Lily loved the energy necessary to prepare the day’s menu… The delicate sauces for the various pasta dishes. The exquisite desserts that resembled a visual work of art.
Food—watching her parents select the best quality, prepare, cook and present it—formed her earliest memories, developing her own creativity with the need to explore, experiment, study at home and abroad, in a bid to perfect her expertise in the art of cuisine.
Osso buco was next up, and Lily plated up, added spinach and pine nuts drizzled with olive oil, together with toasted ciabatta.
Any time soon the orders for mains would dwindle, and be replaced by dessert orders, followed by coffee. By mid-afternoon she’d be able to toss her apron in the laundry bin and finish for the day.
Just as she was about to do so she heard Giovanni call her name, and she turned as he moved to her side.
‘Cristo has a family emergency. Can you work his shift this evening?’
She didn’t hesitate. ‘No problem.’
Together they went through the dinner menu, Cristo’s work was re-assigned, and Lily checked the large pantry and cold room.
Busy didn’t cover it as the restaurant began to fill with evening clientele, and deft speed became essential as the wait-staff presented order after order for the kitchen staff to fill.
The need to work well together became paramount, and Lily did what she did best, worked under pressure by focusing on what needed to be done.
There were a few moments of light relief as Hannah’s sense of humour came to the fore.
‘Canadian on table five isn’t happy with his steak.’ She achieved an impressive eye-roll. ‘Medium rare in Canada is not what we served him. He wants the meat pink with a red-blood centre. No oozing blood, but close.’
A fussy customer needed to be a happy customer. ‘OK.’ Lily fired up the grill, cut a fresh beef fillet, seared, checked and plated it. ‘Good to go. With the chef’s compliments.’
Within minutes Hannah reappeared to collect another order. ‘Success. Although he would have preferred Canadian beef.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. I very politely explained the restaurant only bought the finest beef from a hill farm owned by a caring family whose stock was personally hand fed.’
Lily’s eyes gleamed as she tamped down the urge to laugh. ‘You didn’t.’
‘Uh-huh. He appeared impressed.’ Hannah collected the order and sailed back to the restaurant.
The pace was fast, and it was good to reach the late evening plateau where most of the customers had moved on from their main course and were content to linger over dessert and coffee.
It was almost the end of the evening shift when Giorgio, the maître d’, entered the kitchen and crossed to Lily’s side.
‘There is a gentleman who wishes to speak with you.’
She cast him a look of surprise. ‘Did he give you his name?’
‘James. Signor James.’
Her ex? Ex-fiancé, ex-friend…ex-everything?
James? Here in Milan, at this particular restaurant? You have to be joking?
Coincidence didn’t stretch that far.
While it wouldn’t have been difficult for him to connect her to Sophia, there was no way her aunt would divulge where Lily lived or worked. Yet somehow James had managed to find out, and for some reason, he’d decided to board a flight to Italy and force a personal confrontation.
Hell…the silent curse stuck in her throat.
Like she needed this?
Calm, she could do calm, and she offered Giorgio a wry look. ‘The man is an ex-fiancé and no longer a friend of mine.’
‘You do not want to speak with him?’
‘Please. If you don’t mind.’
Giorgio inclined his head, and Lily returned her attention to plating up an order, unaware the maître d’ slipped into the private office and made a phone call before returning to the front desk.
Hopefully James would accept the relayed words and leave.
Yet there was a certain degree of trepidation as she dispensed with her apron and bade the remaining kitchen staff goodnight.
Surely James wouldn’t wait for her?
Except there he was, standing at the edge of the pavement as she exited the restaurant, making it impossible for her to avoid him.
With long strides he moved towards her and attempted to take her hands in his own, swiftly she locked them together behind her back.
‘James,’ Lily acknowledged stiffly. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘To convince you, in person, that I made the biggest mistake of my life.’ He spread his hands in a helpless gesture. ‘Emails and phone calls weren’t achieving anything.’
What could she say that she hadn’t relayed verbally at the time, and later via email?
‘Our relationship was over the moment I walked into my home and discovered you in bed with another woman.’
‘It didn’t mean anything.’ He took a step closer. ‘I was a fool. Please give me a second chance,’ he implored with desperation. ‘I love you.’
She doubted he ever had.
‘We’ve done this. Let’s not do it again.’
‘Lily—’
‘Just…go, James.’
‘Lily, I’m begging you. Please.’
She didn’t see it coming and she should have, as he pulled her close and brought his mouth down on hers with a hungry force that stunned and sickened her as she fought to free herself.
With a deep-throated growl she kicked him hard and took advantage of his momentary surprise to wrench away from him.
‘Don’t touch me, you…imbecile.’ She wiped a hand over her mouth and glared at him in a manner that spoke volumes. ‘If you come near me again, I’ll have you arrested for harassment.’
‘You can’t be serious.’
‘Very.’ Succinct and vehement.
He went to reach for her again…and this time Lily was ready for him.
‘Don’t.’
