THE DEFIORE BROTHERS

A recipe for dating DeFiore men…

Take two Italian brothers with a pinch of playboy charm

Add two American sisters with a liberal dash of feistiness

Simmer under warm Italian skies until perfectly combined

Serve with lashings of love.

To start: The Playboy of Rome

Dante DeFiore is passionate about life, women, and the tasty Italian food he creates. And with the arrival of feisty American TV star Lizzie Addler he finds her almost too tempting to resist! As the temperature soars in the kitchen the passion between Lizzie and Dante simmers until they reach boiling point.

Has this Italian playboy finally met his match?

The main: Best Man for the Bridesmaid

Stefano DeFiore is proud and reserved—he likes the quiet life. So planning a wedding for his celebrity chef brother is his idea of hell. But when bold and colourful Jules Lane enters his world—chief bridesmaid and sister to the bride—Stefano decides to take his best man duties seriously…including doing all he can to make Jules’s time in Italy simply heaven…

To finish: happily ever after?

The Playboy of Rome

Jennifer Faye

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Award-winning author JENNIFER FAYE pens fun, heartwarming romances. Jennifer has won the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award, is a TOP PICK author, and has been nominated for numerous awards. Now living her dream, she resides with her patient husband, one amazing daughter (the other remarkable daughter is off chasing her own dreams) and two spoiled cats. She’d love to hear from you via her website: JenniferFaye.com.

For Ami.

To a wonderful friend who has kept me company as we’ve walked a similar path.

Thank you for your friendship and unwavering encouragement.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

“SCUSA.”

Dante DeFiore stepped into the path of a young woman trying to skirt around the line at Ristorante Massimo. Her long blond hair swished over her shoulder as she turned to him. Her icy blue gaze met his. The impact of her piercing stare rocked him. He couldn’t turn away. Thick black eyeliner and sky-blue eye shadow that shimmered succeeded in making her stunning eyes even more extraordinary.

Dante cleared his throat. “Signorina, are you meeting someone?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Really?” He truly was surprised. “Someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t be alone.”

Her fine brows rose and a smile tugged at her tempting lips.

He smiled back. Any other time, he’d have been happy to ask her to be his personal guest but not tonight. Inwardly he groaned. Why did he have to have his hands full juggling both positions of maître d’ and head chef when the most delicious creature was standing in front of him?

He choked down his regret. It just wasn’t meant to be. Tonight there was no time for flirting—not even with this stunning woman who could easily turn heads on the runways of Milan.

He glanced away from her in order to clear his thoughts. Expectant looks from the people waiting to be seated reminded him of his duties. He turned back to those amazing blue eyes. “I hate to say this, but you’ll have to take your place at the end of the line.”

“It’s okay.” Her pink glossy lips lifted into a knowing smile. “You don’t have to worry. I work here.”

“Here?” Impossible. He’d certainly remember her. By the sounds of her speech, she was American.

“This is Mr. Bianco’s restaurant, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Then I’m in the right place.”

Suddenly the pieces fell into place. His staff had been cut in half because of a nasty virus running rampant throughout Rome. He’d called around to see if any business associates could loan him an employee or two. Apparently when Luigi said he might be able to track down a friend of one of his daughters, he’d gotten lucky.

Relief flooded through Dante. Help was here at last and by the looks of her, she’d certainly be able to draw in the crowds. Not so long ago, they hadn’t needed anyone to draw in customers; his grandfather’s cooking was renowned throughout Rome. But in recent months all of that had changed.

“And I’d be the luckiest man in the world to have such a beauty working here. You’ll have the men lined up down the street. Just give me a moment.” Dante turned and signaled to the waiter.

When Michael approached Dante, the man’s forehead was creased in confusion. “What do you need?”

In that moment, Dante’s mind drew a blank. All he could envision were those mesmerizing blue eyes. This was ridiculous. He had a business to run.

When he glanced over at the line of customers at the door, the anxious stares struck a chord in his mind. “Michael, could you seat that couple over there?” He pointed to an older couple. “Give them the corner table. It’s their fortieth anniversary, so make sure their meal is on us.”

“No problema.”

Lines of exhaustion bracketed Michael’s mouth. Dante couldn’t blame the guy. Being shorthanded and having to see to the dining room himself was a lot of work.

Dante turned his attention back to his unexpected employee. She had her arms crossed and her slender hip hitched to the side. A slight smile pulled at the corners of her lush lips as though she knew she’d caught him off guard—something that rarely happened to him.

He started to smile back when a patron entered the door and called out a greeting, reminding Dante that work came first. Since his grandfather was no longer around to help shoulder the burden of running this place, Dante’s social life had been reduced to interaction with the guests of Ristorante Massimo.

After a brief ciao to a regular patron, Dante turned back to his temporary employee. “Thanks for coming. If you give me your coat, I can hang it up for you.”

“I’ve got it.” She clutched the lapels but made no attempt to take it off.

“You can hang it over there.” He pointed to the small cloakroom. “We can work out everything later.”

“You want me to start right now?”

That was the plan, but perhaps Luigi had failed to make that part clear. “Didn’t he tell you that you’d be starting right away?”

“Yes, but I thought I’d have a chance to look around. And I didn’t think I’d be a hostess.”

“Consider this an emergency. I promise you it’s not hard. I’m certain you’ll be fantastic...uh...” Did she give him her name? If she had, he couldn’t recall it. “What did you say your name is?”

“Lizzie. Lizzie Addler.”

“Well, Lizzie, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dante. And I really appreciate you pitching in during this stressful time.”

“Are you sure you want me out here? I’d be a lot more help in the kitchen.”

The kitchen? With her looks, who would hide such a gem behind closed doors? Perhaps she was just shy. Not that anything about her stunning appearance said that she was an introvert.

“I’d really appreciate it if you could help these people find a table.”

She nodded.

An assistant rushed out of the kitchen. “We need you.”

By the harried look on the young man’s face, Dante knew it couldn’t be good. He turned to his new employee. There would be time for introductions and formalities later. Right now, he just needed to keep the kitchen from falling behind and giving the patrons an excuse to look for food elsewhere.

“Sorry for this rush but I am very shorthanded.” When the girl sent him a puzzled look, he realized that Luigi might not have filled her in on the details of her duties. “If you could just get everyone seated and get their drinks, Michael can take their orders. Can you do that?”

She nodded before slipping off her long black coat to reveal a frilly white blouse that hinted at her willowy figure, a short black skirt that showed off her long legs and a pair of knee-high sleek black boots. He stifled a whistle. Definitely not the reaction a boss should give an employee, even if she was gorgeous enough to create a whirlwind of excitement on the cover of a fashion magazine.

He strode to the kitchen, hoping that nothing had caught fire and that no one had been injured. When was this evening going to end? And had his grandfather’s friend Luigi been trying to help by sending Lizzie? Or trying to drive him to distraction?

Once the kitchen was again humming along, he retraced his steps just far enough to catch a glimpse of the blonde bombshell. She moved about on those high-heeled boots as if they were a natural extension of her long legs. He swallowed hard as his eyes followed her around the dining room. He assured himself that he was just doing his duty by checking up on her.

