22. ROSEMARY

If you are the dealer, I'm out of the game

If you are the healer, it means I'm broken and lame

If thine is the glory, then mine must be the shame

You want it darker, we kill the flame

(You Want It Darker, Leonard Cohen)

The custom let out a loud roar and swooshed on the road like a butterfly, despite its size. Maria clung to Joe, slightly leaning forward to keep steady on the bike. As her breasts pressed against the man's back, a tingle of excitement crawled between her thighs.

The bike sped down Queensboro Bridge and the beautiful sight of city lights reflected on the river's dark waters gave her a nostalgic feeling. It kind of reminded her of Sybil's eyes.

They'd just crossed the bridge when a light rain started tapping her fingers. At the muffled sound of water splashing under the tires, her grip on the man tightened. Their helmets didn't clash when she rested her head against the man's back – she was that much smaller than him. Her visor blurred by the droplets, she still recognized they were heading to Astoria.

Fifteen minutes later, Joe was pulling in front of an old four-story building with exposed red bricks. He cut the engine and slipped off his helmet. Maria gave him a puzzled look from behind, but he didn't seem to notice, maybe because of the rain. She got off the bike and gave back her helmet before he quickly ducked it under the bike's seat and turned back to her. Some wet strands of his blond hair had fallen to the front, making his crystal clear eyes stand out even more. Pulling closer, he stretched out his arm, using his leather jacket to shelter her. Standing side to side with him, she felt small and frail. As the warmth of his body leaked to hers, she doubted her decision. Her instinct told her she needed to stay alert and her eyes wandered to the building. There was no trace of a pub there, and surely not a pool hall. He had tricked her. Her gaze shot back to him, her lips pulled together in a tight line.

He smiled innocently. "Would you mind if I clean myself up too?" he asked, a pang of sweetness mellowing his deep voice. "The rain could stop meanwhile," he added, looking up at the dark sky.

Feeling awkward, Maria pushed his arm aside and got out of the improvised shelter. Still, she didn't want to look like a child who's afraid of everything. She frowned at the building again and shrugged.

"A few drops of water aren't going to kill me," she replied flat. "If you need a shower, I can wait."

"Forgive me, but I can't leave you waiting under the rain." He sighed and ran a hand through his wet hair.

She studied his troubled face. He was obviously taken aback by her behavior and didn't know how to handle it. Some of her curls fell flat in front of her eyes, while her clothes had already started to feel uncomfortable, drenched and glued to her skin.

"Fine," she said and walked off to the building's entrance.

Joe caught up with her and stepped ahead to lead the way. After opening the main door, he nodded at the watchman and walked down the hallway. Apparently, the building was too old to fit in an elevator, so they had to take the stairs. The flat was on the last floor, but at least Maria was spared all the embarrassing awkwardness of being stuck in a narrow space with him. Yet, while they climbed up the stairs, she couldn't avoid staring at his back, her eyes trailing down from his wide shoulders to his round butt.

Hell, if he was hot.

As soon as they stepped in the flat, the man hung his jacket on the coat rack beside the door and took off his shoes. Maria noticed that Joe had Sybil's same habit before she imitated him and followed him inside. Her gaze lingered over the black-framed, full-length mirror, noticing a potted Japanese Peace Lily at its feet. She wondered if those were signs of destiny.

She shook her head and took in the rest of the flat. It was small, simple, and cozy, definitely a better fit for her than Sybil's home. The walls sported the same red bricks of the building's front, while the floor was covered in artfully hand-scraped dark wood with multi-width planks. Not only did it have a vintage appeal, but it also felt raw and authentically worn under her feet. She breathed in – tangy, fresh resin – pine. A smile curved her lips. She loved it.

The deep wood scent and warm dark-reddish colors were in sharp contrast with the light shade of Sybil's smooth bamboo floorboards and his lacquer paint white walls, all wrapped into his favorite incense—a sweet, exotic mixture of magnolia and sandalwood.

