Chapter 1

Sergio Rambaudi tried to hold his sigh of impatience in check. It was a hot summer day and due to the intense heat, he wanted nothing more than to go to his brother Nicola's house -- strip down to nothing and take advantage of his private beach. But the woman in front of him was just moseying along but due to the road 'con-fucktion' --construction he amended - he couldn't pass her. It made him wonder what had ever possessed him to drive out of his way to give his sister Amina the package that had just arrived from Italy. What had made the trip worth it was her promise of a tray of warm dolce di fichi- that was the reason he had changed his mind. The combination of the soft chewy fig and crisp cookie was his downfall and Amina knew that it was a sure enticement. He shouldn't be bitching about doing the errand. He loved his little sister and she was more than generous with the dolce di fichi. It was amazing that he didn't weigh over two hundred and fifty pounds ... not that he couldn't pull off such a weight with his height of over six foot five inches. But he wasn't about to stop exercising so his weight was well under two hundred pounds on a tall lean frame.

He sighed in relief when he saw his exit come into view. Flipping his turn signal on, he entered the on ramp. Moments later the flash of blue and red lights in his rearview mirror had him wanting to hit something or someone. He cursed under his breath, and slowly pulled off onto the shoulder. He leaned over and reached inside the glove box for his registration. His bad day had just taken a turn for the worse. With his obvious Italian ancestry, name and accent, he was often given the suspicious eye by the authorities even though he had been in America for almost ten years. As he pulled back, he knocked the plate of cookies that Amina had given him onto the floor.

"Damn it!" he cursed as he contorted his tall body into a pretzel when he tried to rescue his precious "loot" from the floorboard on the other side of the car.

"Straighten up slowly and let me see your hands, sir," a firm woman's voice instructed him. Shocked - he straightened up too quickly and hit his head on the rear view mirror.

"Son of a bitch!" he groaned as he placed his head over the injured area on the back of his head.

"Are you all right, sir?" the voice asked him.

"Yeah. Just peachy," he muttered.

"I need to see your driver's license, registration, and proof of insurance," she replied.

He reached over and picked up the items that she asked for and handed them to her. If he hadn't been nursing a sore head, he would have noticed the young woman's beauty. Even in a cop's uniform, she was definitely cute. She was barely over five feet tall and had warm chestnut hair that she kept pulled back in a tight French braid due to the heat. He was still rubbing his head as she took the requested information back to her cruiser with her.

Rachel Arnsworth walked quickly back to her cruiser. Slipping inside she kept her eyes on the suspect as she quickly tapped his name into the laptop mounted in the middle of her cruiser. She hummed briefly to herself as she waited for the requested information to come up. She wasn't expecting much more than a traffic violation to pop up. Given the man's attire and the car that he was driving, she was shocked when she saw an old charge --one that was nearly a decade old. How it was still on his records surprised her - since anything older than seven years was normally dropped. Public Indecency. She tried to picture the uptight man in the car, streaking. She shook her head, before grabbing her citation book and heading back to Mr Rambaudi's car.

"Mr. Rambaudi, do you know why I pulled you over?" Rachel asked him.

"No. I don't believe I was speeding." he protested.

"Your brake lights and turn signals aren't working correctly, Mr. Rambaudi. I suggest you have your mechanic look at it and get if fixed right away. I would hate to be called to an accident because some idiot tailgating you didn't realize that you were slowing down." She finished writing his ticket before handing it to him.

"What's this?" he asked, looking at a different type of citation.

"It's a "fix it" ticket. Get the repairs done and take the receipt to the courthouse where they will validate that you have fixed it. Then there

is no fine and no penalty. Or simply pay the fine and hope that I or another cop won't catch you again. Because I won't be so lenient on you next time. Have a good day, Mr. Rambaudi." she said before turning back to go to her car.

"Brutta birbona! he muttered as she walked towards the car.

Rachel stilled as memories washed over her. She hadn't heard that phrase in years. Her nanny was the last one to chastise her with that saying. And it had been years since 'Smeralda' had said it to her. The phrase reminded her that she needed to visit her beloved nanny. It had been several weeks since she had spoken with the elderly lady that had truly raised her. She should call him on his utterance but she was going to let him go.

She had just entered her car when there was a squeal of tires and the loud sound of a semi 'jake braking'. She looked up and paled as she realized that there was a semi truck barreling down the on-ramp in the wrong direction. She could see a man wearing some kind of institutional clothing at the wheel. She cursed when she saw that the

huge rig was headed straight for her squad car. She quickly strapped her seat belt on and braced herself for impact. She fingered the radio attached her shoulder.

