June’s menu BARONESSA GELATERIA in Boston’s North End
In addition to our regular flavors of Italian gelato, this month we are featuring:
• Puffy clouds of fresh-whipped meringue
Nothing excited Alex Barone more than flying the skies for his country in his supercharged navy jet with the Blue Angels. Close second? A beautiful woman waiting for him on land. After all, he didn’t get the nickname “Babe Magnet Barone” for nothing….
• Red, white and blue torte
A Barone heir and a waitress? Daisy knew it was an insane combination. Sooner or later the red-blooded Boston blue blood Alex Barone would come to his senses. Until then, she’d simply savor their white-hot attraction….
• An array of decadent desserts
After being so long denied, Alex and Daisy, friends by day, became lovers in the night. Their hands, their mouths, took them on a sensual journey of discovery. Then Alex took command—and brought Daisy to new heights of passion….
Buon appetito!
Beauty & The Blue Angel
Maureen Child
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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MAUREEN CHILD
is a California native who loves to travel. Every chance they get, she and her husband are taking off on another research trip. The author of more than sixty books, Maureen loves a happy ending and still swears that she has the best job in the world. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two children and a golden retriever with delusions of grandeur.
Visit her Web site at www.maureenchild.com.
Meet the Barones of Boston—an elite clan caught in a web of danger, deceit…and desire!
Alex Barone—The one time he let his heart take the pilot seat, it got broken. His fiancée jilted him on Valentine’s Day—shade of the Barone curse. Alex prefers the fast life in the Blue Angels, flying all around the world. He’s not looking for a white picket fence to hold him in….
Daisy Cusak—The minute she told her ex-boyfriend she was pregnant, he left her in a cloud of dust. Daisy’s prepared to be both mother and father to her baby now; she’ll do whatever it takes. She’s not looking for a love-’em-and-leave-’em flyboy….
Rita Barone—Alex’s sister, a nurse, delivers Daisy’s healthy, perfect little girl. Now she’s interested in delivering another Barone to the altar.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
One
Daisy Cusak ignored the ribbon of pain snaking through her. “Just a twinge,” she whispered, then ran the palm of her hand across her swollen belly. “Come on, sweetie, don’t do this to Mommy, okay?”
The pains had been intermittent all day, but she’d brushed them off. All of the books said there was nothing to worry about until the contractions were steady and just a few minutes apart. Well, heck. One every hour and a half or so wasn’t anything to worry about, right?
Besides, on a busy Friday night, she could make a lot of tips serving dinner at Antonio’s Italian restaurant. And right now, that money would mean a lot.
All around her, noises of the busy kitchen echoed—pans clashing, chefs cursing, expensive china plates clinking. It was music of a sort. And the waiters and waitresses were the dancers.
She’d been doing this for four years and she was darn good at it. Though people wouldn’t exactly consider being a waitress a career, Daisy didn’t have a problem with it. She loved her job. She met new people every night, had a few regulars who would wait an extra half hour just to get seated in her station, and her bosses, the Contis, were just so darn nice to work for.
Rather than fire her for being pregnant, members of the Conti family were continually urging her to sit down, get off her feet. Someone was always near to help her with the heavier trays, and she’d already been assured that her job would be waiting for her after she took some time off with the baby.
“You’ll see,” she said, smiling down at her unborn child. “It’s going to be great. We’re going to be great.”
“Everything all right, Daisy?”
She turned abruptly and grinned at Joan, one of the other waitresses. “Sure. I’m good.”
The other woman looked as though she didn’t believe her, and Daisy silently wished she was just a little bit better at lying.
“Why don’t you take a break?” Joan said. “I’ll cover your tables for you.”
“It’s okay,” Daisy answered firmly, willing not only Joan, but herself, to believe it. “I’m fine. Honest.”
Her friend gave her a worried frown, then stacked two plates of veal parmigiana on her serving tray. “Okay, but I’ve got my eye on you.”