It was exactly like the Oracle, that scent—a creamy, velvety fragrance with hints of lemon, spice, and vanilla mingled with milky, precious wood—relaxing, alluring, and sophisticated, yet so intense that it could be difficult to handle at times.

As she walked through the room, a musky smell reached her nostrils and pulled her out of her thoughts. A black leather sofa stood in front of a minimalistic TV cabinet – varnished in the same color – that stretched into bookshelves on each end. Across the main room stood the kitchen's entrance, while on the right an open door led to the bedroom.

Joe headed in there while she waited on the threshold. She couldn't step into the most dangerous part of the house. He soon came back, handing her a towel. She didn't take it, her gaze wandering around the neat room over his shoulder and falling on the wine-red bedsheets.

"You are welcome to use my shower, and I could give you a change too," he said amiably.

She rolled her eyes. "This is enough," she replied, snatching the towel from his hands and taking a step back.

Joe shrugged and walked off to the wardrobe. He left the door open though, like an invitation to peek. Without even realizing it, she stared as he uncovered his well-defined muscles. The Riace bronzes would've paled standing beside him. She squinted to have a better look at the seductive red rose that stood in the middle of a finely crafted cross, adorning his solid chest. She loved old school tattoos and she was enchanted by the fine artwork. At that, he lifted his sea-green eyes and met hers. She jumped back.

Flustered, she stumbled away from the door and hid in the safest place. She took a minute to calm her breath before exploring the kitchen. Finding a moka and coffee powder on the countertop, she decided to use them. She stared at the shining-clean aluminum, sweating over the fire until the familiar gurgling announced the drink was ready.

Finally, she sat at the small dark table that faced the granite countertop. She pulled her knees to her chest, holding the steaming cup in her hands. As she inhaled the bittersweet, pungent and fruity aroma of robusta coffee, her mind drifted back to Sybil.

He liked a hundred percent Arabica and lightly roasted. A small amount of powder blended in the moka with fennel, cinnamon, and licorice. While most Italians would cringe at the sole idea of such a light and spiced coffee, Maria enjoyed the way the chocolate nutty flavor of Arabica mingled with the spices. It might've been silly, but she wanted to be the one preparing it for him.

She pictured his lean, elegant figure as he sat on the balcony, sipping his hot drink and contemplating the stars. She sighed.

"I see you took me at my word," Joe's cheerful voice commented.

She flinched but immediately regained her composure. She placed the cup on the table and set her legs down to sit properly as he stepped in the small kitchen.

"I shouldn't have?" she asked, looking back from over her shoulder.

She meant to cast him a side-glance but, as he drew closer, her eyes betrayed her, following him all the way across the kitchen.

Maybe her choice of hiding in that narrow kitchen wasn't the safest after all.

He had changed into full black—skintight jeans and shirt—his muscles perfectly revealed in every centimeter of his body. He moved the chair aside but didn't take a seat. His wet hair were roughly pulled back, a few daring drops of water rolling down his neck, as those sea-clear eyes studied her, sparking in amusement. She blinked a couple of times trying to get back to her senses.

He smirked. "You should always take me at my word, but you could've spared some for me," he said, pointing at her cup.

The man knew how to hit where it hurt—offering coffee was mandatory courtesy in any Italian household.

"I thought we were leaving..." she justified it, feeling guilty at her lack of consideration. "You can still take some of this." She offered clumsily, pushing her cup toward his side.

He pushed it back, leaning in on the table and staring straight into her eyes. "I'll drink from your cup, only after you kiss me."

Ripping her eyes away from his tempting lips, she grabbed the cup back and took a rushed sip. Burning her tongue, she winced. She huffed and put the cup down again.

"So, where are we off to, cop?" she asked, trying to keep her voice smooth.

She had to play it cool if she wanted to hide the fact that—thanks to Vito's overprotectiveness—she didn't have much experience. Joe stood back and glanced out of the water-blurred glass of the kitchen's window. The pouring didn't seem to have diminished, quite the contrary.