‘I suggest you take Lily’s advice,’ a deep, slightly accented familiar voice drawled, and she swung around to face Alessandro leaning against his gleaming black car parked at the kerb.
How long had he been standing there?
Lily tilted her chin as she regarded his inscrutable features. ‘I can manage this.’
‘Of that I have no doubt,’ Alessandro concurred in a silky drawl that sent shivers scudding down her spine.
James, however, directed Alessandro a resentful glare. ‘This is between me and my fiancée and none of your business.’
‘Ex-fiancée,’ Lily corrected at once. ‘As of almost two months ago.’
‘We’re working at reconciling.’
‘There is no we,’ she assured with considerable force.
‘And no chance of a reconciliation…ever.’
Alessandro switched his attention to James. ‘A definite no, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘She doesn’t know what she wants,’ James declared in a dismissive tone, and failed to notice the tension edge up a notch.
‘It doesn’t appear to be you.’
‘Really?’ James spared him a hard look. ‘And you are?’
‘A friend.’
James turned to Lily and indicated a compact hire car. ‘I’ll follow you home, and we can talk in private.’
Alessandro searched Lily’s features. ‘Is that what you want?’
He reminded her of a panther, waiting, watchful, and dangerous.
‘No,’ she replied without hesitation, and saw him turn towards James.
‘I suggest you leave,’ he indicated silkily.
‘Or you’ll do what?’ James demanded trenchantly.
Alessandro didn’t move so much as a muscle. Yet only a fool would ignore the coiled strength apparent in his stance. ‘Ensure you never forget my name.’
James took in the expensive suit, the indisputable air of power, the luxury car and looked at Lily with bitter anger.
‘You owe me.’
James hands clenched into tight fists, and for a moment Lily thought he meant to launch a physical attack. Then without a further word he moved to his car, slid in behind the wheel, and drove off with a roar of the engine and fast-spinning wheels.
Lily took a moment before she turned to face the inimitable man who stood regarding her with masked interest.
‘You, of course, just happened to be passing by.’
‘I was in the neighborhood.’
She looked at him with a degree of scepticism. ‘You expect me to believe that?’
‘Does it matter?’
His scrutiny intensified when she didn’t answer, and her eyes widened as he cupped her chin and tilted her head.
Her mouth felt slightly numb from James’s onslaught, and without thought she soothed her swollen lower lip with the edge of her tongue.
Alessandro bit back a barely audible oath as he drew her close. She touched something deep inside him, a need for one special woman in his life. Family of his own, children. Love, the true abiding kind, from which he’d considered himself immune. Until now.
A faintly wry smile curved his generous mouth as she tucked her head into the curve of his shoulder and rested there for a few seemingly long minutes.
Unbidden, he slid a hand to her nape, then slowly smoothed it down her back.
She fitted so well, almost as if she was meant to be there, and he lowered his head to brush his lips to her temple, ignoring his instinct to put her in his car and take her home…to his home.
Not an option, yet. And he experienced a measure of regret as she stepped away from him.
Alessandro retrieved his wallet, extracted a card and handed it to her. ‘My cell-phone number. Any problems, call me. Understood?’
‘Thank you.’ Lily pocketed the card. ‘Goodnight, Alessandro.’
He trailed light fingers down her cheek. ‘Drive carefully.’
She inclined her head, and he watched as she crossed to her car, waiting until she disappeared from sight before easing away from the kerb.
To pass Lily’s apartment building in order to reach his own involved little effort on his part, and he swung by, relieved to see she was safely indoors, with no sign of her ex-fiancé’s hired car anywhere in sight.
A text message to Sophia on his arrival home would ease her concern following James’s enquiry as to Lily’s whereabouts. Giorgio’s awareness of the situation was an added benefit.
Lily spent a restless night as James’s pleading words and empty promises echoed in her mind. Not the least of which that he’d sought to lodge an appeal in person, given she had made in perfectly clear their relationship was dead and buried. How could he possibly imagine she might consider a reconciliation? Why would any woman in her right mind go ahead with a wedding on discovering her fiancé had been conducting a long-running affair behind her back?
Please.
Eventually she must have fallen asleep, for she woke as the dawn fingered through her bedroom shutters, and she rose, dressed, drank strong coffee, enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, then she made the call to reassure Sophia and soothe her aunt’s concern.
Alessandro in the guise of white knight wasn’t mentioned, while the need to change her cell-phone number to a private listing became paramount.
Effecting the change involved a personal application, form-filling, presentation of required documentation, but eventually she was given a new number. Something she fitted in before and after her lunch shift at the restaurant.
Her list of things to do completed, she arrived home, as she was beginning to regard the apartment, as the sun sat low in the sky, and just as she set her bag on the kitchen counter her cell-phone rang.
Sophia…had to be, as her aunt was the only person to whom she’d given her new number.
‘Lily, I’m so pleased I caught you. Alessandro requests you call him in connection with arrangements to dine with Giarda and Massimo tomorrow evening. I believe you have his cell-phone number?’
‘I do.’
‘Ciao, darling. Be careful.’
