Free Italian Knights by Sharon DeVita

of this strange man that had his mother and aunt so worried. Dancing David’s image immediately came to mind. But Sal dismissed it. Why on earth would David want to burglarize the deli? He was obviously affluent. What could he possibly hope to gain? Sal was puzzled. “Ma, do you think you’d recognize this man again, if you saw him?”
    She slowly nodded her head. “You know your mama, she never forgets a face.”
    “I still want Annie to have my bat,” Florina insisted, going to retrieve the weapon. Sal gently took it away from her.
    “No, Auntie Florina, no weapons. I told you. The police will handle it. I personally will find out what’s going on.”
    “You be careful, Salvatore,” his mother cautioned, looking worried. Sal smiled, trying to appease her fears.
    “Ma, I’m always careful.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek.
    “And you’ll look after Annie?” his aunt asked skeptically. Sal smiled. Looking after Annie had become uppermost in his mind. And until he found out more about Dancing David and the mysterious stranger who had his mother and aunt so worried, he planned to stick close to Annie. Very close. He didn’t like the sudden circumstances unfolding around her. But how on earth was he going to convince Annie she needed him around, when all she was trying to do was prove she didn’t need him? He’d have to think of something—quick.
    “I promise I’ll look after Annie.”
    “And this man, this stranger, you’ll see what he’s up to?”
    “I promise,” Sal said solemnly.
    “Good,” his aunt and mother caroled in unison. “Then let’s get to work.”
     
     
    “Tired?” Sal asked, sinking to the now clean floor and pulling Annie close. It had taken nearly four hours to clean up the deli in order for her to open in the morning. There were still some things left to be done: new cold cuts had to be ordered, the front door and the windows had to be replaced, new glass had to be made for the deli case, but at least the interior was presentable enough for the public. Florina and Rosina had finally gone home, and exhausted, Annie wearily sank down on the floor and leaned against Sal.
    She knew she should probably keep her distance, considering her growing feelings for him, but she was too tired to do anything but gratefully accept his comfort.
    “I’m dead. What a night.” Closing her eyes, she burrowed closer to him. Wrapped in the cocoon of Sal’s warmth, she forgot her fears. She felt safe and protected, cared for in a way she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. She was letting her emotions run away with her, and she knew it. Just because Sal had kissed her once—twice, her mind corrected—was no reason to let her imagination run away with her. She was still the same old Annie to him. The poor widow of his best friend, whom he had to look after.
    “Annie?” Sal laid his chin on the top of her head. “I want to talk to you about something.”
    She stiffened, not liking the sudden seriousness of his tone. They’d successfully avoided talking about what had happened between them all evening. Annie wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about it now, not until she’d had a chance to sort out her feelings.
    “What?” she asked hesitantly.
    “I don’t want you to go out with David anymore,” he said bluntly. He wasn’t ready to tell Annie his suspicions about the man, at least not before he’d done some checking. Annie was frightened enough as it was already, and there was no sense adding to her fears unnecessarily. Until he’d thoroughly checked this guy out, he wasn’t about to let him anywhere near Annie.
    “I know,” Annie said softly, too tired to argue.
    “Then you won’t see him anymore,” Sal said in relief, tightening his arms around her.
    She turned her head to look at him, and was caught up short by his nearness. He had the most beautiful eyes, she thought absently. And his mouth—it was soft, warm and inviting, beckoning her closer. She longed to lean forward,