"To be honest, I've changed my mind." He leaned his shoulder on the wall, his head tilted to the side as he gave her a sidelong glance. "I've been out all day, so what about ordering dinner instead? Egyptian – maybe? Or pizza? Whatever you like is fine with me."

Her brows furrowed upon realizing she had been set up. Anyway, if her will was strong enough, she could still make it out of there. Still, it was better than being at home, sulking or crying. She shrugged.

"Whatever," she said, looking at the black bottom of her cup.

Joe moved away and picked up the cordless and a flyer, lying on top of a small cabinet at the opposite corner of the room. He sat back and placed the paper in front of her. It was the take-out menu of an Egyptian restaurant.

"Now, you chose what to eat and then you tell me who is the bastard that screwed up your day," he said, oozing confidence.

Maria's gaze ran reluctantly down the list. She didn't like to be ordered around, but her stomach growled at the image of a juicy kebab filled with mutton, spicy sauce, and yogurt, and sided by thin crispy fries.

Her index fingers moved by itself and tapped the picture a couple of times. "I want this," slipped out of her mouth.

She bit her lip and looked up at Joe.

He nodded. "Looks like I got you right," he said as a satisfied smile curved his mouth.

"It feels like a lifetime since I've eaten anything like this, I usually stay away from junk food," she admitted, smiling back. Ripping her eyes away from his, she retreated her hand. She stretched her fingers, looking at her perfectly polished purple nails. "Why do you think there should be a bastard?" she asked casually.

"Because it feels like you are here to piss someone off, rather than pleasing yourself." His sexy, low voice lingered on the last words.

Her chest tightened, but her eyes darted back to his, narrowed. "I thought you wanted to get me to bed, not analyze me," she replied dryly.

Joe arched his brow, an amused light dancing in his eyes as he silently stared back. After a moment of stalling, he simply grabbed back the cordless and dialed the restaurant's number. He quickly ordered the same menu for two and cut off. As he laid the phone on the table, he leaned in and brought his clear eyes back to hers, a crooked smile curving his lips.

"You know—usually—women like to have a bit of conversation before. Would you rather I just pulled my dick out, now? Because if so, you are easily pleased," he replied with a challenging look.

Maria's eyes widened. Her mouth dropped open and her hand fled to cover it. She thought him to be a polite guy and she didn't expect at all such a bold, rude answer. She had misjudged him and threw herself in a dangerous situation. She jumped up.

"I'm leaving," she blurted out.

He stood and grabbed her shoulder, his eyes slightly narrowed. "Sit back down," he ordered before his voice melted into a low sensual tone. "Let's start over," he demanded.

He leaned toward her, his fingers sliding sensually over her arm until they reached her hand. Shivers running down her skin, she swallowed back. She expected him to try and kiss her, but he just held her hand, pulled it up and gave it a slight shake.

"I'm Joe," he said slowly, staring straight into her eyes as his thumb stroked her palm. "I'm single, I find you very attractive and I actually want to have a bit of conversation."

From where his fingers met her skin a cascade of small shivers ran through all of Maria's body. Something stirred in her guts and she felt a heat rising from places she wouldn't want him to discover.

It had never happened before; she had never felt such a strong attraction. A mixture of excitement and fear in some way similar to what she had experienced with Set, but much more intense. There was something inexplicably seductive about his touch and the way his eyes darkened as he stared at her. She inhaled sharply, trying to clear her muddled mind, and slowly sat back. He followed and her hand ended up laying on the table, still in his.

"Good girl," he said, a smile curving his full lips.

For a moment silence fell. She glanced at their hands, realizing how different Sybil's touch was, how comforting. Her heart beating frantically in her chest, she tried to keep her breath from speeding up too. He patiently waited for her reply.

"I'm Maria, and you are right," she said eventually, looking up at him. She took a deep breath and pictured Sybil's face in her mind. It felt miles away from where she was. "I'm sick in love with another man."

He chuckled, his fingers tapping the back of her hand before he let go. "I say – now it's time for a beer."

He stood, cleaned up her empty cup and in three steps reached the fridge. He took out a couple of chilled Budweisers, his eyes searching Maria's and waiting for her nod before he opened them both. Then, he sat back, offering one to her.