Along with everyone else at Antonio’s, Daisy thought. She picked up a pot of coffee, pushed through the Out door and walked into the main dining room. Casual elegance flavored the room. Snowy-white linens draped the tables, candles flickered wildly within the crystal hurricane globes and soft strains of weeping violin music drifted from the overhead speakers.
Above the music came the comfortable murmur of voices, punctuated every once in a while by someone’s laughter. Wineglasses clinked, forks and knives clattered against china, and men and women dressed in starched white shirts and creased black trousers moved through the crowd with choreographed precision.
Daisy smiled at her customers as she offered more coffee and took orders. She bent to grin at a toddler who was strapped into his high chair and laughing over the spaghetti he’d rubbed into his hair. Most of the wait staff hated having kids in their sections. It usually meant lost time when the customers left, because the mess had to be cleaned before anyone else could be seated. And lost time meant lost money.
But Daisy had always loved kids. Even the messy, cranky ones. Which, Joan had told her too many times to count, made Daisy nuts.
A group of men in their thirties followed the hostess and began to thread their way through the maze of tables to the huge, dark maroon leather booth at the back of Daisy’s station. As they passed, she caught a look of apology from the hostess seating them. Four men would be big eaters and probably end up running Daisy’s legs off. On the bright side, though, they might turn out to be good tippers, too. And she was always trying to beef up the nest egg building ever so slowly in the bank.
Another pain gripped her, this time sharply, briefly, in the middle of her back, and Daisy stiffened in reaction. Oh no, honey. Not now.
As if her baby heard that silent plea, the pain drifted away into nothing more than a slow, nagging ache. That Daisy could handle.
All she had to do was get through the next couple of hours and she’d be home free.
All he had to do was get through the next couple of hours and he’d be home free. That was what Alex Barone kept telling himself.
He was the last to be seated, and caught himself damn near perched on the edge of the leather banquette, as if ready to hit the floor running. When that thought flashed through his mind, he gritted his teeth and eased back on the bench seat. Damned if he’d feel guilty for coming into this restaurant.
Damned if he’d worry about the ramifications.
Although, if he’d known his friends were going to choose Antonio’s, he might have bowed out. There was no point in going out of his way to antagonize an old family enemy.
He glanced around at the place and smiled to himself. As a Barone, he’d been raised with stories that made the Conti family sound like demons. But if this was their hell, they’d made a nice place of it. Dim lighting, soft music…the scents coming out of the kitchen nearly made him groan in appreciation.
Nearly every table was full, and the wait staff looked busy as ground troops settling in for a big campaign. That thought brought a smile. He’d been in the military too long.
While his friends laughed and talked, Alex let his gaze drift around the room again, keeping a watchful eye out for any loose Contis. But since none of them knew Alex personally, what were the chances he’d be recognized as a Barone? Slim to none.
So he was just going to relax, have dinner, then leave with no one the wiser.
In the next instant, all thoughts of leaving raced from his brain.
“Hello, my name is Daisy and I’ll be your server tonight.”
A gorgeous woman seemed to appear out of nowhere, standing right beside Alex as she gave the whole table a smile wide and bright enough to light up all the shadowy corners in the room.
A purely male instinct had Alex straightening up in his seat for a closer, more thorough look. Her long, curly chestnut hair was caught at the nape of her neck with a slightly tarnished silver barrette. Her eyes weren’t quite blue or green, but a tantalizing combination of both. Her pale skin looked satin smooth and soft. Her voice held just a hint of humor. Alex’s interest was piqued…until her enormous belly nearly bumped him as she shifted position on what had to be tired feet.
Pregnant.
Taken.
Well, damn. Disappointment shot through him. His gaze dropped automatically to her ring finger. Nothing. Not even a white mark to indicate there might have been one there at some point.
He frowned to himself. Not married? What kind of moron would walk away from a woman like this? Especially if she was carrying his child?
