All the Way (2 page)

“The bread was good.”

“Yeah, let’s give the place four stars.”

Miranda laughed. There was nothing her friend hated more than a disappointing Italian restaurant. “Don’t get cranky. We’ll just get a cannoli to go.”

He snorted.

She rose from the table. “Why don’t you grab the check while I go to the ladies room?”

“Okay, I’ll meet you out front.”

Her heels clicked against the wooden floor as she made her way toward the back of the dining area. Her gaze swept over her surroundings, noting the combination of old- and new-world style that made up the restaurant. One glance at the large modern bar showed her the restaurant was undergoing some growing pains, battling between the current times and the fight to keep tradition. Miranda pictured the mighty Gavin Luciano running the place like a pirate rules his ship.

She washed her hands and carefully checked her appearance. As she tried to smooth some loose tendrils of hair back into the French twist, her hands trembled. She dropped her arms and stared into the mirror.

Three years.

How long had she waited and hoped for him to return? To chase her and admit he’d fallen in love with her and wanted to stay?

Too long. Eventually, she grew up and grew strong. She realized he’d never come back, and she needed to build her own foundation.

Now he was back.

Miranda straightened her shoulders. It didn’t matter, of course. She’d walk right out of his restaurant tonight and never see him again. Only shock made her body seem so strangely out of control.

She swung open the door and started down the long hallway.

“God, you look good, Red.”

She froze, then turned slowly around and came face to face with her past. “Thanks. You haven’t changed a bit.”

He gave a soft laugh and moved forward. Waves of masculine energy emanated from his body, pulling her in. His gaze traveled over her face, her hair, and downward. “From someone else, I’d take that as a compliment. Coming from you, I’m a bit leery.”

Miranda struggled to remain cool and distant. “I’m sure my opinion won’t keep you up at night.”

A lazy grin curved his lips. “It’s not your opinion I’m worried about. There were always other things about you that kept me up at night.”

She jerked away as the intimate words flowed between them. “I’ve got to go.”

“Wait.” His hand shot out and closed around her upper arm. Shockwaves of heat ripped through her, and she stepped back, suddenly afraid of him. He seemed to sense her wariness, and allowed her the space. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“There’s nothing left to say.”

He winced. “I tried to contact you, you know. I mean, I wanted to contact you.”

“I see. Well, that makes up for everything, I guess. Thanks for clearing up the misunderstanding.”

He let out his breath. “Dammit, Miranda, please listen to me. I want to explain.”

She shook her head. “You’re amazing. You actually think after bumping into me by accident you can clear up the past in one tidy episode? I have news for you. It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re angry. I can understand that.”

She laughed. “I’m not angry. I’m not sad. I just don’t feel anything. I put what happened between us behind me, and have no need to dredge it back up.”

“Because of him?” Gavin jerked his thumb down the hallway. “The guy you’re with?”

Her mouth dropped open. “I don’t believe you’re asking me that question.”

“I don’t think he’s right for you,” he stated.

“You’re insane. I’m not staying around to hear more of your ranting. We have an opera to catch.”

This time he stopped her retreat by backing her up against the wall. He leaned in. The familiar scent of lemon and spice swarmed around her, and though her mind screamed she hated him, her body remembered him as a lover. Her nipples rose in unconscious demand against the black wool of her dress, and liquid heat pooled between her thighs. Sexual energy hummed and sizzled in the air.

“Let me go,” she whispered.

“It’s still there, Miranda.”

She took in the arrogant thrust of his jaw, the curve of his lower lip, the Roman nose that dominated his face. His lips stopped inches from hers, and his breath rushed warmly against her mouth.

“What do you want from me?” she asked. “Do you want to play more head games? I don’t need another roller coaster ride for excitement. Find another player.”

One thumb tipped her chin up. Something deep inside stirred back to life as she glimpsed a swirling array of emotions reflected in his features. Regret. Pain. Desire. “God forgive me for hurting you like I did,” he said.

Her voice trembled. “Let me go.”

“I made that mistake three years ago. I’m not about to make it again.”

“You arrogant, son of a—” she broke off and struggled for control. “I’m not interested in what you want anymore.”

The pad of his thumb dragged over her lower lip, and she caught the gleam of determination and resolve glimmering in his eyes. Her heart stopped. She held her breath and waited for him to say the words.

“I was going to leave you alone.” His lips twisted in a self-deprecating smile. “But now I can’t. Let me explain why I left.”