"So, does your bastard have a name?" he asked, back to his cheerful self.

"He is not a bastard," she countered, heat flooding her cheeks.

"Sweetheart, maybe you're still too young to acknowledge it, but—trust me—all men are bastards," he countered self-confidently as his bottle clinked against hers in a light toast.

"Sybil is not...!" The words escaped from her lips, but she bit them back as if she had just sworn God's name.

A corner of Joe's mouth twitched upwards in a crooked smile and, just for a moment, his eyes narrowed. A chill ran up Maria's spine. She couldn't say if it was triggered by desire or fear.

"Bingo!" He tapped the bottom of his bottle to the table. "That's a woman's name, so it's a bitch, not a bastard." He laughed it off.

As if he'd cast some magic spell, suddenly the atmosphere relaxed and a smile surfaced on Maria's lips too.

"I can assure you that he's a man. Not that it makes much difference to me though." She shrugged.

The detective massaged his forehead before holding the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. He had big hands with smooth skin and perfectly trimmed nails. His eyes looked up before he snapped his fingers, his face brightening.

"I got it." He brought his irresistible eyes back to hers. "He's impotent," he suggested with a grin, mimicking the gesture of a gun and shaking it like it wasn't working.

"I never thought about it, but... Well... Who knows?" she managed to reply, trying to suppress her chuckle.

As her laughter subsided, Joe stood and headed to the other room. A sparkling Side By Side filled the whole flat. He swing-stepped back into the kitchen, snapping his fingers to the rhythm, and winked at her.

"God, how old are you, really?" she teased as her chuckle grew back again.

Grinning like an idiot, Joe bowed his head and stretched his hand out to her. After a moment of hesitation, she took it. He swayed her in an improvised dance, devoid of any grace but dripping with sexual tension. In the narrow kitchen, they ended up bumping into each and every piece of furniture. When the song reached its end, a similar one took its place and Maria laughed so hard that she ended up bending in on herself.

"You have no idea ... do you? That I've never listened ... to anything like this ... in my whole life," she managed to say, breathing between giggles.

Joe was about to counter when the doorbell rang. He excused himself with another comical head bow instead. He swiftly came back with his fat prize and landed it on the table.

Maria fished some bills from her pocket, but he frowned and shook his head. She thanked him, eagerly staring at his hands as they unwrapped their dinner.

When her hot wrap finally sat on a spotless ceramic plate in front of her she sniffed it in adoration. She held it up and her teeth slowly sank into it with the devotion of someone that hadn't seen a piece of meat in ages, and not because of a conscious life choice.

She was almost moved to tears by the strong taste of mutton and onion, bedazzled by the spiciness of chili, and by the sweet-sourness of yogurt. It was the best thing she'd eaten in ages. Halfway through her mystical experience, she let out a satisfied moan. A smile curved her lips, knowing she got that habit from Sybil and in a way they were sharing it.

"So, are you going through a period of fasting and abstinence?" Joe teased.

She shrugged, undisturbed, even while a disobedient rivulet of white yogurt dripped down her chin. Her fingers completely messed by the sauces she sucked them clean, without losing an inch of her enthusiasm.

"Not my choice, but I have to if I want to be with him," she said, taking a break from the main thing and munching away a couple of fries. "He is, kind of... Eccentric, you know? He doesn't eat this sort of stuff." She showed off her new logical word to justify Sybil's quirks.

"Does that mean that, besides not banging you, he also put you on a diet?" he asked bemused before he skillfully held his wrap and took a couple of neat big bites.

She nodded, a self-conscious smile curving her lips.

His perfectly clean hands wiped the sides of his mouth with a small napkin—not that he needed to. "You said you love him, but have you considered the possibility of being affected by some sort of Stockholm syndrome?" he teased her.

She glared at him and showed her middle finger.

Joe chuckled, his voice vibrating low regardless of the light mood. "Is he at least as pretty as me?" he asked innocently.