“Hello, Daisy,” one of the guys—Mike Hannigan—said with a slow whistle of approval.
Alex shot him a disgusted look, but apparently it didn’t bother the woman at all.
“Can I start you out with some drinks? Appetizers?” she asked as she handed around several long menus.
“Beers all around,” Nick Santee ordered, and she nodded as she made a note on her order pad.
“Your phone number?” Tim Hawkins ventured.
She grinned, and the full, megawatt force of that smile hit Alex like a fist to the gut. Damn, this was one potent female, even in her condition.
“Sure,” she said, rubbing one hand along her belly. “It’s one eight hundred way too pregnant.”
Then she turned and walked off to get their drinks. While the guys laughed and kidded Tim about his lousy pickup skills, Alex half turned in his seat to follow her progress through the restaurant. She had a bounce in her step that he liked. The smile on her face had wavered only once, when she’d grimaced and dropped a hand to her belly, as if comforting the child within.
And who, he wondered, comforted her?
As the evening wore on, his interest in her only sharpened. When she brought the pitcher of beer and four glasses, he slid out of the booth to take the heavy tray from her.
“Oh. I’m okay, really.”
“Never said you weren’t, ma’am.”
She looked up at him, and he decided that her eyes were more blue than green.
“It’s Daisy. Just Daisy.”
He nodded, standing there, holding a trayful of drinks and looking down into fathomless eyes that seemed to draw him deeper with every passing second. “I’m Alex.”
She licked her lips, pulled in a shuddering breath and let it out again. “Well, thanks for the help…Alex.”
“No problem.”
He unloaded the beers, handed her back the empty tray and then stood in the aisle watching her walk away.
“Hey, Barone,” Nick called, and Alex flinched, hoping no one else had heard his last name.
“What?”
One of the guys laughed.
Nick said, “You gonna sit down and have a beer, or do you want to go on back to the kitchen and help her out there, too?”
Embarrassed to be caught fantasizing about a pregnant woman, Alex grinned and took his seat. Reaching for his beer, he took a long drink, hoping the icy brew would help stamp out the fires within.
But still he couldn’t help watching her. She should be tired. Yet her energy never seemed to flag. And she was stronger than her fragile build seemed to indicate. She lifted heavy trays with ease and kept up such a fast pace he was pretty sure if she’d been walking in a straight line, she’d have made it to Cleveland by now.
“Geez, Barone,” Nick muttered, leaning closer. “Get a grip. There’s lots of pretty women in Boston. Do you have to home in on one who’s obviously taken?”
“Who’s homing in?” Alex countered. Silently, though, he reminded himself that she wasn’t taken. At least not by a man who appreciated her enough to marry her. “I’m just—”
“Window shopping?” Tim asked.
“Close your hole,” Mike told him.
Alex glanced around at the men gathered at the table. Men he’d known for years. Like him, they were navy pilots, guys he’d trained with, studied with and flown with. There was a bond between them that even family couldn’t match.
And yet…right now, he wished them all to the Antarctic.
Stupid, but he wanted their waitress to himself.
When she set their check on the edge of the table, Alex picked it up quickly, his fingertips brushing hers. She drew back fast, almost as if she’d felt the same snap of electricity he had. Which was kind of weird. She was pregnant, for Pete’s sake. Very pregnant. It should have put her off-limits.
“So, are you guys shipping out now?” Daisy asked, trying to keep her gaze from drifting toward the man sitting so close to her.
His friends were easier to deal with. They were friendly, charming, casually flirtatious, like most of the navy men she’d waited on at Antonio’s. And she’d treated them as she did all of her customers—with polite friendliness and nothing more.
Since the day Jeff had called her a mantrap and walked out the door, leaving behind not only her but his unborn child, Daisy hadn’t given any man a second look. Until tonight. This one—Alex, with the ebony hair and dark brown eyes and sharp-as-a-razor cheekbones—was different. She’d known it the minute he looked at her. And the feeling had only grown over the last hour and a half.