Seconds ticked by. The clatter of china and glasses rung through the air. Mercifully, numbness settled over her, as she stared at the man who had walked away without a good-bye. His explanation was too late.

He was too late.

Miranda removed his hand and pushed against his chest. He stepped back, and she moved around him. Silence blanketed the long hallway. Finally, she straightened her shoulders and spoke, her voice devoid of emotion.

“Good-bye, Gavin.”

She turned and walked away.

About time he stared at a woman’s back and dealt with dismissal. His overwhelming arrogance stole her breath and her sanity, turning her into the tired, stereotypical representation of a woman scorned. With each stride to her table, her wrath rose and stripped away all of the surface layers she’d worked so hard to re-build.

He probably believed a good explanation would make everything he’d done forgivable. Gavin always gained things too easily, whether it be women, sex, or love. How would it feel to have him finally experience real loss? Messy emotion?

The sweet ache to get even pulsed in her gut. Too bad there wasn’t a way to teach him a well-earned lesson in humility.

Miranda dragged in a breath and settled her composure. She refused to let the man ruin her evening. He’d ruined enough of her days to last a lifetime.

She left the restaurant and didn’t look back.

Chapter Two

The woman on stage moved toward the center. She flung her arms outward in a symbol of surrender, acceptance, power. Her voice, delicate as a spider’s web, skimmed over the room. She invited her audience to share her journey, to open their hearts and souls for this brief moment in time; to share the pain and pleasure of life. And, suddenly, the voice grew larger, booming and echoing off the walls as she challenged the Gods to one final battle. The music became her defender, swelling with majestic force, and the audience held their breath as they hoped. They knew the ending, and yet, a tiny voice whispered in their ears to wait. Perhaps, this time, love will conquer all. Even death.

The last note of her aria rang through the air as she fought her fate. For one instant, Miranda believed the woman had won. Then she collapsed as the curtain crashed to the floor.

Miranda sucked in a ragged breath. The thunderous applause of the audience comforted her as she brushed away the stray tear and remained seated in the darkness. Years ago, she vowed never to cry over life’s events, but allowed herself this one luxury. Weeping at the opera was entirely acceptable.

“Are you okay?”

She turned toward Andy with a smile. “I’m fine. I hope you weren’t too bored.”

Her friend gathered his cashmere coat as the lights went up. “It was fine,” he responded gruffly.

She wiggled herself into the sleeves of her lime green raincoat. “No matter how many times I see
La Traviata
, I always hope the ending will be different. Didn’t you think—” she stopped short when she caught the telltale dampness on her friend’s cheek. “Andy, you were crying.”

He gave a disgusted snort and turned his back. “Don’t be ridiculous. Real men don’t cry.”

She laughed and trotted behind as they left the Metropolitan Opera house. The chandeliers dripped with opulence and shimmered over the crowd as they fought their way down the elaborate staircase. The dark wine carpeting cushioned her step.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” she sang. “You loved it and you were crying. Admit the truth, or I’ll tell Elaine you sobbed and caused a scene.”

“The pasta sauce went to your brain,” he said.

Miranda made a face as the icy blast of New York City air hit her full force.

He pulled his lapels up around his neck. “Anyway, stop distracting me. You never told me what your boyfriend wanted to talk to you about.”

“Ex-boyfriend.” She cinched the belt tighter as they headed toward the parking garage.

“He looked like he wants to rekindle the romance. What’s the deal?”

They ignored the flashing
Don’t Walk
sign and cut in front of a hurtling taxicab. The driver beeped and stuck up a middle finger, but she shrugged it off. She knew deep down the driver wouldn’t have thought twice about running her down and leaving her carcass in the street. God, she loved the ruthlessness of the city. And how sick did that make her? The conversation she’d been desperate to forget hovered on the edges of her sanity.

“The deal is quite simple. Asshole wants to explain why he left.”

Andy snickered. They paid the attendant, hopped in the car, and cut into a throng of traffic. Her friend didn’t speak for a while, as they eased one inch per minute, until his curiosity finally won. “What do
you
want?”

She shrugged. “I want him to leave me alone. I want to forget I ever fell in love with him and was stupid enough to think he loved me. He completely humiliated me. I opened up to him, let myself be vulnerable, and he left. Now I want to get on with my safe, orderly life.”

“So, what are you afraid of? You’re in control now. Maybe it’s time you proved that to yourself.” He grinned. “Maybe it’s time you taught Asshole a lesson.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do women let men walk all over them? Look, he acted like a jerk and now he thinks he can corner you in the hallway and go back to the way things were. Think like a man. Hit him where he hurts the most.”