Maria dipped in the ketchup the fries she held between her fingers. "No, you are definitely more..." She stopped halfway, realizing she had replied before she could think about it. "You are awful!"

To prove her right, he stole a couple of fries from her plate. She slapped his hand, squinting her eyes at him, but he didn't let go of them.

"Hey, maybe this is not your hijacker's choice, but this stuff is great," he justified it, before stuffing them into his mouth.

"Ok, ok, I'll admit that this was a great choice." She nodded and gestured with her hand to show nothing was left on the table. Her index finger tugged at her bottom lip before she raised her eyes to his and spoke again. "I'm impressed that you can eat a kebab without spilling ... and, anyway, you are the sexiest man I've ever seen." Her cheeks and neck warmed up.

Surprisingly, Joe's eyes widened. He then rested his elbow on the table and slightly cocked his head to the side, leaning his temple on his knuckles. He studied her carefully as a faint smile curved his full lips.

"Listen, I've got an idea—why don't we let your Sybil see us together? Maybe he'll realize that you are the woman of his life, and everybody will live happily ever after." His deep voice had a tantalizing note to it, a slithering dark pull, tempting her to say yes.

"And what would you get out of it?" she asked, almost holding her breath.

"If he doesn't get it, you can stop thinking about him and start having fun with the sexiest man." His index finger pointed at his handsome face, a corner of his mouth twitched up.

Despite the enormous difference between Joe and Set, at times their words and gestures seemed to wield a similar power, an invisible pull like a dark magic spell drawing her close. Set was totally oblivious of it, but Maria could bet that Joe had full control over it.

She bit her lip and looked away. She was tempted, but she couldn't give away Sybil's identity. The NDA she'd signed forbade her from giving any personal information that could lead to him. It was fine as long as she did some little mischief to soothe her hurt pride, but she couldn't take the risk. She would never forgive herself if one of her games put Sybil in danger. Be it a detective or not, she couldn't trust Joe.

While she was lost in her speculations, Joe grabbed a napkin and leaned in to wipe her chin from the yogurt she'd forgotten there. Meeting her eyes, he let the napkin fall back on the table and cupped her cheek. His thumb stroked her lower lip.

She swallowed back as that dark pull intensified, and she plunged into the clear waters of his eyes. Blood flushed her face and ran down to places she'd have preferred didn't react so fast. Joe's fingers slipped down the line of her jaw until they reached her neck. Drawing a seductive imaginary line, they reached the back of her ear and played with one of her curls. She inhaled deeply, her nostrils unexpectedly filled by the fresh woody scent of rosemary.

"Tell me about Sybil," he whispered tantalizing. "What made you fall in love?"

Picturing the Oracle in her mind, Maria snapped out of Joe's hypnotic stare. She pulled back, grabbed her beer and gulped it down to the last drop. Then she waved the empty bottle in front of Joe's nose, forcing him to lean back on his chair.

"First thing, you need to make me drink much more if you want me to spill the beans. Second, this is not an interrogation, blue boy. And third, I know nothing about you." As she went down the list, squinting her eyes, she pointed the neck of the bottle at him like it was a blade.

"Oh, looks like you've got something to hide, missy." Joe grinned, snatching the empty bottle from her hands. "No harm done, I've got a fridge full of this," he added.

He stood, threw away the glass and retrieved two chilled Tuborgs. He placed them on the table, but kept hold of them as he sat back.

"Well, I'm thirty-six—handsome, smart and modest." He winked, back to his cheerful self. "I love bikes, football, and women—not necessarily in that order. I'm a detective and my pay goes around forty thousand, excluding the extras, but I'm expecting a promotion soon."

She was about to tell him that his wage wasn't the point there, but he tapped the beer on the table and cleared his throat. She pressed her lips together, pouting like a child, and waited for him to finish.

"That's why I've been super busy with work and, despite my immeasurable sex appeal, I couldn't manage to get me a pretty wife, possibly Italian, waiting for me at home with a warm dinner and only an apron to cover her," he concluded, oozing testosterone.