She’d felt his gaze on her most of the night, and didn’t even want to think about the feelings that dark, steady stare engendered.
Hormones.
That had to be the reason.
Her hormones were out of whack because of the baby.
“No,” Alex said, and she steeled herself to meet that gaze head-on. “We’re on leave, actually.”
“Are you from Boston?” she asked and told herself she was only being friendly, just as she would with any other customer. But even she didn’t believe it.
There was just something about this man…
“I was raised here,” he was saying.
One of the other men spoke up, but his voice was like a buzz in her ears. All she heard, all she could see was this man watching her through the darkest, warmest eyes she’d ever seen.
“You have family here?”
A slow, wicked smile curved one side of his mouth, and her stomach jittered. “Yeah, I come from a big family. I’m the fifth of eight kids.”
She dropped one hand to the mound of her belly. “Eight. That must be nice.”
“Not when I was a kid,” he admitted. “Too many people fighting over the TV and cookies.”
Daisy smiled at the mental image of a houseful of children, laughing, happy. Then, sadly, she let it go. It was something she’d never known, and now her baby, too, would grow up alone.
No. Not alone. Her baby would always have her.
Alex’s friends eased out of the booth and headed for the front of the restaurant. He watched them go, nodded, then reached into his wallet for a few bills. He handed her the money and the check and said, “Keep the change.”
“Thanks. I mean—” He was leaving. Probably just as well, she told herself. And yet she felt oddly reluctant to let him walk away.
“What are you doing in my restaurant?”
Daisy spun around to watch in amazement as Salvatore Conti, her boss, came rushing out of the kitchen, flapping a pristine white dish towel like some crazed matador looking for a bull.
Two
“Damn it.” Alex stiffened and braced for a confrontation. He’d hoped to make it out of Antonio’s without incident. But it looked as if Sal had other plans.
The older man hurried toward him, still shouting, mindless of the other customers or his employees’ fascinated attention. Sal Conti was sixty-two, but he was still pretty spry. About five feet eleven inches tall, he was a little shorter than Alex, and slender. His brown eyes were flashing and his cheeks were filled with furious color.
“What are you doing here?” Sal demanded. “Spying? This is what the Barones have come to now?”
Okay, fine. Alex hadn’t wanted a scene, but he’d be damned if he’d stand here and let his family be insulted.
“Spying?” he retorted, standing his ground. “Are all of you Contis paranoid? Or is it just you?”
“Paranoid?” Sal waved that towel furiously, shaking his other fist in the air. “You can talk of paranoid? After what your family’s done to mine?”
“What we’ve done? You know damn well it was the Contis behind that gelato fiasco.”
“Ridiculous,” Sal snapped.
“And as long as we’re at it,” Alex added, meeting the older man’s narrowed gaze with a glare of his own, “I still think your family was behind the arson.”
Sal huffed in a breath until his narrow chest swelled. “Slander.” He shot a quick look around at his customers and waved that towel again. “You all heard him. That’s slander. The Contis were cleared by the police. That’s a vicious lie the Barones toss around to make us look bad.”
Alex snorted in laughter. “Believe it or not, we don’t sit around thinking about the Contis. Besides, you do a great job of looking bad all on your own.”
“The Contis have done nothing. We don’t need to bring bad fortune onto the Barones.” He waved a hand toward the ceiling and the night sky beyond. “It’s in the stars. You’re all ill-fated.”
Ill-fated. Bad fortune. This whole Italian curse thing had been rattling around between their two families for years, and Alex, for one, was tired of it.
“No such thing as fate,” he said.
“Sal…” Daisy moved toward her boss. Taking his arm, she gave it a tug, as if she was used to dealing with the older man’s flash temper. Which, Alex thought, she probably was.
But Sal shook her off, and Daisy sighed.
“Stay out of this, Daisy,” Alex muttered, and took her arm to pull her back beside him.
