The Last Santini Virgin

But as the other man walked off toward his own car, Nick’s mind was racing. Gina Santini had called in reinforcements. Oh, maybe she hadn’t come right out and asked her brother-in-law to talk to him, but she’d probably expected him to. That meant she wasn’t retreating, only regrouping.

She may have won the first battle, but as far as Nick was concerned, the war was still on.

Three

Family-dinner night at the Santinis’ was always interesting. At least one night a week, no matter what else was going on in their lives, the Santinis came together over the dinner table. And for a couple of hours they caught each other up on the news, argued, laughed and ate themselves into a stupor.

Gina glanced around at the faces of her family and smiled to herself. Mama, of course, lonelier since Papa’s death two years ago, but still vibrant and deeply involved in whatever her daughters were up to. Then there was Angela, the oldest Santini sister. A widow herself, Angela and her son, Jeremy, had moved back home after her husband’s death three years ago. Jeremy was a great kid, Gina thought as her glance slid in his direction. And it was doing him a world of good to have Davis, Marie’s new husband, in the family. Jeremy’s father hadn’t been much good at the “family” thing. He’d made all of their lives miserable, and if anyone here was willing to admit it out loud, they’d have to say that Angela was actually happier as a widow than she had ever been when she was married.

But naturally no one would ever admit it.

Then there was Marie. Gina smiled to herself as she looked at the middle Santini sister. Since meeting and falling in love with Davis, Marie had really come into her own. Oh, she was still a great mechanic, and spent most of her time happily involved in some greasy job or other. But there was a sparkle in her eyes and a glow about her that hadn’t been there before Davis.

So basically, she told herself with an inward frown, every Santini at the table looked happy as a clam. Except of course, for her.

“I saw your Gunnery Sergeant Paretti today,” Davis said, and reached for the bowl of pasta.

Well, that came out of nowhere.

Gina looked at him. “He’s not my anything,” she said, and forked up a bite of salad.

“Yeah, well, I had a little talk with him, anyway,” her brother-in-law told her. He looked pretty pleased with himself about it, too.

Eyes wide, she hurriedly chewed, swallowed and said, “You talked to him? When? Where? What do you mean? What did you say?”

Davis shrugged, smiled at his wife, then looked back at Gina. “To answer your questions in order…after work, at the Staff NCO club, and I just told him you were my sister-in-law and I’d appreciate it if he’d back off.”

“Oh, great.” She dropped her fork with a clatter and sat back in her chair.

“Wasn’t that nice?” Mama asked no one in particular and reached out to pat Davis’s hand fondly.

“Nice?” Gina said, staring at her mother. “You think it’s nice?”

“What’s wrong with you?” Marie demanded. “Davis was just trying to help you out.”

“If he wanted to help,” Gina said, glaring at her sister, “then he should have simply run the man down in the street.”

“Oh,” Angela piped up, “there’s a plan.”

“Run who down?” Eight-year-old Jeremy asked.

“A nice Marine like Davis, dear,” Mama told him, and handed him more garlic bread. Unflappable, Mama let nothing interfere with dinner.

“No he’s not,” Gina said quickly.

“Nice?” Mama asked.

“Like Davis,” Gina clarified.

“What’s the big deal?” Angela asked as she poured her son more milk. “So Davis talked to him. You’re overreacting, Gina.”

“Big surprise,” Marie muttered.

“I am not overreacting,” Gina snapped. “How does this look? Now he thinks I went crying to my big brother-in-law wailing for help.”

“You did,” Marie reminded her, rising to her husband’s defense like a lioness defending its den.

“I did not,” she argued hotly, and shifted her gaze from Marie to Davis. “Did I ever ask you to talk to the man? Did I plead for your help?”

“No, but…” Davis squirmed in his chair.

Ordinarily Gina might have felt sorry for him, surrounded by women, the only other jolt of testosterone in the room coming from a boy too small to be on his side. But not tonight.

“Cut it out, Gina,” Marie said sharply. “Davis was trying to help you, for crying out loud. It’s your own fault. All you’ve done since starting those classes is complain about the man.”

Okay, so she’d complained a little. Wasn’t that one of the perks of having a family? They were supposed to let you rant and rave. She hadn’t noticed them rushing out to buy her new clothes when she complained about her wardrobe.

“Papa would have been pleased with what Davis did for you,” Mama said. “Family takes care of family.”

Oh, for pity’s sake, she made it sound like they were in the Mafia. What’s next? We send Nick a dead fish wrapped in newspaper?

“But…” Gina began.

“Davis went out of his way to find this guy, you know. He did you a favor. The least you could do is thank him.” Marie stared at her, silently waiting for Gina to do just that.

Five pairs of eyes watched her. She could hear the ticking of the mantel clock in the living room. No one moved. Damn it. Didn’t they understand that even though he’d meant well, Davis had just made a complicated situation even more difficult?

In an instant she recalled everything Nick had said to her after their last class. Spoiled. Pampered. Princess. Well, now, thanks to Davis’s well intentioned meddling, Nick would think himself proved right.

Why was her life suddenly so complicated?

Men, that’s why.

First, there had been Richard. A lawyer she’d dated long enough to convince her to take ballroom dancing lessons in order to fit into his social sphere. Unfortunately she’d stopped dating him before her second class. Though a perfectly nice man, they hadn’t shared enough chemistry to set off a sparkler.

Sparklers. Fireworks. Skyrockets.

The thought of which brought to mind the new male in her life. Nick Paretti. Her blood hummed in her veins. Her stomach pitched and rolled.

Oh, for Pete’s sake.

“Gina!”

Marie’s voice dragged her back to the moment at hand.

“You could at least pay attention when we’re arguing,” her sister said.

“Oh, I’m paying attention,” she muttered, then continued, “all I said was that Nick Paretti is a pain in the—”