A Bride for the Italian Boss

by Susan Meier

  She stopped her thoughts. She had an almost fiancé at home, and Rafe wasn’t the most sympathetic man in the world. He was bold and gruff, and he accepted no less than total honesty.

  But maybe that’s what appealed to her? She didn’t want sympathy. She just wanted to talk to someone. To really be heard. To be understood.

  “I had a good childhood,” he said, breaking the awkward silence, again nudging his hand toward her.

  She didn’t take his hand, so he used it to inch her wine closer. She picked it up again.

  “Even as a boy, I was fascinated by cooking.”

  She laughed, wondering why the hell she was tempting fate by sitting here with him when she should leave. She might not be engaged but she was close enough. And though she’d love to kiss Rafe, to run her fingers through that wild hair, Paul was stability. And she needed stability.

  “My parents were initially put off, but because I also played soccer and roughhoused with my younger brother, they weren’t worried.”

  She laughed again. He’d stopped trying to take her hand. And he really did seem to want to talk. “You make your childhood sound wonderful.”

  He winced. “Not intentionally.”

  “You don’t have to worry about offending me. I don’t get jealous of others’ good lives. Once Rosa took me in, I had a good life.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “She was brave.”

  “Speaking from experience?”

  “Let’s just say I had a wild streak.”

  Looking at his hair, which curled haphazardly and made his gray eyes appear shiny and mysterious, Dani didn’t doubt he had lots of women who’d helped his wild streak along.

  Still, she ignored the potential to tease, to flirt, and said, “Rosa really was brave. I wasn’t so much of a handful because I got into trouble, but because I was lost.”

  “You seem a little lost now, too.”

  Drat. She hadn’t told him any of this for sympathy. She was just trying to keep the conversation innocent. “Seriously. You’re not going to feel sorry for me, are you?”

  “Not even a little bit. If you’re lost now, it’s your own doing. Something you need to fix yourself.”

  “That’s exactly what I believe!”

  He toasted. “To us. Two just slightly off-kilter people who make our own way.”

  She clinked her glass to his before taking another sip of wine. They finished their drinks in silence, which began to feel uncomfortable. If she were free, she probably would be flirting right now. But she wasn’t.

  Grabbing her jacket and purse, she rose from her seat. “I guess I should get going.”

  He rose, too. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Her heart kicked against her ribs. The vision of a good-night kiss formed in her brain. The knowledge that she’d be a cheat almost choked her. “There’s no reason.”

  “I know. I know. It’s a very peaceful little town. No reason to worry.” He smiled. “Still, I’ve never let a woman walk to her car alone after dark.”

  Because that made sense, she said, “Okay.” Side by side they ambled up the sidewalk to the old, battered green car Louisa had lent her.

  When they reached it, she turned to him with a smile. “Thank you for listening to me. I actually feel better.”

  “Thank you for talking to me. Though I don’t mind a little turmoil in the restaurant, I don’t want real trouble.”

  She smiled up at him, caught the gaze of his pretty gray eyes, and felt a connection that warmed her. She didn’t often tell anyone the story of her life, but he had really listened. Genuinely cared.

  “So you’re saying yelling is your way of creating the kind of chaos you want?”

  “You make me sound like a control freak.”

  “You are.”

  He laughed. “I know.”

  They gazed into each other’s eyes long enough for Dani’s heart to begin to thrum. Knowing they were now crossing a line, she tried to pull away, but couldn’t. Just when she was about to give one last shot at breaking their contact, he bent his head and kissed her.

  Heat swooshed through her on a wave of surprise. Her hands slid up his arms, feeling the strength of him, and met at the back of his neck, where rich, thick hair tickled her knuckles. When he coaxed open her mouth, the taste of wine greeted her, along with a thrill so strong it spiraled through her like a tornado. The urge to press herself against him trembled through her. She’d never felt anything so powerful, so wanton. She stepped closer, enjoying sensations so intense they stole her breath.

  His hands trailed from her shoulders, down her back to her bottom and that’s when everything became real. What was she doing kissing someone when she had a marriage proposal waiting for her in New York?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  NOTHING IN RAFE’S life had prepared him for the feeling of his lips against Dani’s. He told himself it was absurd for an experienced man to think one kiss different from another, but even as that thought floated to him, her lips moved, shifted, and need burst through him. She wasn’t a weak woman, his Dani. She was strong, vital, and she kissed like a woman starving for the touch of a man. The kind of touch he longed to give her. And the affair was back on the table.

  Suddenly, Dani jumped back, away from him. “You can’t kiss me.”

  The wildness in her eyes mirrored the roar of need careening through him. The dew of her mouth was sprinkled on his lips. His heart pounded out an unexpected tattoo, and desire spilled through his blood.