Sal noticed the move and his features darkened with fury. “You leave her alone. She’s a nice girl and she doesn’t need a Barone in her life.”
“You’re nuts, you know that?” Alex retorted. Hell, for that matter, so was he. He was standing here having a shouting match with a man more than twice his age. Swiping one hand across his face, he got a grip and swallowed back the rest of the anger churning inside him.
Damn it, this was one of the reasons he’d joined the military. No one in the navy cared who his family was. No one was impressed that he came from wealth. He’d joined the service right out of college, with one thought in mind: to get away from Boston and the never-ending feud between the Barones and the Contis. It had been going on for years and showed no sign of ending. If anything, the troubles between the families had picked up recently. What with the fire and the disaster involving the new flavor gelato, the Barones were on red alert at all times and looking for Contis under every rock.
Alex was tired of the potshots and anger. But he was also a Barone and he owed the family his loyalty, even though he thought the adults on both sides were idiots.
Now what he had to do was find a way out of here, fast. He shot a quick glance around the restaurant. Curious stares pinned him in place, but his friends were nowhere to be seen. They’d already gone outside by the time Sal Conti had lost his mind. Alex glanced at Daisy, saw her confusion and wished he could explain all of this to her. But who’d believe him?
In this day and age, who would expect two completely respectable, intelligent families to be so involved in a vendetta?
“You get out of my place,” Sal told him hotly.
“Hey, I was just going.”
“And you don’t pay for your meal. We don’t need Barone money.”
Disgusted, Alex said, “I’m not taking anything from the Contis.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Daisy muttered, stepping between the two men, only to be pushed gently aside by Sal. You couldn’t work at Antonio’s without learning about Sal Conti’s quick, volcanic temper. But Daisy was also well aware that the man didn’t have a violent bone in his body and that his temper disappeared as swiftly as it erupted.
But in this case she was pretty sure both men were nuts. Standing in the middle of a nice restaurant yelling at each other about ill fortune and curses was just crazy, no matter how you looked at it.
“You go sit down, Daisy,” the older man said absently. “Get off your feet for a while.”
She groaned, winced a bit and whispered, “I think it’s too late for that.”
A heartbeat or two passed before both men turned as one to look at her. At any other moment, she would have thought their twin expressions of sheer terror were funny. However, at the moment she had other things on her mind.
Daisy felt the contraction grab hold of the middle of her back and twist her spine into a pretzel. Every square inch of her suddenly erupted with a deep, throbbing pain that seemed to blossom and grow with every passing second. This was nothing like the annoying little twinges she’d been experiencing.
This was the kind of labor pain they wrote books about.
“I think I need to go home. Call the midwife,” she whispered.
“Oh boy,” Sal muttered, reaching for her left arm just as Alex grabbed her right. “You’re okay, honey,” her boss continued. Then he shouted, “Tony!”
Someone in the kitchen yelled back, “Yeah?”
“Call an ambulance. Call a hospital. Call somebody!”
Daisy managed a chuckle at the panic in Sal’s voice, but when the contraction ended and was quickly chased by another, stronger one, that laughter faded into a low, deep moan of misery.
“I’ll take her to the hospital,” Alex said, and she shifted a glance at him. Navy pilot and a hero.
“No you won’t,” Sal countered, pulling Daisy closer to him. “We don’t need help from a Barone.”
“I’m not helping you,” Alex pointed out. He gave her arm a little tug, pulling her to his side. “I’m helping her.”
“What is this,” Daisy asked, yanking free of both of them, “a tug-of-war?”
“Hey, boss,” Tony yelled from the kitchen. “Ambulance’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”
“Cancel it,” Alex shouted, then looked down at Daisy. “I’ll get you to the hospital. Let me help. Trust me.”
She stared up into those chocolate-brown eyes of his and read determination there, along with an eagerness to help. And right then Daisy wanted all the help she could get. Besides, waiting fifteen minutes for an ambulance seemed like a lifetime.