When she smiled and chatted with a couple of older gentlemen, Dante’s gut tightened. She sure seemed far more at ease with those men than when he’d been talking with her. How strange. Usually he didn’t have a problem making conversation with the female gender. Lizzie was certainly different. Too bad she wouldn’t be around long enough to learn more about her. She intrigued him.

* * *

Obviously there was a misunderstanding.

Lizzie Addler frowned as she locked the front door of Ristorante Massimo. She hadn’t flown from New York to Italy to be a hostess. She was here to work in the kitchen—to learn from the legendary chef, Massimo Bianco. And to film a television segment to air on the culinary channel’s number-one-rated show. It was a dream come true.

The strange thing was she’d flown in two days early, hoping to get her bearings in this new country. How in the world did this Dante know she was going to show up this evening?

It was impossible. But then again, this smooth-talking man seemed to know who she was. So why put her on hostess duty when he knew that her true talents lay in the kitchen?

Her cheeks ached from smiling so much, but all it took was recalling Dante’s flattering words and the corners of her lips lifted once again. She’d heard rumors that Italian men were known to be charmers and now that she knew that it was true—at least in Dante’s case—she’d have to be careful around him. She couldn’t lose focus on her mission here.

She leaned her back against the door and sighed. She couldn’t remember the last time her feet ached this much. Why in the world had she decided to wear her new boots today of all days?

Oh, yes, to make a good impression. And technically the boots weren’t new—just new to her. They were secondhand, like all of Lizzie’s things. But in her defense, some of her things still had the tags on them when she’d found them at the gently used upscale boutique. And boy, was she thankful she’d splurged on the stylish clothes.

Her gaze strayed to the wall full of framed pictures of celebrities. There were black and whites as well as color photos through the years. Massimo was in a lot of them alongside movie stars, singers and politicians from around the world. As Lizzie scanned the many snapshots, she found Dante’s handsome face. In each photo of him, he was smiling broadly with his arm around a beautiful woman.

“Pretty impressive?”

She knew without looking that it’d be Dante. “Very impressive.” She forced her gaze to linger on the army of photos instead of rushing to ogle the tall, dark and undeniably handsome man at her side. “Have all of these people eaten here?”

“Yes. And there are more photos back in the office. We ran out of space out here.” His voice was distinguishable with its heavy Italian accent. The rich tones flowed through her as seductively as crème brûlée. “We should add your photo.”

“Me.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “But I’m a nobody.”

“You, my dear, are definitely not a nobody.” His gaze met hers and heat rushed to her cheeks. “Is everything wrapped up out here?”

Her mouth went dry and she struggled to swallow. “Yes...yes, the last customer just left.”

Lines of exhaustion etched the tanned skin around his dark eyes. His lips were lifted in a friendly smile, but something told her that it was all for her benefit and that he didn’t feel like doing anything but calling it a night.

“I can’t thank you enough for your help this evening.” His gaze connected with hers, making her pulse spike. “I suppose you’ll be wanting your pay so that you can be on your way. If you would just wait a moment.”

Before she could formulate words, he turned and headed to the back of the restaurant. Pay her? For what? Playing hostess for the evening? She supposed that was above and beyond her contract negotiations with the television network.

Dante quickly returned and placed some euros in her hand. His fingers were warm as the backs of his fingers brushed over her palm, causing her stomach to quiver. She quickly pulled her hand away.

“Thank you so much. You truly were a lifesaver.” He moved to the door to let her out.

She didn’t follow him. She wasn’t done here. Not by a long shot. “I’m not leaving. Not yet.”

Dante shot her a puzzled look. “If this is about the money, this is the amount I told Luigi I was willing to pay—”

Lizzie shook her head. “It’s not that. I came here to meet with Chef Massimo.”

“You did? You mean Luigi didn’t send you?”

“I don’t know any Luigi.”

Dante reached in his pocket and pulled out his smartphone. A few keystrokes later, he glanced up. “My mistake. Luigi wasn’t able to find anyone to help out. Thank goodness you showed up.”

“And I was happy to help. Now if you could introduce me to Chef Massimo.”

Dante’s forehead creased. “That’s not going to happen.” His tone was firm and unbendable. “He’s not here. You’ll have to deal with me.”

“I don’t think so. I’ll wait for him.”

Dante rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “You’ll be waiting a long time. Chef Massimo is out of town.”

“Listen, I know I’m here a couple of days ahead of time, but we do have an agreement to meet.”

“That’s impossible.” Dante’s shoulders straightened and his expression grew serious. “I would have known. I know about everything that has to do with this place.”

“Obviously not in this case.” Lizzie pressed her lips together, immediately regretting her outburst. She was tired after her long flight and then having to work all evening as a hostess.

“You’re obviously mixed up. You should be going.” He pulled open the front door, letting a cool evening breeze sweep inside and wrap around her.

She couldn’t leave. Her whole future was riding on this internship, and the money from participating in the upcoming cooking show would pay for her sister’s grad school. She couldn’t let her down. She’d promised Jules that if she got accepted to graduate school she’d make sure there was money for the tuition. Jules had already had so many setbacks in her life that Lizzie refused to fail her.

She stepped up to Dante, and even though she was wearing heeled boots, she still had to tilt her chin upward to look him in the eyes. “I did you a big favor tonight. The least you can do is hear me out.”

Dante let the door swing shut and led her back to the dining room, where he pulled out a chair for her before he took a seat across the table. “I’m listening.”

Lizzie wished it wasn’t so late in the evening. Dante looked wiped out, not exactly the optimal position to gain his understanding. Still, she didn’t have any other place to go.

Her elbows pressed down on the white linen tablecloth as she folded her hands together. “Chef Massimo has agreed to mentor me.”

Dante’s gaze narrowed in on her. “Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?”

“Why should you know about it? My agreement isn’t with you.”

“Massimo Bianco is my maternal grandfather. And with him away, I’m running this place.”

This man wasn’t about to give an inch, at least not easily. “When will he return so we can straighten things out?”

Dante leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. His dark eyes studied her. She’d love to know what he was thinking. Then again, maybe not. The past couple of days had been nothing but a blur. She’d rushed to wrap up her affairs in New York City before catching a transatlantic flight. The last thing she’d wanted to do was play hostess, but she figured she’d be a good sport. After all, Dante seemed to be in a really tight spot. But now she didn’t understand why he was being so closemouthed about Massimo.

“All you need to know is that my grandfather won’t be returning. So any business you have with him, you’ll have to deal with me. Tell me about this agreement.”

Uneasiness crept down her spine. This man had disbelief written all over his handsome features. But what choice did she have but to deal with him since she had absolutely no idea how to contact Chef Massimo? The only phone number she had was for this restaurant. And the email had also been for the restaurant.

“The agreement is for him to mentor me for the next two months.”

Dante shook his head. “It isn’t going to happen. I’m sorry you traveled all of this way for nothing. But you’ll have to leave now.”

