Secret Pleasure (3 page)

He played her name over in his head a few times—Airlea—it -sounded good in his head and he itched to say it out loud, just to see how it would feel on his tongue.

His attention snapped back to the room when he heard his aunt start talking about him wanting a shower.

“Oh, if you will give me a few minutes, I’ll change and help,” Airlea was saying.

The last thing he wanted this woman to do was help bathe him.

“No, I don’t want your help.” He knew it had come out harsher than he had intended, but he had no intentions of revealing what the sight of this woman had done to him. At least not with his mother and aunt in the room.

“Dante!” His mother crossed her arms. “You will apologize to Miss Rossi right now.

“No, Mother. You’re the one that wanted me to have a nurse. I don’t need anyone’s help. I can shower on my own.”

“Really? Is that why you were lying on the floor a few minutes ago? Because I’m sure the fall did wonders for your leg, not to mention that shoulder. You’re right,” Airlea said in a sharp tone, then she turned to his mother. “As you can see, Mrs. Cardone, your son is perfectly capable of helping himself. I don’t know what all your worry and stress is about. We should just leave him to crawl around on the floor like an animal or a child until he decides it’s time to be a man and ask for help.”

Then she started walking towards the door, while Dante’s mother and aunt stood with their mouths dropped open, and their eyes almost bugging out.

“Good, go. I don’t need your help,” he said and smiled, thinking he had just solved his problems. Then she turned on him and marched to the end of his bed. Her eyes could have lit his mattress on fire.

“
You are such an arrogant ass, can’t you see what you’ve done to these poor women? You’ve been running your aunt ragged, look at her. She looks like she hasn’t had a good night’s rest in weeks.” She motioned toward his aunt. He did look now for the first time, and realized she was right. His aunt’s shirt was untucked from her long skirt, her hair was a mess, her eyes had dark circles under them, and he could see the worry in her eyes. “And your poor mother, in the last ten minutes since my arrival, she’s walked around the house like she couldn’t find anything; her mind is obviously consumed with worry.”

He looked toward his mother and could see it clearly in her eyes now.

“
Not to mention your father. Do you know the entire drive up here, he couldn’t stop talking about how great it was that you would be getting the help you needed?” She crossed her arms and took a step back. “But I can see you have everything under control now. You’re right, Mr. Cardone, you don’t need me, but your family certainly does. Think about that.” She started walking towards the doorway, and looked over her shoulder. “Oh, and let me know when you want to take that shower, because something in this room stinks.” Then she walked out.

He couldn’t help it, he smiled as he watched her back disappear through the doorway. Then he looked at his mother’s face and the smile dropped away.

“Dante Damiano Cardone, is that how I raised you?” She moved to the edge of his bed and looked down at him with disapproving eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mama.” He looked over at his auntie. “Auntie, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was such a burden.”

“Oh no! Cucciola mia, you are no burden to me. We don’t need her.” His aunt started walking towards his bed and stopped when his mother turned her head abruptly and glared at her. “Well, we don’t.”

“Florentina, I’ve hired Miss Rossi because she is a qualified nurse who has many years’ experience with helping others in these circumstances. She is a practiced physical therapist.” She turned on Dante now. “Which you need. So, I don’t want to hear another word about her leaving this house until I say she leaves. Are we clear?” She looked at him until he nodded his agreement. Then she turned on his aunt. “This goes for you, too. Damiano agrees with me that Miss Rossi is needed and I won’t have you underfoot. You need your rest; let her take care of Dante for now.” His aunt just looked at his mother. His mother took the silence as her agreement and walked out.

A
irlea sat down with Dante’s medical file, which Kathleen had given her, in the large room which was going to be hers. Her room had a large, queen-sized four-poster bed. She felt like the pauper in one of the old children’s stories her mother used to read her.

The room was three times the size of her entire apartment. Its light mocha-colored walls made her feel welcomed. The rich cream bedspread felt soft and comfortable under her fingers. Her two bags had been sitting at the end of the bed when she’d walked in. Looking around, she wondered what she was doing here. How had she let her mother maneuver her into taking this job?

After meeting Dante Cardone, she questioned if she was going to last very long here. He might be a gorgeous package on the outside, but inside he was a spoiled brat. She’d treated him like she had all children that were having a tantrum. She was very lucky her mouth hadn’t gotten her fired. Instead, Mrs. Cardone had praised how she had handled her son.