Miranda winced. “Doesn’t sound very charitable. Aren’t I supposed to be the better person?”

“Didn’t you ever hear of eye for an eye?”

“What am I supposed to do, get a couple of hoods to do a number on him?”

“Actually, I know this guy from the Mafia who—”

“Andy!”

“Kidding, just kidding. You’ll think of something. Picture thousands of women across the globe, waiting for you to bring justice to their gender.”

“Do you eavesdrop on Elaine’s conversations to come up with this stuff?”

“I watched Oprah once. But now that she’s retired, I’m into Dr. Phil. My therapist approves.”

She adjusted the heat of the vents and fought a shiver. “This whole conversation is ridiculous. I’ll never see him again. He may want me back, but I’ve moved on.”

“Why don’t you sound convinced?”

She looked out the window and tried to hold back the memories. “You don’t know how the relationship was. He had this sort of spell over me.”

“Like a weird sexual power?”

Miranda smothered a laugh. “Close. He’d just scored a partnership in MacKenzie & Associates Advertising, where he was used to getting what he wanted. And he wanted it all. Travel, power, money.” She shook her head in disgust. “But I saw something else in his eyes.”

“Uh-oh. Let me guess. A gleam of vulnerability. A bit of loneliness. All the things that trip up a woman.”

“Yep.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Of course, he told me the rules up front. He didn’t want any heavy commitments, and I accepted the terms. Until I fell in love with him.”

“I assume he didn’t suffer from the same emotions?”

The car pulled up to her apartment complex. “Guess not. After my big confession, he left. I never saw him again.”

“Until tonight.” Andy cursed and gripped the steering wheel. “He was probably running scared. We tend to flee when things get too heavy. God knows Elaine freaked me out when I realized she was the one, and it took a long time for me to finally realize it, too. Think about what I said. A little revenge may teach him a lesson. Not to mention how good it would feel.”

“Good night, Andy. Thanks for going to the opera with me. You can drop Stephen off at my house Saturday night.”

A flicker of guilt crossed his face. “I didn’t really mean we had to trade services, Miranda. You don’t have to babysit if you don’t want.”

“A deal’s a deal. You go to the opera with me, and I babysit. Besides, I love Stephen.”

“Oh, you like horns on a kid, huh?”

She grinned and got out of the car. “Like father like son.”

“Ouch. Get some sleep.”

She shut the door and shivered in the damp air. With a quick wave to the security guard, she took the elevator up and hurried inside. Her heels came off in record time, and she quickly stripped, threw on a T-shirt and shorts, and collapsed on the slate gray sofa.

Silence enveloped the room. A silence she’d become used to. A silence she learned to cultivate after realizing her life had become a series of adventures with no end, turning her into an excitement junkie.

So, she’d changed.

Quiet now meant peace. Security. Safety.

Miranda listened to the steady pelt of rain against the window. So why did the silence suddenly feel so empty?

She groaned and buried her face in the velvety cushion. What was the matter with her? She was a strong, capable woman, and Gavin’s crazy declaration meant nothing.

Just like she hadn’t meant anything to him.

The demons rose before her, flashing and taunting even as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out the images. But they were stronger than her will and dragged her back. Forced her to remember.

“Talk to me, baby.” His mouth nibbled on her ear, did delicious things to her neck, and with one quick movement, strong hands ripped open her blouse.

She gasped, knowing this was the beginning of the game that would end in a rocket of pleasure. Knew the rough play ended in the most explosive orgasm she’d ever experienced.

“Tell me where you want to be touched.”

She guided her hands to her breasts and arched. “Here. Oh, yes, like that.”

His mouth replaced his fingers as he took one ruby crest between his lips and sucked hard. Her skirt fell around her feet and he caressed her buttocks through the silk of her panties. Liquid fire pooled between her thighs.

“More?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

She grabbed his hand and pressed it against her throbbing clit. His leg hooked under her knee and lifted her up, bracing her against the wall so she was splayed open. One finger slipped beneath the elastic edge. Paused. And plunged deep. “Here?”

Her head hit the wall and her teeth bit down on her lower lip. On the verge of orgasm, she fought for control. “Yes.” She fumbled with his belt buckle, frantic to get him as deep inside her as possible.

He gave a low laugh filled with satisfaction. “You’re a greedy woman, Miranda.” Her hands closed around hard, silky flesh and squeezed. His gasp drove her on as she stroked his hard length. “Tell me what I want to hear.”