Lizzie hadn’t flown halfway around the globe just to be turned away—she’d been rejected too many times in her life. Her reasons for being here ran deeper than appearing on the television show. She truly wanted to learn from the best and Massimo Bianco was a renowned chef, whose name on her résumé would carry a lot of weight in the culinary world.

“Surely you could use the extra help.” After what she’d witnessed this evening, she had no doubt about it.

“If not for this virus going around, Massimo’s would be fully staffed. We don’t have room for someone else in the kitchen.”

“Obviously Chef Bianco doesn’t agree with your assessment. He assured me there would be a spot for me.”

Dante’s eyes darkened. “He was mistaken. And now that I’ve heard you out, I must insist that you leave.”

These days she proceeded cautiously and was always prepared. She reached in her oversize purse and pulled out the signed document. “You can’t turn me away.”

When she held out a copy of the contract, Dante’s dark brows rose. Suddenly he didn’t look as in charge as he had just a few seconds ago. Funny how a binding legal document could change things so quickly.

When he reached for the papers, their fingers brushed. His skin was warm and surprisingly smooth. Their gazes met and held. His eyes were dark and mysterious. Instead of being intimidated by him, she was drawn to him.

Not that she was in Italy to have a summer romance. She had a job to do and this man was standing between her and her future. He may be stubborn, but he’d just met his match.

CHAPTER TWO

WHAT WAS IT about this woman that had him feeling off-kilter?

Could it be the way her touch sent currents of awareness up his arm? Realizing they were still touching, Dante jerked his hand away. He clenched his fingers, creasing the hefty document.

Or maybe it was those cool blue eyes of hers that seemed to study his every move. It was as though she could see more of him than he cared for anyone to observe. Not that he had any secrets to hide—well, other than his plans to sell the ristorante.

His gaze scrolled over the first lines of the document, pausing when he saw his grandfather’s name followed by Ristorante Massimo. He continued skimming over the legalese until his gaze screeched to a halt at the mention of a television show. His gut twisted into a knot. This was much more involved than he’d ever imagined.

“You said this was for an internship. You didn’t mention anything about a television show.”

Her lips moved but nothing came out. It was as though she wasn’t sure exactly how to proceed. If she thought he was going to make this easy for her, she’d have to think again. She’d tried to get him to agree to let her work here under false pretenses when in fact she had much bigger plans.

When she didn’t respond fast enough, he added, “How long were you planning to keep that little bit of information a secret?”

Her forehead wrinkled. “Obviously I wasn’t keeping it a secret or I wouldn’t have handed you the contract.”

She had a valid point, but it didn’t ease his agitation. He once again rubbed at his stiff neck. It’d been an extremely long day. Not only was he short-staffed but also the meeting with the potential buyers for the ristorante hadn’t gone well. They didn’t just want the building. They also wanted the name and the secret recipes that put his grandfather’s name up there with the finest chefs.

Dante didn’t have the right to sell those recipes—recipes that went back to his grandmother’s time. They were special to his grandfather. Still, selling them would keep them alive for others to enjoy instead of them being forgotten in a drawer. But could he actually approach his grandfather and ask for the right to sell them? Those recipes were his grandfather’s pride and joy. In fact, employees signed a nondisclosure agreement to maintain the secrecy of Massimo’s signature dishes. The thought of selling out left a sour taste in Dante’s mouth.

“As you can see in the contract, the television crew will be here on Tuesday.” Her words brought Dante back to his latest problem.

“I also see that you’ve arrived a couple of days early.” He wasn’t sure what he meant by that statement. He was stalling. Thinking.

“I like to be prepared. I don’t like surprises. So I thought I’d get settled in and maybe see some of the sights in Rome. I’ve heard it’s a lovely city.”

“Well, since my grandfather isn’t going to be able to mentor you, perhaps you can have an extended holiday before heading back to—”

“New York. And I didn’t come here for a vacation. I came here to work and to learn.” She got to her feet. “Maybe I should just speak with one of the people in the kitchen. Perhaps they can point me in the direction of your grandfather.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

His grandfather didn’t need to be bothered with this—he had more important issues to deal with at the moment. Dante could and would handle this woman. After all, there had to be a way out of this. Without reading the rest of the lengthy details, he flipped to the last page.

“It’s all signed and legal, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Her voice held a note of confidence, and she sat back down.

She was right. Right there in black and white was his grandfather’s distinguished signature. There was no denying the slope of the M or the scroll of Bianco. Dante resisted the urge to ball up the document and toss it into the stone fireplace across the room from them. Not that it would help since the fire had been long ago extinguished.

He refused to let the sale of the ristorante—the deal he’d been negotiating for weeks—go up in smoke because of some promotional deal his grandfather had signed. There had to be a way around it. Dante wondered how much it’d take to convince Lizzie to quietly return to New York.

“I’m sure we can reach some sort of agreement.” He was, after all, a DeFiore. He had access to a sizable fortune. “What will it take for you to forget about your arrangement with my grandfather?”

She sat up straighter. “Nothing.”

“What do you mean nothing?”

“I mean that I’m not leaving.” She leaned forward, pressing her elbows down on the tabletop. “I don’t think you understand how serious I am. I’ve cut out months of my life for this internship. I’ve said goodbye to my family and friends in order to be here. I had to quit my job. Are you getting the picture? Everything is riding on this agreement—my entire future. I have a signed agreement and I intend to film a television segment in that kitchen.” She pointed over her shoulder.

She’d quit her job!

Who did something like that? Obviously someone very trusting or very desperate. Which type was she? Her beautiful face showed lines of stress and the darkness below her eyes hinted at her exhaustion. He was leaning toward the desperate scenario.

Perhaps he’d been too rough on her. He really hadn’t meant to upset her. He knew how frustrating it could be to be so close to getting what you wanted and yet having a barricade thrown in the way.

“Listen, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I’m sure you’ll be able to land another job somewhere else—”

“And what are you planning to do about the film crew when they arrive?”

Dante’s lips pressed together. Yes, what was he going to do? This situation was getting ever so complicated. He eyed up the woman. Was she on the level? Was she truly after the work experience? The opportunity to learn? Or was she an opportunist playing on his sympathies?

He certainly didn’t want to spend his time inflating her ego in front of the camera crew for the next two months—two very long months. But he was getting the very unsettling feeling that there was no way over, around or under the arrangement without a lengthy, messy lawsuit, which would hold up the sale of the ristorante.

* * *

This was not how things were supposed to go.

Lizzie resisted the urge to get up and start pacing. It was what she usually did when she was stuck in a tough spot. While growing up in the foster care system, she’d found herself in plenty of tough spots. But the one thing she’d learned through it all was not to give up—if it was important enough, there had to be a solution. It’d worked to keep Jules, her foster sister, with her through the years. She just had to take a deep breath and not panic.

Dante appeared to be a businessman. Surely he’d listen to logic. It was her last alternative. She sucked in a steadying breath, willing her mind to calm. “If you’ll read over the contract, you’ll see that your grandfather has agreed not only to mentor me but also to host a television crew. We’re doing a reality spot for one of the cooking shows. It’s been in the works for months now. Your grandfather was very excited about the project and how it’d give this place—” she waved her hand around at the restaurant that had a very distinct air about it “—international recognition. Just think of all the people that would know the name Ristorante Massimo.”