“Dante needs a firm hand. He’s in a lot of pain and I know you can help him shake off this foul mood,” Kathleen had told her.

What gave her the opinion Airlea was qualified to handle a twenty-something-year-old man-boy? She’d been honest and upfront with his mother: she was used to dealing with children, not men.

She knew that Dante’s aunt was going to be a problem. She just knew it. After meeting the older woman, she could tell it was going to be difficult to control his recovery. She knew she had to get the upper hand with the woman right off.

Standing up, she walked over and unzipped her bag, taking out her black nurse scrubs. She started to change while thinking of her next move with Dante.

She’d looked over his medical file and knew the extent of his injuries. This gave her a good idea what he could handle and what he couldn’t. Now she just needed him to trust that she knew what he needed. And she knew he needed a shower first. But how would she manage such a feat? With children it had been so much easier. Sure, she’d been trained to handle every situation, but she’d chosen pediatric physical therapy for a reason. She enjoyed dealing with children more than full-grown adults.

Finally dressed, she looked at herself in the large mirror on the wide chest of drawers. Smoothing her dark hair straight, she moistened her lips and held her head up as she went to complete a task that neither she nor Dante wanted to do.

When she walked in, he was sitting on the bed, his arms crossed over his bare chest. He glared at her.

“I know why you’re here, and you can just forget it. You are not bathing me.” He spoke in English. She knew that his mother wished for everyone to speak English while she was around, so she tried to accommodate her.

“
Now Mr. Cardone, you don’t—”

“Don’t call me that,” he interrupted.

Her eyebrows shot up and she gave him a questioning look. “Just what should I call you?”

“Dante would be fine.” He kept his eyes glued to her face.

“Fine.” She smiled, trying to show him that she, too, could be reasonable. “Now, Dante, you don’t—”

“What are you wearing?” he interrupted her again.

She stopped and looked down at herself. “I’m wearing my physical therapist scrubs. Now, if you don’t—”

“Why?” again he interrupted her.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes on a wave of impatience and had a quick thought that children were easier to deal with than full-grown, sexy men. “Why what?”

“Why are you dressed like that?”

“I have no intention of getting my own clothes wet, and I get to keep them free of fluids such as blood, puss, vomit, and whatever else comes with my job. These are much easier to clean. Now, if you don’t mind,” she paused, waiting to see if he would interrupt her again. “With a little help, we can get you into the shower.” She walked into the adjoining bathroom to assess how she would accomplish the task.

To her delight and relief, the bathroom was perfect for the task. Its marble floors would be slippery if they became wet, but that was the only problem she could see. The large glass shower would be easy to help him in to, and once there, there was a large bench along the stone wall of the shower for him to sit on. The shower head could easily be handed to him and he could shower himself. She walked over and set the bottle of shampoo and soap on the lower shelf so he could easily reach them. Then she hung several large towels on the towel rack, within reach.

Opening the door wide, she grabbed his robe which she had found on the back of the bathroom door. Carrying it back into the room, she smiled down at him.

“Shall we get you into the shower?” He took the robe and twirled his finger in a circle. She turned around, putting her back to him while he donned the robe.

“I don’t need your help. I’m only going along with this for my mother’s and aunt’s sakes.”

“I understand.” She kept the smile to herself, since her back was still to him. She heard him struggling to get the robe around his hurt shoulder.

“I’m done,” he said. When she turned around, she noticed that he had put his right arm through the sleeve, but his left one hung free, since his shoulder’s movement was limited. He’d tied the robe as tight as he could and he’d moved his legs to the edge of the bed.

“How are you going to help me?”

“Well, if you’d give me your hand, I can help you stand and you can use me to lean on as you walk.” She held out her hand.

“What? That’s your great, medically educated plan?” He looked shocked. “I haven’t stood up in almost two weeks, I have several pins in my leg, and you expect me to just stand up and walk into the restroom with only the help of a weak, hundred-pound woman?”

“I’m not weak.” She pulled him up until he stood beside her. He was a lot taller than she’d imagined, and bigger. He towered over her now and she realized she just might be in trouble. Straightening her shoulders, she wrapped her arm around his waist and realized it was narrower than his chest, a lot narrower. She wrapped both her hands around him, trying to steady him as he teetered on his good leg.

