The Italian Affair by Loren Teague Page B

blasted out refreshing his hot skin. What made him feel even better was Brilleaux, belting out a rhythm and blues number. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to a song called ‘PhD in Stupidity’.
    ‘Good band,’ she remarked.So she liked the same type of music as he did, he thought. One point in her favour. ‘Yeah, Brilleaux are one of the best blues bands in New Zealand,’ he replied. ‘Saw them in concert at the music festival last year. Absolute dynamite.’
    ‘You like the blues?’ she asked.
    He nodded. ‘Sure I do. What red-blooded male doesn’t?’
    He tried to relax, pushing back his shoulders into the leather seat. Then stole a glance at her. Gina’s skirt had ridden up her thighs, exposing soft silky skin. How the hell was he going to remain indifferent? Gina Rosselini was hot stuff. And, man … those legs.
    He tried to concentrate on the words of the song, but that made it worse.
    She’s hot … she ain’t got a lot up top. She’s cool … she’s nice….
    Get a grip, Caruso, he told himself. Keep your mind on the job, he thought, glancing in his rear-view mirror. He slowed down and indicated right.
    ‘Please, can we stop for something to eat first? I missed breakfast,’ said Gina.
    ‘Serves you right for trying to do a runner on me,’ he said lightly.
    ‘Have a heart,’ she pleaded.
    Rick relented. He thought about where they could get some food without having to head back into town where she’d be more vulnerable. ‘OK. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll call in to my parents’ place for lunch.’
    She glanced at him. ‘Are you sure they won’t mind?’
    ‘It will be fine,’ he replied firmly. ‘They’re used to me coming and going at all times. That’s the nature of my job.’
    ‘You live at home?’
    ‘Not exactly. I’ve a studio flat and office on their property, but I often eat at home. It’s easier. Especially since I work long hours.’ He paused slightly. ‘When I’m not working I head to my beach house, out of town. It has great surfing.’
    Gina picked up the newspaper lying at her feet. She gasped, ‘Look at that. Haven’t they anything better to write about?’ Thestory of her sister being shot was splashed all over the front page in hideous headlines. ‘For goodness sake, that must have been that photographer who pushed his way through and stood over me.’ Queasiness rose in her stomach as she took in the details. Maria was lying on the ground with herself leaning over her, a shocked look on her face.
    He reached over and grabbed the newspaper. ‘It’s better not to read stuff like that.’
    ‘Yes, I know …’ her voice tailed off. ‘But I just wanted to see what they had written.’
    He tried to change the subject. ‘So what other things do you do in your spare time, Gina Rosselini? Since I’m going to be following you around for a while, it would help me to know what I’m in for. Three hours’ shopping is probably stretching me a little.’
    ‘That’s just tough,’ she answered in the same tone. ‘I’m going to make you work very hard for your money.’
    He gave her a crooked smile. ‘Hard work never killed me. Seriously though, I need an idea of your movements during the week.’
    She considered his question for a moment. ‘I don’t have any regular timetable,’ she admitted. ‘But I try to keep busy. Occasionally I help my grandfather with the business. Mostly to do with arranging functions for any visiting clients from overseas. That type of thing. But for the last three months, I’ve mainly been organizing the wedding.’
    ‘I heard you were planning on taking a trip overseas.’
    She shrugged. ‘That’s true. I was going to Italy to visit relatives, but when Maria and Anthony announced their engagement, Maria wanted me to stay to help, so I postponed my trip.’
    ‘And now?’
    ‘Oh, I still want to leave here. Travel the world. But now I need to wait until Maria is better – and they’ve found the person responsible