Courting Justice Page 8

  Angelo smiled and leaned over and placed another kiss on Peyton’s lips. The contact sent sensations whirling around inside of her. “I intend to spend tomorrow with Peyton as well. In fact, I don’t see myself having any free time for a while.”

  Peyton thought it couldn’t get any plainer than that, but from the look on Lela’s face, she knew the woman still refused to accept that Angelo just wasn’t interested. And Angelo wasn’t sugarcoating anything. He was clearly letting her know he wasn’t interested. Since Lela had decided to confront Angelo at the party, they had an audience.

  Peyton found it amusing that Lela had intended to embarrass her. And it was obvious from the look on her face that Lela didn’t like the turn of events. Lela shifted her gaze from Angelo to Peyton, and if looks could kill, Peyton thought, then she’d be six feet under.

  Lela glanced back to Angelo. “I’ll be here for a while so eventually we will have a chance to talk.” Then, without waiting for Angelo to respond, she walked away, as every man in the room watched and drooled.

  Peyton glanced over at Angelo and whispered, “She doesn’t plan on giving up, you know.”

  He smiled, and she realized just how close together they were. “I’m not worried. Eventually she’ll come to her senses.”

  Peyton tried to move back, putting some distance between them. But Angelo reached out and placed a hand on her arm. “Stay close to me. She might come back.”

  Although it was highly unlikely, she stayed put. “All right.”

  At that moment the waiter returned. “Would the two of you like to order dinner now, Mr. Di Meglio?”

  Angelo nodded. “Yes. Just give us a few moments to decide.”

  He glanced over at her when the waiter walked off. “Do you know what you want?”

  An erotic image flashed through her mind of a naked Angelo mounting her on the large dining table in her suite. She suddenly felt heated embarrassment in her cheeks that she would even imagine such a thing. Truth be told, that’s what she wanted.

  “Peyton?”

  She lifted her gaze to him, glad that he didn’t have the ability to get inside her head. But since she would never share those thoughts with him, what was the harm. The main question she should’ve been asking herself is why was she having those thoughts in the first place? Why was everything about him suddenly becoming sexual? She, of all people, should know better when it came to a man like Angelo.

  She didn’t have a problem with the game they were playing with Lela—the woman deserved it. And hopefully it would teach her a lesson about crossing the line when it came to making a nuisance of herself and going after someone else’s man.

  Peyton knew she had to remember that Angelo wasn’t really her man, not by a long shot. But she definitely wanted to add him to her birthday wish list.

  * * *

  “I hate that we didn’t get a chance to dance together tonight,” Angelo said as he walked Peyton back to her room hours later.

  She laughed and glanced over at him. “We did dance together. Why do you think my feet are killing me?”

  “But we really didn’t get a chance to dance together. Line dancing doesn’t count.” He had wanted to hold her in his arms up close and dance to some slow music. But each time a slow song came on, she would find some excuse to get off the dance floor. It was as if she was afraid of him holding her in his arms.

  “But it was worth it if the look on Lela’s face was anything to go by,” she said. “Maybe she’s finally getting it,” Peyton said, coming to a stop in front of her door.

  “I guess there’s hope.” He wanted to ask her to invite him in but decided not to rush things. The last thing he wanted was for her to think his interest in her was only sexual, although the thought of making love to her was constantly on his mind. Besides, she’d said on the elevator up to their floor that she was tired and couldn’t wait to get to her room and go to bed.

  “So what are your plans for tomorrow?” he asked her.

  “Umm, not sure. I plan to sleep in late again, but once I get up and have breakfast…or lunch…whatever the case might be, I’ll check to see what activities are going on for tomorrow.”

  He nodded. “I understand you’re taking riding lessons.” Then he watched how her lips twisted into a mischievous smile.

  “They might be taking me…right to the bank. I have the best instructor at Luke’s school, other than Luke himself, and I can’t seem to move beyond level one. Believe it or not, I’m still stuck in the group of beginners.”

  The image of her standing, waiting her turn to ride a horse among a group of little kids, made him laugh out loud. Sam had mentioned she had gotten a slow start, but he hadn’t thought things were that bad.

  “Glad I was able to provide you with some comic relief, Angelo.”

  He wiped the laughter off his face but retained a smile. “Sorry. I tell you what. They are giving riding lessons here as well. That way you can continue to practice.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll pass.”

  He lifted his brow. “I never took you for a coward.”

  “I’m not a coward.”

  “Prove it then.” He barely managed to keep from laughing out loud again when her frown turned into a full-blown glare.

  “I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

  He shrugged. “You’re right. You don’t.” Angelo knew his easy assent probably pissed her off even more.

  “You’re right, I don’t.” When he didn’t say anything, one way or the other, she tightened her lips. “You think I’m afraid, don’t you.”

  “I did, which is why I called you a coward. But you’ve set me straight when you said you weren’t.”

