She raised her face. Her eyes looked solemn and wise.
He waved at her. Her face dove into the scarf, but in seconds, she peeped up again. This time he ventured a smile. The cycle repeated, but this time when she emerged from the scarf, her eyes were sparkling. The child was smiling at him. Dimpling. Flirting. Her head tilted.
The strangeness of it made him want to laugh. The minister droned on. The sound slid over his ears without penetrating.
Now, he decided. He grabbed his chair, strode over to Steele. He sat down beside her and grinned widely, right into her face. “Ciao.”
The child dove into the scarf again with a squeak. Steele gasped.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she hissed in Italian.
He kept the smile nailed firmly on. “Keeping you company,” he murmured back in the same language. “Resign yourself. I am your date. You invited me.”
“Oh, no. No way are you my date, you—”
“Shhh!” A woman shushed them, frowning. Several others were looking over curiously.
Val leaned closer. “You could scream and yell and throw me out if you want to ruin your friend’s wedding,” he said softly. “And I’m sure your daughter would help to make the event memorable, too. You could even try to kill me with one of your hair ornaments. That would make a big impression, no? Or you could smile and accept reality. Those are your options. After what you did to me in the hotel room, I will not hesitate to embarrass you.”
“Vaffanculo,” she hissed. “Stronzo.”
“I’m a good dancer,” he offered.
“Maiale,” she hissed. “You are not welcome here. Va te ne, before I really do kill you.”
Rachel began to whimper. “Mamma?”
Tam shot him one last poisonous look and murmured something soothing to the child. Rachel was emboldened, and soon began to flirt again while her mother stared up at the wedding, mouth clamped. Furious, but neutralized—for now.
Ah, well. He winked at the child. He’d charmed the little one, at least. And the evening was young.
He would take it as progress.
Manipulative swine. He’d assessed the situation perfectly. If she got agitated, Rachel would freak. If they made a scene, Becca would never forgive her. Becca had doubts about Tam, even though Tam’s efforts on behalf of the children kidnapped by the organ pirates had forced her to grudgingly admit that maybe Tam might have some small redeeming qualities—the operative word being “small.” Becca was still pissed at the way Tam had kicked her man around during the organ pirate debacle. It wouldn’t do to underestimate Becca. After how she’d aquitted herself in that whole Zhoglo nightmare, she’d proved she was not to be fucked with, and Tam respected that.
But it was so silly of her to take it personally. That big galoot Nick had deserved every kick in the teeth that Tam had given him, and he was tough enough to take it. Nick himself had no hard feelings.
It didn’t matter. Becca was still convinced that Tam was a rude, raving, dangerous hellion. Which, of course, she was. No arguments there. But Nick insisted that they grit their teeth and feign friendliness.
So fuck it. Whatever.
The upshot of it all was if Tam wrecked Becca’s wedding, no matter how justified she might feel, being jerked around by this gigolo pimp asshole with his big, terrifying agenda, that fragile truce would be dissolved, and the bride would proceed to take Tam apart. Physically. Unpleasant for everyone. Not good for Rachel. To be avoided if at all possible.
Tam cuddled Rachel, glancing down at the little girl’s face to see how she was handling…holy crap! The kid was smiling at him! Giggling at that smirking pig dog! And he was smiling back, using that knock-you-dead sidelong grin, white teeth flashing, eyes crinkled. God, what a lethal smile. She wanted to backhand it right off his face.
Bastard. How dare he use Rachel to back her into a corner.
She didn’t hear a word of the ceremony. Sveti looked great in her bridesmaid dress, alongside Becca’s sister Carrie, but Tam couldn’t help notice the sad looks she kept casting at Josh, Becca’s brother. Josh was twenty-two years old to Sveti’s fourteen. Guaranteed heartbreak. Sveti was already very pretty if a bit too serious, and prone to moping. But Nick and Tam both would beat up Joshie in a heartbeat if he even looked at Sveti cross-eyed, at least for the next four or five years or so. She was far too young, and she’d been through too much horrendous shit already, but still, there it was.
Josh had other fish to fry anyhow. He was dangling at least ten different girlfriends on a string.
She was going to have a talk with that girl. Poor little thing. She wished Sveti could have exactly what she wanted just once in a blue moon. She deserved it, after what she’d gone through with the organ pirates, as well as what she’d done for Rachel. Rachel had only lived through that ordeal because of Sveti’s love and care.
Tam would gladly chain up that panting dog of a Joshie in a monastery and keep him pure for Sveti by brute force until she grew up.
But life didn’t work that way. People could not be controlled, feelings could not be controlled. She hadn’t always believed that, but the last few months of life with Rachel had driven the point home.
People so seldom got what they deserved, for good or for evil, she reflected, casting a sour look at Janos. Rachel was participating enthusiastically in his efforts to undermine her. And everyone had begun to notice that she had company. Tall, dark, handsome company.
Davy recognized Janos and stared at them fixedly as he jiggled little Jeannie in his arms. He looked puzzled and alarmed.
His eyes asked her is this a problem?
She made an executive decision in that moment to handle it herself and rolled her eyes to indicate, no problem, just a pain in the ass. Hoping it was true. She didn’t want to spoil the party for Davy, either, or any of the rest of them. And oh, joy. Now Margot was gawking, too, her eyes like saucers. A little poking and gesticulating, and within seconds, everyone sitting in her orbit was rubbernecking. A wave of stares, grins, whispers followed from Seth, Raine, Liv, Sean.
Connor and Erin, too. Erin smirked knowingly over her son’s round blond head. Idiot. Thinking that wild, wonderful sex was finally being had by that snotty bitch in her mountain lair. No doubt reflecting smugly that getting properly nailed would magically render Tam a docile, satisfied pussycat who would be sweet and nice and obliging to everyone henceforth. Don’t hold your breath, babydoll, she told Erin silently.
Then again, who could blame them for thinking it, after what Davy and Nick witnessed at Shibumi? Everone in the room probably knew the details, the way that crowd gossiped among themselves.
It took a few minutes to identify the prickling heat in her face, it was so unfamiliar. Mother of God. She was blushing. She was shocked at herself. If she needed any further proof of her impending nervous breakdown, this was it. Maybe she was having a hot flash. Premature menopause would be easier to embrace than blushing.
Still. At thirty-one, menopause seemed a bit too much to hope. Flu maybe? A sudden fever? Except that she never got sick.
And since when did she give a shit what anyone thought of her?
She was so absorbed in her own thoughts, the explosion of hoots, howls, and applause made her jump. Nick grabbed his new wife and bent her over in a juicy, triumphant kiss. Tam nuzzled Rachel’s warm curls as the organ began to blare, bracing herself for the obligatory physical contact, the mandatory boring chitchat. Torture, every time.
Why did she go to these events, anyway? For Rachel’s sake, she supposed, but not entirely. She hated them, yes, but she was honest enough to acknowledge that a piece of her, for some reason, wished she was a person who did not hate