Before handing over her drink, he pulled the pin and threw it at her. As she barely caught it, Maria realized that the alcohol had already started to kick in.

"Wait, did we get to the proposal already? God, you could at least have brought me to some fancy restaurant," she teased him again, while she slipped the metal ring onto her finger.

"Forgive me, dear, but I'm saving to buy us a bigger house," he countered, holding back a chuckle. "Also, there are a couple of things I'd like to see you doing before the official engagement..." His lips curved in a cunning smile.

"Like what?" she asked, biting her bottom lip to tease him.

"Like..." he paused as his eyes lingered on her mouth. "You could make me breakfast tomorrow morning."

"And what make you think that tomorrow morning I'll want to come up here, just to make you breakfast?" she challenged him.

"The fact that I've got no intention to let you go home tonight," he answered in a low, sexy voice, casting her an equally burning look.

Maria swallowed hard and took a sip of her beer just to rip her eyes off of his. She felt lightheaded, her body loosening up, despite the tension in her mind. She realized that drinking more wasn't going to help her out and she put the beer down. The glass thumped on the table, harder than she meant.

"No way. Now you are going to put your cool jacket back on and drive me," she demanded, trying to put on a serious face.

She wasn't sure she'd managed to control her muscles enough to stop smiling though and her words didn't sound as harsh as she wanted them to be. Joe sighed dramatically and glanced back over his shoulder, at the time on the wall clock.

"Come on, it's just after nine," he said cautiously. "Let's watch a movie at least and then I promise I'll take you," he pleaded, bowing his head and joining his hands in prayer.

A chuckle escaped her lips, but she pointed her index finger at him ready to accuse him of something. In her clouded mind, she couldn't find anything and she ended up huffing in defeat. "Alright," she mumbled.

Joe gave her a bright smile before he headed to the other room to stop the music. She followed placidly and looked at him, while he connected the PC to the plasma and chose a movie. His well-built body, bending and stretching, was a pleasure for the eyes.

She tried to sit properly on the sofa and keep a serious demeanor, but she had a burst of giggles when the title appeared on screen – Vacanze Romane, a movie that was almost three times her age.

"If you keep this up, I'll set you up with my dad next time," she spoke before she could think.

Joe ignored her tease, turned up the volume, and reached for the sofa. He crushed on it, resting his legs over her knees.

"Ehy, when did we get so close?" Maria groaned, yet she didn't try to shake him.

"Sssh..." Keeping his eyes on the screen, he brought his index finger to his mouth to strengthen the concept.

She shook her head, huffed, and ended up watching the movie. Ten minutes into it and she was all caught up by the old romance. Even if it was one of her mother's favorite, she'd never seen it before. She ended up rooting for the princess to have her happy ending, her gaze glued to the pictures, scene after scene.

Only when the end credits scrolled down on screen, she managed to rip her teary eyes away from the video, just to find out that the detective had fallen asleep. His mouth was slightly open and his light snoring reached her ears as soon as the TV turned silent.

Looking at his innocent sleeping beauty, and realizing she'd been spared the part in which he would try to make a move and she would run away like a child, a sense of familiarity and security pervaded her.

She took her sweet time staring at his masculine unambiguous features. Her eyes trailed over his tanned skin, light lashes and tousled hair, her heart relaxing at the sound of his regular breathing.

Not only was he stunning, but he could also be a good man, given how he just slept instead of trying to put his hands on her.

It would be silly not to give him a chance.

Sybil had asked her to think about her future, to find a partner. How easy her life would be if she could just fall in love with somebody else.

She bit the inside of her cheek and decided she wasn't going to run.

She stretched slowly, careful not wake Joe, grabbed the TV controller and turned it off. Proud of herself for managing the operation smoothly, she leaned back on the sofa. While she went on imagining how it could be to date the detective, her eyes closed. As her body slid to the side, she drifted into sweet dreams.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Another, oh my, never-ending translation but I finally made it!

So, what about Joe and Maria? Have you got some idea already?

Or are you just shitting your pants? XD

I know, I'm bad.

Love you all anyway XD