Of whom? Lily queried silently. James or Alessandro? A hollow laugh rose to the surface. Each man was equally dangerous. Just in a different way.
Purchases unpacked, she retrieved her cell-phone and Alessandro’s card, then she dialled his number.
He picked up on the fifth ring, his voice crisp as he intoned, ‘Del Marco.’
‘Lily,’ she reciprocated. ‘Sophia relayed a message for me to call you.’ She paused fractionally. ‘Is this a good time?’
‘If you count standing dripping wet and naked, having just stepped from the shower,’ Alessandro drawled.
There was a second’s silence. ‘I’ll call back.’ Then she cut the connection, and released the pent-up breath caused by a vivid vision of his tall muscular frame sans clothes. Dripping wet.
Not good for her heart rate. Or her equilibrium as heat pooled deep within causing provocative images she found unsettling. Very unsettling.
So go do something, Lily chided, and she withdrew the vacuum cleaner from a storage cupboard. Cleaning was good. After which she’d shower, dress in comfortable clothes, prepare dinner, then she’d call back.
An hour and a half went by before she picked up the phone and keyed in his number.
‘Lily.’
Alessandro acknowledged with a hint of amusement, and his mouth curved as she queried drily, ‘You’re not in the middle of anything?’
‘At the moment…no.’
‘You wanted to contact me,’ she prompted.
‘Before we continue, give me your new number.’
She did, and she checked each one as he repeated them.
‘I’ll collect you at seven thirty tomorrow evening. We’re meeting Giarda and Massimo at eight.’
‘I can meet you there.’
‘But you won’t.’ His voice assumed a depth that caused her stomach to execute a slow somersault. ‘How was your day?’
‘Busy.’
‘Very concise.’
‘You want detail? Cristo threw a hissy fit when his bechamel sauce curdled and he had to start over. The pan shifted on the gas hob and the flame burnt his finger. It was so not his day.’
‘James?’
‘I haven’t seen him.’
Alessandro hoped it remained that way. Although he doubted Lily’s ex-fiancé would give up easily.
‘I suggest you be on your guard.’
‘I can protect myself, Alessandro.’
Verbally, without doubt. But physically? Sophia’s concern for her niece’s safety had become his own. Instinct warned he had reason and he’d lived by instinct alone for too many years to consider ignoring it.
‘Seven thirty tomorrow evening, Lily,’ he reminded quietly.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DECIDING what she should wear to dinner involved a mental selection and discard process throughout the day.
There was a gorgeous jade silk chiffon gown with a fitted bodice and bias cut skirt that skimmed her slim curves, fashioned by a noted Australian designer, which she’d packed to bring to Milan, but had not as yet worn.
A matching wrap added a finishing touch, and with her hair pinned in an upswept style, minimum jewellery, killer heels…decision made.
It wasn’t a date, merely the first social engagement without Sophia’s presence, Lily assured herself as she put the final touches to her make-up.
She was ready with minutes to spare, and she caught up her evening purse and headed out to the lounge in time to hear the buzz of the in-house phone.
Alessandro. Yet caution had her checking the visual monitor before relaying she was on her way down.
A clutch of nerves rose in her stomach as the lift descended, and sh
e took a deep calming breath scant seconds before the steel doors opened onto the foyer.
This was just dinner. For four, not à deux.
So chill, smile and have a great time.
Yet she only had to look at him to know she was way out of her depth.
The chiselled facial features, the dark, almost black eyes, which saw much more than she wanted them to. As to his mouth…the memory of how it felt possessing her own was so vivid, she barely controlled a faint quiver.
Deal with it.
And she did, offering a generous smile as she moved to his side. ‘Hi.’ Too bright, too much?
‘Buona sera, Liliana.’
There it was again…Liliana. Did he know what it did to her?
‘Shall we go?’
How was it possible to look forward to sharing dinner with a man who turned her emotions every which way, when all she felt impelled to do was to retreat to safety?
It didn’t make sense.
‘You’re interested in restoring old buildings,’ Lily ventured as they purred through the streets. ‘Are you working on a project at the moment?’
‘Yes. There are various stipulations in place. Permissions to be granted, the submission and approval of plans. The legalities involved. All of which can become a long process.’
‘Bureaucracy and red tape while numerous sources confer, consult and compare,’ she lightly posed, and glimpsed his wry smile.
‘Occasionally for several months.’
‘I imagine patience is key.’
He spared her a glance. ‘You don’t consider me to be a patient man?’
Lily considered him carefully. ‘Perhaps,’ she conceded. ‘If you wanted something enough.’
The man seated at her side was capable of achieving whatever he wanted, by whatever means it took to gain his objective. For beneath the sophisticated exterior was a ruthlessness born from a need to survive at any cost.
A loyal friend, she perceived, but a dangerous adversary.
It didn’t help that she was incredibly aware of him, the primitive sensuality he generated with no seeming effort at all. He had the look of a man who knew everything there was to know about women, what they wanted, needed, and the skill to deliver—in bed, and out of it.
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