Educating Gina. Debbi Rawlins
thing he liked about her. How she did everything with such gusto, totally unselfconscious. There was no worrying about how she looked or acted. When she got excited about something, the whole world knew it, and she didn’t seem to care.
And God knows, she got excited a lot. Her accent would get thick and she’d throw in a few Italian words. Mike understood some of them from listening to Antonio and his two brothers-in-law, Augie and Lorenzo, talking at the office.
“Let’s go find some shade.” He carried the bag with her skirt and the other pair of jeans they’d bought.
The sack with her lingerie purchase got lost in the scuffle she’d had with the two men, and Mike had to ruthlessly push the reminder aside. There was nothing he could do except get angrier than he could remember ever getting in his life.
It wasn’t only about being responsible for her welfare on Antonio’s behalf. But the idea that her trust and innocence could be stolen by two low-life jerks made his blood boil. That it could happen practically under his nose made him feel guilty as hell.
But to her credit, she was resilient. She hadn’t let the incident affect her mood. When Mike had mentioned how admirably she was handling things, she’d looked at him with round trusting eyes and said she’d never be frightened with him near to keep her safe.
Fool that he was, his ego had inflated like a balloon. And then headed straight back to guilt. What if something had happened to her? What if—
“We will sit here?” She stopped at an oak tree, its roots bulging from the ground. But that didn’t stop her from finding a narrow spot in the grass.
She plunked down and then patted the area beside her. He didn’t have much choice. He settled in close. Too close.
“I like Central Park very much.” She smiled at him. “We can come again, yes?”
“I don’t know. You wear me out.”
She frowned.
“I’m kidding.”
“Oh.” She took the last bite of her hot dog and wiped her mouth.
His gaze lingered on her lips. Moist and peach-colored, they alone got his adrenaline pumping. Her tongue darted out to swipe a tiny crumb from the corner of her mouth, and he had to look away.
“What kind of exercise do you do?”
He brought his gaze back to meet her curious eyes. “Exercise?”
She nodded. “Everyone needs to exercise.”
“I get enough running around the office.”
She made a face. “That is not the same thing.”
“I work a lot of hours. I don’t have time.”
“Does my uncle work you that hard?”
Mike snorted. “I work me that hard.”
“That is not good,” she said, shaking her head with concern. “Do you swim?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t for a while.”
She extended her hands behind her and leaned back. The reclining position showed off her flat belly and made her breasts jut out. “Tomorrow, we will swim.”
Amused at her confidence, he asked, “Where?”
“You do not know of a place?” She frowned, and then her eyes brightened. “Coney Island. I read about it on the airplane.”
He hadn’t been there in years. “Maybe.”
“Why maybe?”
“Because I have a lot of work to catch up on. I thought you could go to the library for the morning and—”
She groaned. “I can go to the library at home. I want to see New York.”
Great. “We can’t go out every minute.”
“Why not?”
He laughed. “Look, how about if you go to the office with me and use my computer while I get some paperwork out of the way, and then we’ll spend the afternoon out.”
“At Coney Island?”
“I was thinking a museum. The Guggenheim?”
“Oh, yes, that is on my list.”
“Oh, great, you have a list.” He sighed. “You have any rest time on that list?”
She laughed. “Come,” she said, sitting up straight and then scooting backward until her back rested against the tree trunk.
“Where?”
“Here.” She tugged at his sleeve until he leaned toward her. “Closer.”
What the hell was she doing? Knowing it was trouble, he shifted his butt a foot closer.
She put an arm around his shoulder and urged him to put his head on her lap. He resisted, but she gave him a smile that sent his resolve floating off in the warm breeze.
“What? You think I’m too old to keep up? I need a nap?”
“Yes.”
“Hey.” He started to lift his head.
Laughing, she splayed her fingers through his hair and gave it a small tug, forcing him to rest his head on her thighs. He complied, but she left her fingers in his hair and gently massaged his scalp.
He briefly closed his eyes at the soothing sensation.
“This is not a good idea,” he finally said, yet made no move to get up.
“Why not?”
He opened his eyes. She looked down at him in innocent confusion, her fingers continuing to work their magic. “You don’t know?”
She blinked. “Papa used to like when I rubbed his scalp. He said it relaxed him.”
Mike snorted. Obviously her mind wasn’t in the gutter with his. God, he was a dope.
Her fingers stilled. “But I never got a funny feeling in my stomach with Papa.”
Mike sat up.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked, her eyes filled with genuine concern.
He shook his head as he got to his feet. Was she really this naive? “We’d better start back. In another hour it’s going to be tough to get a cab.”
She held out her hand and he pulled her to her feet. Without warning, she kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for the nice day.”
“Don’t mention it.” He quickly backed away.
“Scusi.” She made a sound of impatience. “Excuse me, I do not understand. I did something wrong?”
He smiled. “It’s a term that means what I did was nothing. Don’t give it another thought.”
“Oh, but that is not true.” She slid her arms around his waist and looked up into his eyes. “You have given me the perfect day.”
“Yeah, well, I’m glad you liked it.” He tried to disengage her arms. “I don’t think you should be doing that.”
She held on tightly. “Why? Because you make my stomach, um, what is the word? Jump? Flutter?”
“Gina.” He drawled her name into a warning she ignored.
“Mike?”
“Yes?” He took a step back. She moved along with him.
“Can I ask for one more thing?”
“What?” he asked slowly, his gaze hopelessly tangled with hers.
“Will you kiss me?”
His gaze stayed locked with hers another moment, until he realized