  “But you still think I’m afraid?” she countered.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you think it, Angelo.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  She didn’t say anything for a moment and then she leaned in close to him, so close that their noses were almost touching. “But you’re thinking it.”

  Little did she know that the only thing he was thinking about at that moment was that it wouldn’t take much for him to move just a tad closer and lick her lips, nibble them a few times, slide his tongue inside her mouth and capture her tongue and feed on it with the hunger he was feeling. Instead he asked her, “When did you become a mind reader, Peyton?”

  She didn’t answer. It was as if she’d suddenly realized their positions—how close they were standing and the proximity of her mouth to his. She drew in a sharp breath before slowly easing a safe distance back against the door.

  “Fine, DeAngelo Di Meglio, I think I’ll take a riding lesson tomorrow, after all.”

  He chuckled. “This I’ve got to see.”

  She gave him a pointed look. “You do that.”

  “I will. Now go inside and go to bed. I want you well-rested when that horse kicks your butt tomorrow.”

  “Go to hell, Angelo,” she threw over her shoulder as she opened her door.

  “Um, not before I can see how you handle a horse.”

  She went inside and closed the door in his face as he stood there a moment, laughing and thinking he hadn’t laughed this much in a long time. And it felt good.

  Chapter 8

  “Why is it every time I open the door you just stand there and stare before saying anything? A girl can develop a complex from that sort of thing,” Peyton said, opening the door and stepping aside for Angelo to enter.

  If anything, she should be the one staring. No man had any business looking this good before ten in the morning. He was wearing jeans and a pullover shirt. She’d seen him in jeans before but for some reason he looked so, so luscious. And the darkened area around his chin meant he hadn’t bothered to shave this morning, which made him look
even sexier, and just plain naughty.

  “I don’t want you to develop a complex,” he said, dropping down on the sofa. “Take it for the compliment it is. I just happen to like your outfit.”

  She glanced down at herself. Like him, she was wearing jeans and a pullover top. “Why? It’s nothing more than a pair of jeans and a top.”

  He smiled up at her. “Yes, but you look good in them.”

  She shook her head as she crossed the room to pour him a cup of freshly brewed coffee. “Don’t try it, Angelo. Compliments won’t get you anywhere this morning. I won’t forget the mean things you said to me last night about some horse kicking my butt.”

  “Don’t tell me that you’re still holding a grudge. Didn’t you get a good night’s sleep?”

  To be quite honest, she hadn’t. There had to be something about spending the last two days in Angelo’s presence. Now she was thinking about him at night—while she slept. And that wasn’t good. “I could have gotten a better night’s sleep,” she said truthfully.

  He tilted his head, studying her for a moment, and she saw concern in his eyes. “Something bothering you?”

  If only you knew. Instead of saying anything, she waved him off. “The only thing bothering me is you and your lack of confidence in my horseback riding.”

  He laughed. “Hey, I wasn’t the one who admitted to still being in the beginners’ class.”

  She walked over to the sofa to hand him a cup of coffee. “Um, do you know how easy it would be to suddenly get clumsy? Just think of where this hot coffee would land if I were to accidentally drop it in your lap.”

  The widening of his eyes and the way his mouth dropped open was priceless. She saw his throat move when he inhaled a deep, fearful breath. “You wouldn’t.”

  She stood there with the coffee in her hand while raising an arched brow. “I wouldn’t?”

  “Hell, I hope not.”

  She smiled. “That would be a surefire way to keep Lela away from you, if I were to damage your tools.”

  He tried shifting back a little and when she raised her brow a bit higher she figured he’d reach the conclusion that it would be in his best interest to stay put. “If you do that, I’ll sue you for everything you’ve got,” he warned.

  She laughed out loud. “You won’t be getting much. At least not compared to what you already have.”

  “Hey, stop laughing, Peyton. Your hand’s shaking.”

  She looked at her hand and saw it was. “Oops.”

  Deciding she had scared him enough, she kept a steady hand on the coffee cup while she slowly stepped back. “Okay, Angelo, I won’t scald you this time, but don’t ever make fun of me again.”

  She saw he’d made sure he was out of harm’s way before standing and saying in a warning growl, “I’m going to get you for that.”

  If only he would, she thought smiling.

  * * *

  “You didn’t do so bad,” Angelo said a few hours later after Peyton had finished her riding lesson and was walking toward him. “In fact, you did better than I thought you would.”

  He couldn’t stop his gaze from roaming appreciatively over her body. She looked damn good in her jeans, top and boots. And as he’d watched her ride the horse, he couldn’t help imagining her riding him that way—holding on tight, moving her hips and thighs up and down in time with his motion and flanking her thighs tight around him to keep him in place.

  She shrugged her shoulders as they began walking to the stable where the horses were kept. “I don’t know whether to thank you or not.”

  He chuckled. “Go ahead and thank me, even if it kills you.”

  She waved him away. “Not in the mood. I still feel I have a lot to learn.”

  “And you do. But at least you’re trying.”

  “Yeah, but Mac and Sam are so good at it.”