Dante’s eyes lit up with interest. “Do you have some numbers to back up your claims?”

She would have brought them, if she’d known she’d need them. “Your grandfather is confident in the value of these television segments. He has made numerous appearances on the culinary channel and has made quite a name for himself.”

“I know. I was here for every one of those appearances.”

She studied Dante’s face for some recollection of him. His tanned skin. His dark eyes. His strong jaw. And those lips... Oh, they looked good enough to kiss into submission... She jerked her attention back to the conversation. “Why don’t I recall seeing you in any of them?”

“Because I took a very small role in them. I didn’t understand why my grandfather would sign up for those television appearances.”

Her gaze narrowed in on him. “Do you have something against people on television?”

“No.” He crossed his arms and leaned back, rocking his chair on the rear two legs. “I just think in a lot of cases they misrepresent life. They give people false hope that they’ll be overnight successes. Most of the time life doesn’t work that way. Life is a lot harder.”

There was a glimmer of something in his eyes. Was it regret? Or pain? In a blink, his feelings were once again hidden. She was locked out. And for some reason that bothered her. Not that it should—it wasn’t as though they were friends. She didn’t even know him.

Not about to waste her time debating the positive and negative points of television, she decided to turn the conversation back around to her reason for being here. “Surely your grandfather will be back soon. After all, he has a restaurant to run.”

“I’m afraid that he won’t be returning.”

“He won’t?” This was news to her. Surely he couldn’t be right. “But we have an agreement. And he was so eager for us to begin.”

Dante rubbed his jaw as though trying to decide if he should say more. His dark gaze studied her intently. It made her want to squirm in her seat but she resisted.

“Whatever you’re thinking, just say it. I need to know what’s going on.”

Dante sighed. “My grandfather recently experienced a stroke. He has since moved to the country.”

“Oh, no.” She pressed a hand to her chest. This was so much worse than she’d imagined. “Is he going to be all right?”

Dante’s brows lifted as though he was surprised by her concern. “Yes, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. He’s getting therapy.”

“Thank goodness. Your grandfather seemed so lively and active. I just can’t imagine that happening to him.”

She thought back to their lively emails and chatty phone conversations. Massimo’s voice had been rich and robust like a dark roast espresso. He was what she thought of when she imagined having a grandfather of her own. “He was so full of life.”

“How exactly did you get to know him?”

Perhaps she’d said too much. It wasn’t as if she and Massimo were that close. “At first, the production group put us in touch. We emailed back and forth. Then we started talking on the phone, discussing how we wanted to handle the time slots. After all, they are short, so we couldn’t get too elaborate. But then again, we didn’t want to skimp and do just the basics.”

“Sounds like you two talked quite a bit.”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t like we talked every day. More like when one of us had a good idea. But that was hampered by the time difference. And then recently the calls stopped. When I phoned here I was merely told that he wasn’t available and that they’d give him a message.”

Dante’s eyes opened wide as though a thought had come to him. “I remember seeing those messages. I had no idea who you were or what you wanted. I was beginning to wonder if my grandfather had a girlfriend on the side.”

“Nope, it was me. And now that you know the whole story, what’s yours?”

“My what?”

“Story. I take it you run this place for your grandfather.”

His brows furrowed together as though he knew where this conversation was leading. “Yes, I do.”

“Have you worked here long?” She wanted as much information as possible so she could plot out a backup plan.

He hesitantly nodded.

“That must be wonderful to learn from such a talented chef.” There had to be a way to salvage this deal. But she needed to know more. “When did you start working with your grandfather?”

“When I was a kid, I would come and visit. But it wasn’t until later that I worked here full-time.”

She noticed that his answers were vague at best, giving her no clue as to his family life or why he came here to work. Perhaps he needed the money. Still, as she stared across the table at him, his whole demeanor spoke of money and culture. She also couldn’t dismiss the fact that most women would find him alarmingly handsome. In fact, he’d make some real eye candy for the television spot. And if that was what it took to draw in an audience, who was she to argue.

She’d been earning money cooking since she was fourteen. Of course, being so young, she’d been paid under the table. Over the years, she’d gained more and more experience, but never thinking she’d ever have a shot at owning a restaurant of her own, she’d taken the safe route and gone to college. She’d needed a way to make decent money to keep herself and Jules afloat.

But then Jules entered her application for a reality TV cooking show. Jules had insisted that she needed to take a risk and follow her dream of being a chef in her own five-star restaurant.

Winning that reality show had been a huge stepping-stone. It gave her a television contract and a plane ticket to Rome, where she’d learn from the best in the business. Jules was right. Maybe her dream would come true.

All she needed was to make sure this deal was a success. One way or the other. And if Chef Massimo couldn’t participate then perhaps his grandson would do.

She eyed him up. “Your grandfather must have taught you all of his secrets in the kitchen.”

His body noticeably stiffened. “Yes, he did. How else would I keep the place running in his absence?”

She knew it was akin to poking a sleeping bear with a stick, but she had to confirm her suspicions before she altered her plans ever so slightly. “But do your dishes taste like your grandfather’s?”

“The customers don’t know the difference.” The indignity in his voice rumbled through the room. “Who do you think took the time to learn every tiny detail of my grandfather’s recipes? My grandfather insisted that if you were going to do something, you should learn to do it right. And there were no shortcuts in his kitchen.”

From the little she’d known of Massimo, she could easily believe this was true. During their phone conversations, he’d made it clear that he didn’t take shortcuts with his recipes or with training people. She’d have to start from the beginning. Normally, she’d have taken it as an insult, but coming from Massimo, she had the feeling that he only wanted the best for both of them and the television spotlight.

“Will you continue to run the restaurant alone?”

Dante ran a hand over his jaw. “Are you always this curious about strangers?”

She wasn’t about to back off. This information was important and she had learned almost everything she needed. “I’m just trying to make a little conversation. Is that so wrong?”

There was a look in his eyes that said he didn’t believe her. Still, he didn’t press the subject. Instead he surprised her by answering. “For the foreseeable future I will continue to run Massimo’s. I can’t predict the future.”

“I still wonder if you’re as good as your grandfather in the kitchen.”

“Wait here.” He jumped to his feet and strode out of the room.

Where in the world had he gone? She was tempted to follow, but she thought better of it. She’d already pushed her luck as far as she dared. But her new plan was definitely taking shape.

The only problem she envisioned was trying to keep her mind on the art of cooking and not on the hottie mentoring her. She knew jet lag was to blame for her distorted worries. A little uninterrupted sleep would have her thinking clearly.

This arrangement was far too important to ruin due to some sort of crush. She pursed her lips together. No matter how good he looked, she knew better than to let her heart rule her mind. She knew too well the agonizing pain of rejection and abandonment. She wouldn’t subject herself to that again. Not for anyone.

She pulled her shoulders back and clasped her hands in her lap. Time to put her plan in motion.

One way or the other.

CHAPTER THREE

HOW DARE SHE question his prowess in the kitchen?