“Hold still. Steady!” She tried to steady him, then they were both tumbling down, landing softly on the large bed. She was sprawled on top of him, her hands now trapped underneath him as his arms came around her, holding her down to him.

“Well, that worked out perfectly,” he said sarcastically and looked up at her. She could feel her face heat.

“Will you move so I can get my hands back?” She tried to push him away while pulling her arms free from underneath him. He didn’t move; instead, he locked his hands behind her back, and pulled her closer.

“Mmm, I don’t think so. I like it right where I’m at.”

She stopped wiggling long enough to look at him. “You did that on purpose!” When he just smiled, she looked into his face and could almost see red. “Mr. Cardone, you may not be aware, but you stink, and this bed and its sheets stink. And there is no doubt in my mind that it’s been over a week since the last time someone tried to clean you or them. So, if you would kindly release me before I’m forced to lose my lunch all over you, we can try to remedy the stench in this stale room.”

He laughed, actually laughed at her. But then he rolled to his right and then his left, releasing her arms from underneath him.

Standing up, she straightened her shirt and hair, then looked back down at him. “Now, shall we try this again?”

After she had him settled on the shower seat still wearing his robe, she exited the room, knowing he could handle everything from there. She had warned him about getting his upper leg and shoulder too wet, but knew it didn’t really matter since she needed to change the bandages anyway after he showered.

She spent the next twenty minutes removing and replacing his sheets and bedding. She found several sets of sheets in a large walk-in hall closet that Kathleen had shown her during her short tour. She met Teresa, one of the workers that Kathleen had mentioned. Teresa was one of the two maids who worked at the house along with Rosa, who worked in the kitchen. Rosa was a frail, older looking woman who seemed friendly enough. She had been wearing an oversized apron and was busy cooking when Airlea had met her. Kathleen had said there were a dozen or so workers who worked outside with Damiano.

She had a short conversation with the Teresa who was very young and looked like she’d just graduated from school. She had short, dark hair and very thick glasses, which gave her a stylish bookworm look. Airlea instantly liked the girl.

She took Dante’s pillows out on the balcony and banged them together, trying to freshen them up a bit. Then she placed the new pillow cases on them and straightened his room, taking her time as she dusted his tables and nightstands off. There had been a fine layer of dust on everything, probably dirt from the fields coming in through the open doors and settling on everything.

She knocked on the bathroom door when she heard the water shut off. She opened the door a crack. “Is everything all right?”

“
Yes, I’m done.”

She walked in and saw him standing in the shower, holding himself up against the wall, a towel tied loosely around his waist. She’d seen him naked earlier, but only from the back. Now she looked at his chest and almost lost her breath. There was a little bruising left over from his accident, but for the most part he looked healthy and whole. His chest was impressive. His dark skin stretched over the tight muscles and she could see his nipples as water dripped down him. His black hair was wet and he’d run his fingers through it, pushing it off his face. He hadn’t shaved, and the dark stubble made him look pretty damn sexy. Water dripped down his arms and legs and she had a strong urge to walk over and lick it all off of him.

Shaking her head clear, she set a pair of his slippers in front of him. “These will help with traction. We don’t want you slipping and falling.”

“You forgot my razor. I still need a shave.”

“I’ll bring everything to you in a while. It’s almost time for dinner and time for your medicine.”

It was complete torture when he leaned his wet, toned body against hers as she walked him back to the room. How could a man feel so good against her skin?

She’d experienced plenty of men before, and had just gotten out of a six-month relationship with Angelo. You never truly knew a person until you had to deal with them twenty-four-seven. Angelo had turned from a charming prince into a control freak who had to know her every move.

She pulled the bed covers back farther, allowing Dante to sit on the edge. “I’ve laid out some clothes that I think we can manage to put on without damaging your shoulder and leg.” She reached for the sweat shorts and a wide necked

t-shirt.

“
I can dress myself,” he barked.

“I know you can, but I need to get a look at your incisions and rods. I need to make sure everything looks clean.” She bent over and grabbed the new gauze and medical tape. “If you’ll sit back…” she motioned for him to lean against the headboard.

“I can change my own—”