"Headquarters this is unit 385. I have a 480 in progress."

"Location, unit 385?" dispatch asked as the semi hit the side of her car and forced her through the guardrail. She braced her head as the squad car teetered on the edge before falling into the steep gully next to the off ramp. She screamed as the ground raced up to meet her. She prayed that dispatch got her location and for some reason Sergio Rambaudi's face was the last thing she focused on before the blackness overwhelmed her.

Sergio stared in horror as the eighteen-wheeler roared by him and hit the cop car behind him. He fumbled frantically for his seat belt then shoved the door open. The eighteen-wheeler stopped for a brief moment. He memorized the plate number before he realized that the lunatic driving it was backing up. He jumped back in his car just in time. He winced as his driver's side door was ripped off it's hinges. "Son of bitch!" This car was a lease. He would never get his deposit back now! He frantically grabbed his cell phone and punched in 911. He waited for the operator to come on.

He quickly gave the operator his location and told her about the license plate number for the truck before explaining that the cop car had been pushed through the guardrail.

"Sir, can you see the unit number on the car?" she asked him.

"Just a sec." He got out of his car on unsteady feet and walked to the gaping gap in the guardrail. He peered down into the gully. He squinted trying to see the white number that was painted on the trunk of the cruiser. "I think it's 38 ... shit I can't see the last number. The car is on it's side. I can't make out the number. Wait, a second. I think the officer's name is on the ticket that she gave me."

"Ticket, sir?"

"Yeah, my tail lights aren't working apparently," Sergio said sheepishly as he grabbed the ticket off the seat. "Officer Rachel Arnsword ... no Arnsworth." He said trying to read Rachel's signature.

"Stay on the line, sir." He dropped the ticket back on the seat and headed back over to the opening. "Rachel, can you hear me?" he called down to the car. He strained to see if there was any movement inside of the cruiser.

"Unit 385, this is dispatch, respond please."

He stilled as he heard the tinny voice of the police radio.

"I can hear you calling the officer." he told the woman on the phone. "I think that she might be unconscious. She was plowed pretty hard by that semi."

"Affirmative dispatch, this unit 385," Rachel's weak voice echoed through the connection in his ear.

"She's alive!" he said as intense relief flooded his system.

"Status, unit 385?"

A long silence followed.

"Sir, can you see the officer?" the dispatcher asked.

"No. But give me a minute. I'm going down there." Sergio replied as he slipped his cell phone into his suit pocket before grabbing one mangled edge. He slid down the bank and came to rest against the side of the car. Peering inside of the vehicle through the shattered glass of the car door - he tried to make out Rachel. She was slumped over in the seat, her seat belt holding her in place.

"Miss!" Sergio said loudly, hoping to get a response from her. He reached into his pocket and retrieved the phone. "She's unconscious. I don't see any blood but it's hard to tell. The car is on its side in the ditch below the roadway. There's broken glass everywhere." he told the dispatcher.

"All right, sir. Can you smell any gas?"

"No. I think we got lucky. The drivers' side of the car is all mangled but it just slid down the embankment on it's side. I don't think that I can get the door open. It's jammed!"

"We're sending help, sir. Please stay with the vehicle and help will arrive shortly," the dispatcher assured him.

He sighed as he turned the phone off. Propping his hip on the mangled edge of the fender, he reached into the car and brushed his fingers over the sleeve of her uniform shirt After brushing away the fragments of glass from her shoulder, he sighed roughly. He felt so helpless. Maybe he should try to rouse her again.

"Rachel? Rachel — wake up! Help is coming!"

Rachel struggled to answer the gentle voice. But her head hurt and so did several of her ribs. She knew that she had been hit by the semi but she wasn't sure how long ago it had happened and who was trying to get her attention. Her last recollection was of pulling Sergio over and giving him a ticket for his taillights. She groaned softly as she tried to open her eyes.

"Rachel? Mi bella, please open your eyes and talk to me," the voice pleaded with her.

"I'm not your beauty," she growled, "and quite shouting!"

"Thank God. I've already called 911. They are sending help right away. I can't get you out of there. The door is all mangled. They are going to have to use the 'saws of life', I think." Sergio said more softly.

"Saw of life?" Rachel asked as she turned her head to look out her cruiser's window.

"Yeah, you know the can opener thing for cars?" Sergio said earnestly.

Rachel looked at him blankly for a moment. Can opener for cars? Then it finally clicked.

"Oh you mean the Jaws of Life!" Then she sobered. If they used the Jaws of Life on her cruiser, her boss was going to be pissed. She had just gotten the specially equipped cruiser for her and her K-9 dog, Rambo. Rambo? How had the accident affected Rambo?