Dante stared down at a plate of pasta alla gricia, one of his favorite dishes. The fine balance of cured pork and pecorino romano gave the pasta a unique, tangy flavor. It was a dish he never grew tired of eating.

He proceeded to divvy the food between two plates. After all, he didn’t need that much to eat at this late hour. As he arranged the plates, he wondered why he was going to such bother. What was so special about this golden-haired beauty? And why did he feel a compulsion to prove himself where she was concerned?

It wasn’t as if he was ever going to see Lizzie again. Without his grandfather around to hold up his end of the agreement, she’d be catching the next plane back to New York. Still, before she left, he needed to prove his point. He’d taken some of his grandfather’s recipes and put his own twist on them. And the patrons loved them. This meal was sure not to disappoint the most discerning palate.

He strode back into the dining room and placed a plate in front of Lizzie. She gazed up at him with a wide-eyed blue gaze. Her mouth gaped as though she were about to say something, but no words came out.

He stared at her lush lips, painted with a shimmery pink frost. They looked perfectly ripe for a kiss. The urge grew stronger with each passing second. The breath hitched in his throat.

“This looks delicious.” She was staring at him, not the food. And she was smiling.

“It’s an old family recipe.” He nearly tripped over his own feet as he moved to the other side of the table. “The secret to the dish is to keep it simple and not be tempted to add extras. You don’t want to detract from the flavor of the meat and cheese.”

He couldn’t believe he was letting her good looks and charms get to him. It wasn’t as if she was the first beautiful woman he’d entertained. But she was the first that he truly wanted to impress. Safely in his seat, he noticed the smallness of the table. If he wasn’t careful, his legs would brush against hers. If this were a casual date, he’d take advantage of the coziness, but Lizzie was different from the usual women he dated. She was more serious. More intent. And she seemed to have only one thing on her mind—business.

“Aren’t you going to try it?” Dante motioned to the food. Just because he wasn’t interested in helping her with her dreams of stardom didn’t mean he couldn’t prove his point—he could create magic in the kitchen.

He watched as she spun the pasta on her fork and slipped it in her mouth. He sat there captivated, waiting for her reaction. When she moaned her approval, his blood pressure spiked and his grip tightened on the fork.

“This is very good. Did you make it?”

Her question didn’t fool him. He knew what she was digging at—she wanted him to step up and fill in for his grandfather. Him on television—never. That was his grandfather’s dream—not his.

“It’s delicious.” She flashed him a big smile, seemingly unfazed by his tight-lipped expression.

Her smile gave him a strange feeling in his chest that shoved him off center. And that wasn’t good. He didn’t want to be vulnerable to a woman. He knew for a fact that romance would ultimately lead to disaster—one way or the other.

He forced himself to eat because he hadn’t had time to since that morning and his body must be starved. But he didn’t really have an appetite. In fact, the food tasted like cardboard. Thankfully Lizzie seemed impressed with it.

When she’d cleaned her plate, she pushed it aside. “Thank you. I can’t wait for you to teach me how to make it.”

Dante still had a couple of bites left on his plate when he set his fork down and moved the plate aside. “That isn’t going to happen.”

“Maybe you should at least consider it.”

Her gaze strayed to the contract that was still sitting in the middle of the table and then back to him. What was she implying? That she’d drag him through the courts?

That was the last thing he needed. He already had enough important issues on his mind, including fixing his relationship with his family. And the closer it got to putting his signature on the sale papers, the more unsettled he’d become about his decision.

“You can’t expect me to fulfill my grandfather’s agreement.”

“Why not?” She smiled as though it would melt his resistance. Maybe under different circumstances it would have worked, but not now.

“Because I don’t want to be on television. I didn’t like it when those camera people were here before. All they did was get in the way and create a circus of onlookers wanting to get their faces on television.”

He didn’t bother to mention that he was just days away from closing a deal to sell Ristorante Massimo. But it all hinged on those family recipes. And somehow parting with those felt treasonous. His grandfather had signed the entire business over to him to do as he pleased, but still he couldn’t make this caliber of decision on his own.

But how did he approach his grandfather? How did he tell him that he felt restless again and without Massimo in the kitchen, it just wasn’t the same? It was time he moved on to find something that pacified the uneasiness in him.

He’d been toying with the thought of returning to the vineyard and working alongside his father and brother. After all of this time, perhaps he and his father could call a truce—perhaps Dante could in some small way try to make up for the loss and unhappiness his father had endured in the years since Dante’s mother had died. But was that even possible considering their strained relationship?

“It isn’t me you have to worry about.” Lizzie’s voice drew him back to the here and now. She toyed with the cloth napkin. “The television people will want to enforce the contract. They’re already advertising the segment on their station. I saw it before I left New York. Granted, we won’t have a show of our own. But we will have a daily spot on the most popular show on their station.”

He’d forgotten that there was a third party to this agreement. A television conglomerate would not be easily deterred from enforcing their rights. “But what makes you think that they would want me instead of my grandfather?”

“I take it your grandfather truly didn’t mention any of this to you?”

Dante shook his head. A sick feeling churned in the pit of his stomach.

“That’s strange. When he brought your name up to the television people, I thought for sure he’d discussed it with you.” She shrugged. “Anyway, they are eager to have you included in the segments. They think you’ll appeal to the younger viewers.”

Dante leaned his head back and expelled a weary sigh. Why hadn’t his grandfather mentioned any of this to him? Maybe Massimo just never got the chance. Regardless, this situation was going from bad to worse. What was next?

When Dante didn’t say anything, Lizzie continued, “I’m sure when I explain to them about your grandfather no longer being able to fulfill his role, they will welcome a young, handsome replacement.”

She thought he was handsome? He sat up a little straighter. “And if I don’t agree—”

“From what I read, there are monetary penalties for not fulfilling the contract. I’m not an attorney but you might want to have someone take a look at it.”

A court battle would only extend the time it would take to sell the ristorante. Not to mention scare off his potential buyer—the one with deep pockets and an interest in keeping Ristorante Massimo as is.

Dante’s gaze moved to the document. “Do you mind if I keep these papers for a little while?”

“That’s fine. It’s a copy.”

“I’ll get back to you on this.” He got to his feet. He had a lot to think over. It was time to call it a night.

“You’ll have to decide soon, as the film crew will be here in a couple of days.”

His back teeth ground together. Talk about finding everything out at the last minute. No matter his decision, resolving this issue would take some time. Agreeing to the filming would be much quicker than a court suit. And in the end, would he win the lawsuit?

But then again, could he work with Lizzie for two months and ignore the way her smile made his pulse race? Or the way her eyes drew him in? What could he say? He was a red-hot Italian man who appreciated women. But nothing about Lizzie hinted at her being open to a casual, gratifying experience. And he was not about to get tangled up in something that involved his heart. Nothing could convince him to risk it—not after the carnage he’d witnessed. No way.

* * *

He was attracted to her.

Lizzie secretly reveled in the knowledge. Not that either of them would act on it. She’d noticed how he kept his distance, but his eyes betrayed him. She wondered if his demeanor had cooled because of the television show. Or was there something more? Her gaze slipped to his hands, not spying any rings. Still, that didn’t mean there wasn’t a significant other.