“I want you.”

He lifted her up. “Wrap your legs around me tight,” he commanded. She obeyed immediately, knowing he liked control, liked watching her lose her sanity before he gave in to his own satisfaction. “Look at me.”

Steel-blue eyes caught and held hers. Raw emotion and need exploded from her gut and shimmered through her and suddenly she knew. Knew he claimed more than her body in that moment. Somehow, in a matter of weeks, he’d claimed her mind and heart and soul.

“Say it again.”

Her flesh burned and shivered, as if caught between excruciating heat and bitter cold. “I want you, Gavin.”

He plunged hard. A cry escaped her lips as he buried himself deep and her body welcomed him. He moved, and she dug her nails into the hard muscles of his shoulders.

“Show me how much. Give me what I need.”

He rocked his hips against hers and took her on a wild ride. With each thrust, he made her beg, until the familiar ritual became much more. The orgasm screamed through her as loud and harsh as her words exploding in the air.

“I love you Gavin, I love you, love you…”

Miranda shot off the sofa with an agonized moan and headed toward the kitchen. With deliberately steady motions, she went through her nightly ritual of making tea. But the familiar actions didn’t bring back the numbness. Pain bubbled up deep and demanded entry into vulnerable crevices shut down long ago.

Damn him for leaving her.

Damn him for coming back.

He fled with her humiliating words echoing in the air between them, leaving something bigger than she’d ever thought possible. Alone—with a decision that could change both of their lives forever. She rested her hands on her belly and remembered. Like mother, like daughter. Except she would have made the right decision. She wouldn’t have abandoned her baby.

Miranda slammed the mug down on the gleaming white counter. Oh, what she would give to see him suffer emotionally as she had. Just once. Andy mentioned revenge, and Lord knows she was tempted, especially after the stunt Gavin pulled tonight.

Her gaze snagged on the pile of newspapers stacked neatly on the side. No use wasting time on crazy daydreams. She needed to write up her review on the new Thai restaurant, and plan the angle she wanted to approach her column. Her fans were wild about her sharp witty banter and ability to honestly pick apart a dining experience like a story, rather than the mean club approach too many critics prided themselves on.

She’d finally achieved her dreams and reached a semi-celebrity status in the foodie world. Between her regular critic reviews and her HotSpot feature for Foodie magazine, she was well recognized and respected in the industry.

Her mind sifted through the possibilities, remembering that awful spaghetti she’d consumed a few hours ago. Too bad Gavin’s restaurant sucked. How did he possibly make a profit? She figured Mia Casa wouldn’t be in business too much longer with a chef like that, and—

Gavin’s restaurant.

Column.

Miranda froze. The idea danced before her, ripe with possibilities. She quickly sorted through the ethics of her decision, but after a few moments, the plan hit in vivid, shattering force.

Oh yeah. She had a new idea for Sunday’s issue.

And it was going to be a doozy.

…

“We’re ruined! Completely ruined!”

Gavin shifted in the leather barstool. His mother threw up her hands in typical Italian fashion. He wondered if it was too early to have a drink. Usually, prepping for the day’s work gave him a surge of adrenalin. This morning, the scene reminded him of a funeral, and nobody could do a funeral as well as his family. Pop sat across from Brando with a look of doom on his face. His younger brother already had a pout to his lip, which meant he was on the defensive. And Antonio glanced from one to the other as if just waiting to be challenged.

With resignation, Gavin picked up the paper and stared at the
Miranda Eats
column. The heading jumped out at him and made his fingers itch to hold a shot glass:

Mia Casa Caves In.

His mother paced and wrung her hands. “In all the years open for business, we’ve never had such a review. Giovanni, what did you do to this food critic?” She peered over her glasses in accusation.

He winced again at his God-given name and reigned in his patience. He hated the family name, and changed it to Gavin years ago. His parents refused to acknowledge the change, so now he felt as if he had two identities. Of course, he could’ve been named Sonny from
The Godfather
, their favorite movie, so he figured he was lucky.

“Nothing, Mama.” He took note of his father’s frown and obvious disappointment. “We had some problems last night, but I had no idea she was doing an official review.”

Antonio slammed a meaty fist down on the table. “How can I work in such chaos?” he demanded. “Waiters call in sick, Brando’s on the phone all night with his girlfriend, and my wife is having an affair.” He let out a long stream of Italian curses. “I cannot perform under such conditions.”