"Hey can you do me a favor?" she gasped after trying to turn around to check on Rambo and nearly passing out from the chest pain again.

"Sure." Sergio said as he continued to lean over the car.

"Can you check on Rambo? He's in the back of the car, " she said trying not to cry from the pain coming from her ribs. She had definitely broken a few of them.

Sergio stared down at Rachel in disbelief. She had to be delirious. He knew who Rambo was and even though this was California, he didn't think that she had Sylvester Stallone in the back seat of her car.

"Please," she pleaded. "He's my partner."

"Okay." He decided to humor her. He moved slowly down the car, not wanting to push the car any further off balance with his weight. He peered into the darkened backseat of her cruiser and nearly had a heart attack when a dog surged up towards the window and started barking at him.

"Hey Rachel, is Rambo your dog?" he asked as the dog continued to bark.

"No, he's my partner." she said. "And what did you do to piss him off?" she joked weakly as she listened to Rambo bark at the man.

"Nothing." he said in defense.

"Dispatch, this unit 385, copy?" she said into her radio.

"Copy unit 385. Status?"

"Minor injuries. K-9 officer Rambo is uninjured. Christ, Kevin -that is Captain, is going to be pissed. My car is totaled." she told the dispatcher.

"Don't worry about the car, Arnsworth. He'll be happy that you and Rambo are okay. What are your injuries?"

"Probably a concussion and it feels like I have a few busted ribs. Civilian on scene checked on Rambo. From the way he's barking, I am sure that he's uninjured."

"Good. We are trying to get an ambulance and the fire department to you; but with the road construction and the rush hour traffic it's going to be a bit. Hold on tight and we'll get there ASAP. Over."

"Copy that dispatch." she replied.

"Is help on its way?" Sergio asked as he came back to her window, careful of the broken glass that littered the frame.

"Yeah. It'll be a while. If you want to head home you can." she said, hating the idea of delaying him. "I am sure that you have a wife and kiddos at home waiting for you."

"Nope. Even if I did mi famigila would understand. Rambaudi's don't run from trouble."

"Well, I will be the first to admit that this is trouble." Rachel laughed and then groaned as her ribs protested.

Sergio leaned more comfortably against the car as he conversed with Rachel. It had been almost an hour since the accident and help was no closer than it had been when the accident first occurred. In the process he had learned a few things about her, such as the fact that she was an only child of widower father. Her mother had died giving birth due to the hemorrhaging. Because of that she had been raised by her father and a very strict but loving nanny named Smeralda. Sergio listened as Rachel talked, but he could tell as the time drew on that she was becoming more and more uncomfortable.

"I'll be right back, Rachel." Sergio told her before he scrambled back up the embankment. He walked quickly to his car and rooted around inside of it. Gathering up a handful of items, he hurried back to Rachel. Sliding back down the embankment, he hit the car with his full body weight. He cursed softly as Rachel moaned from inside the battered cruiser as the movement jarred the car.

"Sorry, Rachel. I came down a bit faster than I intended. I thought you might be thirsty or hungry. And I have some over the counter pain relievers. I thought they might help." he said as he dug the bottle of aspirin out of his pocket after balancing his plate of cookies on the car and taking a bottle of cappuccino out of his other pocket.

"Really? What kind?" she asked hopefully.

"Aspirin, 400 mg." he said reading the label.

"Damn it." Rachel said dejectedly.

"What's wrong."

"I can't take it. I'm allergic to aspirin. I can have non-aspirin or ibuprofen but not aspirin."

"Well, hell. Can I at least offer you a cookie and some cold cappuccino?" he asked her.

"Coffee? Cookies?" Rachel said just before her stomach growled.

"I'll take that as a yes." he laughed as he pulled the plastic wrap off the plate. He grabbed two of them then he handed them inside of the car to her.

She stared at him and then the cookies.

"Are those dolce di fichi?" she asked as she sniffed at them.

"Yeah. My sister, Amina, makes them for me. They're my favorite," he said sheepishly.

"Well that's one thing we have in common. Smeralda couldn't bake but her younger brother would make them up by the dozens and send them to us. He was a baker in Italy. It must have cost him a fortune but about every 3 or 4 weeks we would get a care package from him."

"Really, what part of Italy was he from?" Sergio asked out of curiosity.

"Ah, I think Smeralda said he's in Ventimiglia?" she as she tried to remember.

"Really. That's where my family is from!" he said excitedly. "We would all go to Capo Mortola every summer."

"What's in Capo Mortola?" Rachel asked innocently.