Realizing the implication of what she was doing, she jerked her gaze upward. But that wasn’t any better as she ended up staring into his bottomless eyes. Her heart thudded against her ribs. This was not good. Not good at all.

She glanced down at the gleaming black-and-white floor tiles. She could still feel him staring at her. With great effort, she ignored him. Her trip to Rome was meant to be a learning experience, not to partake in a holiday romance.

Putting herself out there and getting involved with Dante was foolish. She had the scars on her heart to prove that romance could come with a high price tag. Besides, she was certain she wouldn’t live up to his expectations—she never did.

It was much easier to wear a smile and keep people at arm’s length. It was safer. And that was exactly how she planned to handle this situation.

Dante cleared his throat. “Well, since you’re a couple of days early, I’m sure you’ll want to tour the city. There’s lots to see and experience.” He led her to the front door. “Make sure you visit the Colosseum and the catacombs.”

“I’m looking forward to sightseeing. This is my first trip to Italy. Actually, it’s my first trip anywhere.” She pressed her lips together to keep from spilling details of her pitiful life. She didn’t want his sympathy. She was just so excited about this once-in-a-lifetime experience. Years ago in those foster homes, she never would have imagined that a trip like this would be a possibility—let alone a reality.

“I’d start with the Vatican Museums.”

“Thanks. I will.”

He smiled as he pulled open the door. The tired lines on his face smoothed and his eyes warmed. She was struck by how truly handsome he was when he let his guard down. She’d have to be careful and not fall for this mysterious Italian.

She glanced out into the dark night. “Is this the way to the apartment?”

His brow puckered. “Excuse me.”

“The apartment. Massimo told me that he had a place for me to stay?”

“He did?” Dante uttered the words as though they were part of his thought process and not a question for her.

She nodded and reached into her purse. She fumbled around until her fingers stumbled across some folded papers. Her fingers clasped them and pulled them out.

“I have the email correspondence.” She held out the evidence. “It’s all right here.”

Dante waved away the pages. “Are you this prepared for everything?”

She nodded. She’d learned a long time ago that people rarely keep their word. Just like her mother, who’d promised she’d do whatever it took to get Lizzie back from social services. In the beginning, Lizzie had gone to bed each night crying for the only parent she’d ever known—the mother who was big on neglect and sparing on kindness. At the time, Lizzie hadn’t known any other way. In the end, that mother-daughter reunion was not to be. Her mother had been all talk and no follow-through, unable to move past the drugs and alcohol. Lizzie languished in the system.

She’d grown up knowing one simple truth: people rarely lived up to their word. There was only one person to count on—herself.

However, in Massimo’s case, breaking his word was totally understandable. It was beyond his control. Her heart squeezed when she thought of that outgoing man being forced into retirement. She truly hoped while she was here that she’d get the opportunity to meet him and thank him for having such faith in her. It was as though he could see through her brave front to her quivering insides. During moments of doubt, he’d calmed her and assured her that all would be fine with the television segments.

She glanced at Dante. He definitely wasn’t a calming force like his grandfather. If anything, Dante’s presence filled her with nervous energy.

He leaned against the door. “There’s no apartment available.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “Does everything with you have to be a struggle?”

“I’m not trying to be difficult. I simply don’t have any place for you to stay.”

“Why is it your grandfather seemed confident that I would be comfortable here?”

“Probably because there was a remodeled apartment available, but since I wasn’t privy to your arrangement with my grandfather, I just leased it. But I’m sure you won’t have a problem finding a hotel room nearby.”

Oh, yes, there would be a big problem. She didn’t have money to rent a hotel room. She could only imagine how expensive that would be and she needed every penny to pay down her debts and to pay tuition for Jules’s grad school. Every penny from the contract was already accounted for. There was nothing to spare.

“It was agreed that I would have free room and board.” Pride dictated that she keep it to herself that she didn’t have the money to get a hotel room.

He crossed his arms and stared at her as though debating his options. “What do you want me to do? Give you my bed?”

The words sparked a rush of tempting images to dance through her mind. Dante leaning in and pressing his very tempting lips to hers. His long, lean fingers grazing her cheek before resting against the beating pulse in her throat. Her leaning into him as he swept her up in his arms.

“Lizzie, are you okay?” Dante’s eyes filled with concern.

She swallowed hard, realizing that she’d let her imagination get the best of her. “Umm, yes. I’m just a little jet-lagged. And things were busy tonight, keeping me on my toes.”

His eyes probed her. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

She nodded.

Where in the world had those distracting images of Dante come from? It wasn’t as though she was looking for a boyfriend. The last man in her life had believed they should each have their own space until one day he dropped by to let her know that he was moving to California to chase his dream of acting. No I’ll miss you. Or Will you come with me?

He’d tossed her aside like the old worn-out couch and the back issues of his rocker magazines. He hadn’t wanted her except for a little fun here and there. She’d foolishly let herself believe that they were building something special. In the end, she hadn’t been enough for him—she always came up lacking.

“I’d really like to get some rest.” And some distance from Dante so she could think clearly. “It’s been a long evening and my feet are killing me.”

Was that a hint of color rising in his cheeks? Did he feel bad about putting her to work? Maybe he should, but she honestly didn’t mind. She liked meeting some of the people she’d hopefully be cooking for in the near future. That was if she ever convinced Dante that this arrangement could work.

“Putting you to work was a total mix-up. My apologies.” He glanced down at the floor. “I owe you.”

“Apology accepted.” She loved that he had manners. “Now, does this mean you’ll find me a bed?”

CHAPTER FOUR

THE QUESTION CONJURED up all sorts of scintillating scenarios.

Dante squelched his overactive, overeager imagination. Something told him that there was a whole lot more to this beautiful woman than her desire to be on television and to brush up on her skills in the kitchen. He saw in her eyes a guardedness. He recognized the look because it was something he’d witnessed with his older brother after his young wife had tragically died. It was a look one got when life had double-crossed them.

Lizzie had traveled to the other side of the globe from her home without knowing a single soul, and from the determined set of her mouth, she wasn’t about to turn tail and run. She was willing to stand her ground. And he couldn’t help but admire her strength.

He just hoped his gut feeling about this woman wasn’t off target. What he had in mind was a bold move. But his grandfather, who’d always been a good judge of character, liked her. He surely wouldn’t have gone out of his way for her if he hadn’t. But that didn’t mean Dante should trust her completely, especially when it came to his grandfather.

Nonno had enough on his plate. Since he’d been struck down by a stroke, he’d been lost in a sea of self-pity. Dante was getting desperate to snap his grandfather back into the world of the living. And plying the man with problems when Nonno was already down wouldn’t help anyone.

“Have you told me everything now? About your agreement with my grandfather.”

She nodded.

“You promise? No more surprises?”

“Cross my heart.” Her finger slowly crossed her chest.

Dante cleared his throat as he forced his gaze upward to meet her eyes. “I suppose I do have a place for you to stay.”

“Lead the way.”

