for my family, and my skills are getting rusty. Tonight we will have a slumber party.”
“Can we watch Magic Mike?” Maggie asked.
Max lifted a brow. “Somehow I don’t think Mama Conte will like that choice.”
“Why?” the older woman demanded. “What is it about?”
“Male strippers,” Maggie said. “It’s good.”
Her mother looked thoughtful. “I will try it.”
Max groaned. “I’m going to kill Michael.”