"Why it has one of the few nudist beaches in Italy." he said neutrally.

"Really? Just out of curiosity, Sergio. I noticed on your record you have a charge of indecency. I was wondering about that..." she trailed off, obviously picturing him on a public beach walking around in the buff.

"Oh yeah," he said sheepishly. "I was new to your country and didn't realize that your beaches didn't allow nudity."

She stared at him in silence before laughing softly. He arched a brow at her merriment.

"I'm sorry, Sergio! It's just the idea of you stripping down to your skin and having some lifeguard try to explain to you that the beach wasn't a clothing optional one - just strikes my funny bone. I'm sure that it was embarrassing for you at the time."

"At the time, a bit. My brother teases me relentlessly about it."

"Is he younger or older."

"Older. In fact I was on my way to his house when you pulled me over."

"I'm sorry to ruin your plans, Sergio."

"Don't worry about that, Rachel. What kind of man would I be if I ran off and left you here by yourself," Sergio asked.

Rachel sat in the cruiser, munching on cookies, sipping on a cold cappuccino, and couldn't believe - that even though she was in pain- she was envisioning Sergio walking on the beach in the nude. She sighed, glad that her Kevlar vest hid the fact that her nipples were hardened and peaked. There was no way that she was going to try and explain that occurrence to him.

"You know, Rachel, I can almost hear the wheels in your head turning," Sergio said as he crouched down next to her window.

She laughed at him.

"You think that's funny?" he asked as he lifted a dark brow.

"Sure. I was just wondering about the nude beach thing."

"What about it?" he asked - surprised that she was curious.

"I can't imagine all those men and woman wandering around on the beach like Adam and Eve. All I can envision is a wild orgy taking place." she said as her cheeks flushed.

"You know as long as I've been going to the beach, I've never actually seen an orgy take place."

"I think it would be distracting to have all those guys running around nude. Now a woman can hide her reaction to seeing all them walking around but a man ... well I'm sure that it's a bit harder ... to ah..." she stammered as her face grew red.

He leaned forward, into the car and gently turned her face towards him.

"Is that your way of asking if I ever gotten hard on the beach, Brutta birbona, " he asked her, watching as the blush deepened on her face.

"I wish you wouldn't call me that," she mumbled.

"Why's that, Rachel?"

"Because you remind me of Smeralda when you do."

"Oh believe me the last person I want to remind you of is your nanny, mi bella" Sergio stated.

"What?" she squeaked, her nerves draw tight at his intense stare.

"You, Officer Arnsworth, are a very attractive woman. One that I wouldn't mind seeing again."

"You are crazy," Rachel laughed. "I am a mess. I have bruises all over me, a goose egg on my head and probably several broken ribs and you say I am attractive. You, Mr. Rambaudi, are a flatterer and you need to have your eyes examined," she informed him.

"I thought you were beautiful when you pulled me over." he countered.

"You were pissed when I pulled you over, Sergio. I could hear you cussing ten feet from the car." she shot back.

"Ah yes, I was pissed. But you know, I didn't stay that way long. You were very sexy walking back to that car of yours. I about had a heart attack when the semi roared by me and hit your car. When this over, I would like to take you out. Of course when you are feeling better."

"I don't think so, Mr. Rambaudi," Rachel told him softly.

"We'll see about that, Brutta birbona, " Sergio said with a soft smile.

Two weeks later

Sergio waited patiently outside the police department. He knew that Rachel was inside. Her new car was sitting out in the parking lot and Rambo was laying in the backseat. She had left the car 'on idle' as per state regulations to keep him cool.

He nodded at a group of officers that exited the building. Leaning up against the building he crossed his legs at the ankle. His patience finally paid off as Rachel walked slowly out of the building. Her chesnut hair was pulled up into high ponytail. It swung back and forth sexily as she made her way down the steps. She was still moving stiffly so it was obvious - to him - that her ribs were still bothering her. It worried him that she was pushing herself too hard - too soon.

She was just a petite little thing and that brought out all his protective instincts. He wasn't sure what had exactly happened that day on that off ramp, but something had changed in him. It was as if he had met his soul mate -- the perfect woman for him. And now all he had to do was convince her.

"Brutta birbona, why have you been avoiding me?" His voice boomed, drawing attention to them.

Rachel froze. She slowly turned around and glared at him. He pushed off the building and slowly walked down the stairs towards her. She had set her mouth in defiance. He was tempted to kiss that frown right off her lush lips.

"Mr. Rambaudi. I wasn't expecting to see you again." she said stiffly, obviously hoping that if she gave him the cold shoulder he would go away. Not likely, he mused.