With the main doors locked, he moved next to her on the sidewalk. “It’s right over here.”

He led the way to a plain red door alongside the restaurant. With a key card, the door buzzed and he pulled it open for her. Inside was a small but lush lobby with an elevator and a door leading to steps. He’d made sure to give the building a face-lift when his grandfather handed over the reins to him. That was all it took to draw in eager candidates to rent the one available unit that he’d been occupying until he’d moved into his grandfather’s much larger apartment.

“Where are we going?” She glanced around at the new furnishings adorning the lobby.

“There are apartments over the ristorante.”

A look of dawning glinted in her eyes. “Your grandfather mentioned those. It’s where he intended for me to stay while I am here. Are they nice?”

“Quite nice.” In fact the renovations on his apartment had just been completed.

As the elevator doors slid open, she paused and turned to him. “But I thought you said that you leased the last one.”

“Do you want to see what I have in mind or not?”

She nodded before stepping inside the elevator.

Good. Because he certainly wasn’t going to bend over backward to make her happy. In fact, if she walked away now of her own accord, so much the better. As it was, this arrangement would be only temporary. He’d pacify her until he spoke to his solicitor.

In the cozy confines of the elevator, the faint scent of her floral perfume wrapped around him and teased his senses. If she were anyone else, he’d comment on its intoxicating scent. It was so tempting to lean closer and draw the perfume deeper into his lungs. But he resisted. Something about her led him to believe that she’d want more than one night—more than he was capable of offering her.

The thought of letting go and falling in love made his gut tighten and his palms grow damp. He’d witnessed firsthand the power of love and it wasn’t all sappy ballads and roses. Love had the strength to crush a person, leaving them broken and angry at the world.

He placed a key in the pad, turned it and pressed the penthouse button. The hum of the elevator was the only sound. In no time at all the door swished open, revealing a red-carpeted hallway. He led her to his door, adorned with gold emblems that read PH-1.

Dante unlocked the door and waved for her to go ahead of him. He couldn’t help but watch her face. She definitely wouldn’t make much of a poker player as her emotions filtered across her face. Her blue eyes opened wide as she took in the pillar posts that supported the open floor plan for the living room and kitchen area.

He’d had walls torn down in order to create this spacious area. He may enjoy city life but the country boy in him didn’t like to feel completely hemmed in. He’d paid the men bonuses to turn the renovations around quickly. Though it didn’t come close in size to his family’s home at the vineyard, the apartment was still large—large enough for two people to coexist without stepping on each other’s toes. At least for one night.

She walked farther into the room. She paused next to the black leather couch and turned to him. “Do you live here alone?”

“I do. My grandfather used to live here. When he got sick, he turned it over to me. I made some changes and had everything updated.”

“It certainly is spacious. I think I’d get lost in a place this size.” Her stiff posture said that she was as uncomfortable as he felt.

He wasn’t used to having company. He’d been so busy since his grandfather’s sudden exit from the ristorante—from his life—that he didn’t have time for a social life. In fact, now that he thought about it, Lizzie was the first woman he’d had in here. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that fact.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked, trying to ease the mounting discomfort.

“Yes—you can tell me what I’m doing here.”

Oh, yes. He thought it was obvious but apparently it wasn’t to her. “You can stay here tonight until we can get this whole situation cleared up.”

“You mean when you consent to the contents of this contract.”

His jaw tightened, holding back a string of heated words.

“Don’t look like it’s the end of the world.” Lizzie stepped up to him. “With your good looks, the camera is going to love you. And that’s not to mention the thousands of women watching the segment. Who knows, maybe you’ll become a star.”

Dante laughed. Him a star. Never. Her lush lips lifted. The simple expression made her eyes sparkle like blue topaz. Her pale face filled with color. And her lips, they were plump and just right to lean in and snag a sweet taste. His head started to lower when she pulled back as though reading his errant thoughts.

He cleared his throat and moved to the kitchenette to retrieve a glass. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?”

“I’m fine. Have you lived here long?”

He ran the water until it was cold—real cold. What he really needed to do was dump it over his head and shock some sense back into himself.

“I’ve lived in this building since I moved to Rome. I had a smaller apartment on another floor before moving to this one. You’re my first guest here.” He turned, waiting to hear more about what she thought of the place. “What do you think of it?”

He was genuinely curious about her take on the place. It was modeled in black-and-white decor. With the two colors, it made decorating easier for him. He sensed that it still needed something, but he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly was missing.

“It’s...it’s nice.” Her tone was hesitant.

Nice? The muscles in his neck tightened. Who said “nice”? Someone who was trying to be polite when they really didn’t like something but they didn’t want to hurt the other person’s feelings.

She leaned back on the couch and straightened her legs. She lifted her arms over her head and stretched. He tried to ignore how her blouse rode up and exposed a hint of her creamy skin. But it was too late. His thoughts strayed in the wrong direction again. At this rate, he’d need a very cold shower.

He turned his attention back to the apartment and glanced around, trying to see it from her perspective. Everything was new. There wasn’t a speck of dust—his cleaning lady had just been there. And he made sure to always pick up after himself. There wasn’t a stray sock to be had anywhere.

“Is it the black-and-white decor you don’t like?” He really wanted to know. Maybe her answer would shed some light on why he felt something was off about the place.

“I told you, I like it.”

“But describing it as nice is what people say to be polite. I want to know what’s missing.” There, he’d said it. There was something missing and it was going to drive him crazy until he figured it out.

He looked around at the white walls. The modern artwork. The two pieces of sculpture. One of a stallion rearing up. The other of a gentle mare. They reminded him of home. When he turned around, he noticed Lizzie unzipping her boots and easing them off. Her pink-painted toes stretched and then pointed as though she were a ballerina as she worked out all of the muscles. When she murmured her pleasure at being free of the boots, he thought he was going to lose it. It took every bit of willpower to remain in his spot and not go to her.

He turned his back. He tried to think of something to do. Something to keep him from going to her. But there was nothing that needed straightening up. No dirty dishes in the sink. In fact, he spent very little time here. For the most part, he slept here and that was it. The rest of his time was spent either downstairs in the ristorante or at the vineyard, checking on his grandfather.

“You know what’s missing?” Her voice drew his attention.

He turned around and tried to ignore the way her short black skirt had ridden even higher on her thighs. “What would that be?”

“There are no pictures. I thought there’d be one of you with your grandfather.”

Dante glanced around, realizing she was right. He didn’t have a single picture of anyone. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any pictures here. They are all at my family’s home.”

“Do they live far from here?”

He shrugged. “It’s a bit of a drive. But not that far. I like to go home on the weekends.”

“But isn’t the restaurant open?”

“It’s open Saturday. But then we’re closed Sunday and Monday. So my weekend is not the traditional weekend.”

“I see. And your grandfather, is he with your family?”

Dante nodded. “He lives with my father and older brother.”

Her brows drew together but she didn’t say anything. He couldn’t help but be curious about her thoughts. Everything about this woman poked at his curiosity.

“What are you wondering?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Go ahead. Say what’s on your mind.”