  “From years of practice, trust me. Mac was all but born in a saddle. And as for Sam and I, our parents had us taking riding lessons before our third birthday. During the summers we spent a lot of time in the Hamptons, being spectators at the polo matches at the Seven Oaks Farm. We took riding lessons there as well.”

  “Must have been nice.”

  Although she uttered her comment in a low voice, he’d still heard the sarcasm. “Yes, it was nice,” he said, not feeling he had to apologize for his family’s wealth or feel guilty about it. Sam didn’t have to warn him that in his pursuit of Peyton, money would be the bone of contention. Every once in a while she would rage about the inequities between the haves and the have-nots. But anyone who knew the Di Meglios was well aware of their struggles in the early years. He glanced down at her as they continued walking. “Tell me about your childhood.” He’d heard about how tough she’d had it growing up from Sam, but wanted to hear about it from Peyton.

  She glanced up at him. “Why?”

  “Curious.”

  She didn’t say anything for a while, as if pondering his request. “I never knew my father, although I heard rumors about him during my childhood.”

  He stopped walking and cocked his head to the side and studied her. Now that was something he hadn’t known. “Really?”

  She shrugged and continued to walk on. “Yes, really.”

  He picked up his pace again and eased in stride beside her. “Was he a married man?” he asked.

  “Not at the time, at least that’s what I was told. He was some big-shot politician, and my birth was an embarrassment to him. So was his affair with my mother. When she got pregnant, he gave her money for an abortion. She took the money, left town and returned a year later, just long enough to drop me off at my grandmother’s house and keep going. I haven’t seen her since.”

  “Never?”

  She shook her head. “No. We heard she died years ago. There was never a body, so I can’t say whether it’s true or not. I can only assume.”

  He heard the impassive tone of her voice, and in a way he understood her lack of empathy. How could a woman give birth to a child and then drop her off and never see her again? He could just imagine how Peyton felt knowing she’d been abandoned.

  “And your grandmother raised you?” he asked. Although he’d posed it as a question, he already knew the answer. Sam had told him just how close Peyton was to her grandmother, who’d died the year before she started law school. According to Sam, it had always been Peyton’s grandmother’s dream for Peyton to attend law school, and she had. After law school she had returned to Chicago to work as an attorney for a South Side neighborhood economic development agency.

  She paused at the gate that led to the resort’s beautiful flower gardens. This was one of the things that had captured his attention when he’d been given a tour of the grounds at the time he’d contemplated becoming a partner. Another had been the layout of the resort and its architecture. Spacious and natural, the resort was spread out over a hundred acres and sat on a hill above the Atlantic Ocean. He figured it would be a great place to get away and imagined singles enjoying the scenery and having fun.

  “This is just my third day, but I love it here.”

  He glanced down at her as he followed her gaze around the garden. “What do you like about it?”

  “The peace and quiet—at least it’s peaceful in this part of the resort. I especially like secluded places where there aren’t a lot of people around. And I like that the resort restricts the number of people who check in and are so concerned with making sure the guests have a good time. There are rules and regulations in place to ensure guests behave appropriately. I can see the potential for some women to get territorial when they have no right to be.”

  She glanced up at him. “Like Lela. I’m surprised she hasn’t hunted you down by now.”

  In truth, she had. But there was no reason to mention it to Peyton. Lela had knocked on his door before
eight this morning and invited him to breakfast. Of course, he declined. She’d tried her best to get inside his room. But he wasn’t having it, and told her if she kept making a nuisance of herself he would report her to security.

  Angelo was glad when his conversation with Peyton was interrupted by the group of women who’d stopped by their table last night. Official introductions were made. Although they looked nothing alike, the three were triplets from Charleston. They had signed up for riding lessons as well.

  “They’re nice,” Peyton said moments later when the women walked off toward the stable stalls where the horses were. “Although the one named Tessa couldn’t stop checking you out.”

  He smiled at her as he opened the door for them to enter the building. “Was she? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “You wouldn’t. All men are alike.”

  He chuckled. “Are we? In what way?”

  “You’re acutely aware of the effect you have on women and then pretend that you’re clueless.”

  He led her over to the elevator and was glad they were the only couple in the car. Once the elevator door closed, he asked, “Are you in a man-hating mood today?”

  “Is that what you think?” she asked, trying to temper her anger.

  “I think that’s how you sound. And if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a little put out that you saw another woman checking me out.”

  She gave him a pointed look. “See what I mean? Why do men think so highly of themselves?”

  “You think that’s what I’m doing?”

  He could tell that he was beginning to annoy the hell out of her, but he didn’t care. He was peeved that she was grouping him with other men, those she deemed less than desirable.

  When she didn’t respond, it bothered him. Why not move on to another subject? Why not talk about the weather, politics, religion—anything that wouldn’t fire her up? But he couldn’t let it go. He couldn’t ignore the fact that the woman he was hot behind the zipper for had insinuated that he invited female attention.