“You mentioned a lot of men. Are there no women?”

“Afraid not. Unless you count my aunts, but they don’t live there even though they are around so much that it feels like they do.” He didn’t want to offer a detailed explanation of why there were no women living at the vineyard. He tried to avoid that subject at all costs. He took it for granted that the DeFiore men were to grow old alone. But that was a subject best left for another day.

“Sounds like you have a big family.”

“That’s the understatement of the century.” Anxious to end this line of conversation, he said, “We should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be here before we know it.”

“You’re sure you want me to stay here?” She stared directly at him.

Their gazes connected and held. Beyond the beauty of her eyes, there was something more that drew him to her—a vulnerability. In that moment, he longed to ride to her rescue and sweep her into his arms. He’d hold her close and kiss away her worries.

Lizzie glanced away, breaking the special moment.

Was she thinking the same thing as him? Did she feel the pull of attraction, too? Not that he was going to act on his thoughts. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t keep himself in check. He could and would be a gentleman.

“I’ll deal with it. After all, you said this is what my grandfather agreed to. There are a couple of guest rooms down the hallway.” He pointed to the right. And then for good measure he added, “And the master suite is in that direction.” His hand gestured to the left. “Plenty of room for both of us.”

“My luggage hasn’t arrived yet. I have nothing to sleep in.”

“I can loan you something.”

Just as he said that, there was a buzz from the intercom. He went to answer it. In seconds, he returned to her. “Well, you don’t have to worry. Your luggage has arrived.”

She smiled. “That’s great.”

A moment of disappointment coursed through him. What in the world was the matter with him? Why should he care one way or the other if she slept in one of his shirts or not? Obviously he was more tired than he’d thought.

CHAPTER FIVE

LIZZIE GRINNED AND STRETCHED, like a cat that had spent the afternoon napping in the sunshine. She glanced around the unfamiliar surroundings, noticing the sun’s rays creeping past the white sheers over the window. She rubbed her eyes and then fumbled for her cell phone. She was shocked to find that she’d slept away half of the morning. It was going to take her a bit to get her internal alarm clock reset.

Last night, she’d been so tired that she’d barely gotten off a text message to Jules to assure her that she’d arrived safely before sleep claimed her. This was the first time in their lives that they’d been separated for an extended period and Lizzie already missed her foster sister, who was also her best friend. She had promised to call today to fill her in on her trip. But after converting the time, Lizzie realized it was too early in New York to call.

She glanced around, not surprised to find the room done up in black and white. The man may be drop-dead gorgeous but when it came to decorating, he definitely lacked imaginative skills. What this place needed was some warmth—a woman’s touch.

She thought back to his comment about her being his first guest here. She found that surprising. For some reason, she imagined someone as sexy and charming as him having a woman on each arm. Perhaps there was more to this man than his smooth talk and devastating smile. What was the real Dante like? Laid-back and flirtatious? Serious and a workaholic?

She paused and listened for any sounds from him. But then again, with an apartment this big, she doubted she’d hear him in the kitchen. She’d be willing to bet that her entire New York apartment could fit in this bedroom. She’d never been in such a spacious home before. Not that she’d have time to get used to it. She was pretty certain that Dante was only mollifying her. Today he would have a plan to get her out of his life and his restaurant.

With that thought in mind, Lizzie sprang out of bed and rushed into the glass block shower enclosure with more water jets than she’d ever imagined were possible. But instead of enjoying the shower, she wondered what Dante’s next move would be concerning the agreement.

Almost thirty minutes later, her straight blond hair was smoothed back into the normal ponytail that she wore due to its ease at pinning it up in the kitchen. She slipped on a dark pair of designer jeans. Lizzie didn’t recognize the name, but the lady at the secondhand store had assured her that they were the in thing right now.

Lizzie pulled on a white tiny tee with sparkly silver bling on the front in the shape of a smiley face. It was fun, and today she figured she just might need something uplifting. There were decisions to be made.

After she stepped into a pair of black cotton shoes, she soundlessly made her way to the living room, finding it deserted. Where could Dante be? She recalled their conversation last night and she was certain that he’d said the restaurant was closed today.

“Dante?” Nothing. “Dante?” she called out, louder this time.

Suddenly he was standing in the hallway that led to the master suite. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Have you been up long?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid that my body is still on New York time.”

“I’ve spoken to my grandfather.”

Lizzie’s chest tightened. “What did he say?”

Dante paused, making her anxiety even worse. She wanted to yell at him to spit it out. Did Massimo say something that was going to change how this whole scenario played out?

“He didn’t say much. I’m getting ready to go see him.”

She waited, hoping Dante would extend an invitation. When he didn’t, she added, “How far did you say the vineyard is from here?”

He shrugged. “An hour or so out of the city.”

She glanced toward the elongated window. “It’s a beautiful day for a drive.”

He said nothing.

Why wasn’t he taking the hint? If she laid it on any thicker, she’d have to invite herself along. She resisted the urge to stamp her feet in frustration. Why wouldn’t he give in and offer her a ride? She’d already mentioned how much she enjoyed talking to his grandfather on the phone.

Maybe Dante just wasn’t good with hints, no matter how bold they were. Perhaps she should try another approach—a direct one.

“I’d like to meet your grandfather.”

Dante shook his head. “That isn’t going to happen.”

Oh, no. She wasn’t giving up that easily. “Why not? When we talked on the phone, he was very excited about my arrival.”

“Things have changed since then.” Dante walked over and grabbed his keys from the edge of the kitchen counter. “It just wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Did you even tell him that I was here?”

Dante’s gaze lowered. “In passing.”

He was leaving something out but what? “And did you discuss the contract?”

“No. He had a bad night and he was agitated this morning. I didn’t think him hearing about what has transpired since your arrival would help things.” He cursed under his breath and strode over to the door and grabbed his overnight bag.

He was leaving without her.

Disappointment washed over her. She just couldn’t shake her desire to meet the man who reminded her of what she imagined her grandfathers would have been like, if she’d ever met either of her own. But she couldn’t tell Dante that. He’d think she was a sentimental dreamer—and she couldn’t blame him.

How could she ever explain to someone who grew up in a big, caring family with parents and grandparents about the gaping hole in her heart? She’d forever been on the outside looking in. She knew all too well that families weren’t perfect. Her friends in school had dealt with a whole host of family dynamics, but they had a common element—love to bind them together, no matter what. And to have her very own family was what Lizzie had prayed for each night. And at Christmastime it had been the only thing she had ever asked for from Santa.

Instead of a mom and dad and grandparents, she was given Jules—her foster sister. And she loved her with all of her heart. She would do anything for her, including keeping her promise to help Jules reach for her dreams—no matter the price. Because of their dismal finances, Jules had to put off college for a couple of years until Lizzie got her degree. Jules always talked of helping other kids like them. This was Jules’s chance to become a social worker and make a difference, but in order to do that she had to get through grad school first.

Massimo had been insistent that her plan would work. He’d been so certain. And she couldn’t shake her desire to meet him and thank him for his encouragement. “Take me with you. I promise I won’t say or do anything to upset your grandfather.”

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