  He smiled, crossed his arms on his chest and leaned against the old car. “I think I just did.”

  “The point is you shouldn’t kiss me.”

  “Because we work together?” He glanced to the right. “Bah! You Americans and your puritanical rules.”

  “Oh, you hate rules? What about commitments? I’m engaged!”

  That stopped the need tumbling through him. That stopped the sweet swell of desire. That made him angry that she’d led him on, and feel stupid that he hadn’t even suspected that a woman as pretty and cheerful as his Dani would have someone special waiting at home.

  “I see.”

  She took three steps back, moving herself away from her own transportation. “I didn’t mean to lead you on.” She groaned and took another step back. “I didn’t think I was leading you on. We were talking like friends.”

  He shoved off the car. “We were.”

  “So why’d you kiss me?”

  He shrugged, as if totally unaffected, though a witch’s brew of emotions careered through him like a runaway roller coaster. “It felt right.” Everything about her felt right, which only annoyed him more.

  She took another step away from him. “Well, it was wrong.”

  “If you don’t stop your retreat, you’re going to end up back in the tavern.”

  She sucked in a breath.

  He opened her car door. “Get in. Go home. We’re fine. I don’t want you skittering around like some frightened mouse tomorrow. Let’s just pretend that little kiss never happened.”

  He waited, holding open the door for her until he realized she wouldn’t go anywhere near her car while he stood beside it. Anger punched up again. Still, keeping control, he moved away.

  She sighed with relief and slid into her car.

  He calmly started the walk to his condo, but when he got inside the private elevator he punched the closed door, not sure if he was angry with himself for kissing her or angry, really angry, that she was engaged. Taken.

  He told himself not to care. Were they to have an affair, it would have been short because she was leaving, returning to America.

  And even if she wasn’t, even if they’d been perfect for each other, he didn’t do relationships. He knew their cost. He knew he couldn’t pay it.

  When the elevator doors opened again, he stepped out and tossed his keys on a convenient table in the foyer of his totally remodeled condo on the top floor of one of Monte Calanetti’
s most beautiful pale stone buildings. The quiet closed in on him, but he ignored it. Sometimes the price a man paid for success was his soul. He put everything he had into his meals, his restaurant, his success. He’d almost let one woman steal his dream—he wouldn’t be so foolish as to even entertain the thought a second time.

  * * *

  The next day he worked his magic in the kitchen, confident his attraction to Dani had died with the words I’m engaged. He didn’t stand around on pins and needles awaiting her arrival. He didn’t think about her walking into the kitchen. He refused to wonder whether she’d be happy or angry. Or ponder the way he’d like to treat her to a full-course meal, watch the light in her eyes while she enjoyed the food he’d prepare especially for her...

  Damn it.

  What was he doing thinking about a woman who was engaged?

  He walked through the dining room, checking on the tables, opening the shutters on the big windows to reveal the striking view, not at all concerned that she was late, except for how it would impact his restaurant. So when the sound of her bubbly laugher entered the dining room, and his heart stopped, he almost cursed.

  Probably not seeing him in the back of the dining room, she teased with Allegra and Gio, a clear sign that the kiss hadn’t affected her as much as it had affected him. He remembered the way she’d spoken to him the night before. One minute she was sad, confiding, the next she would say something like, “You should stop that.” Putting him in his place. Telling him what to do. And he wondered, really, who had confided in whom the night before?

  Walking to the kitchen, he ran his hand along the back of his neck. Had he really told her about his family? Not that it was any great secret, but his practice was to remain aloof. Yet, somehow, wanting to comfort her had bridged that divide and he’d talked about things he normally kept out of relationships with women.

  As he approached a prep table, Emory waved a sheet of paper at him. “I’ve created the schedule for Daniella. I’m giving her two days off. Monday and Tuesday. Two days together, so she can sightsee.”

  His heart stuttered a bit, but he forced his brain to focus on work. “And just who will seat people on Monday and Tuesday?”

  “Allegra has been asking for more hours. I think she’ll be fine in the position as a stand-in until, as Daniella suggested, we hire two people to seat customers.”

  He ignored the comment about Daniella. “Allegra is willing to give up her tips?”

  “She’s happy with the hourly wage I suggested.”

  “Great. Fine. Wonderful. Maybe you should deal with staff from now on.”

  Emory laughed. “This was a one-time thing. A favor to Daniella. I’m a chef, too. I might play second to you, but I’m not a business manager. In fact, you’re the one who’s going to take this to Dani.”

  Ignoring the thump of his heart at having to talk to her, Rafe snatched the schedule sheet out of Emory’s hands and walked out of the kitchen, into the dining room.

  His gaze searched out Dani and when he found her, their eyes met. They’d shared a conversation. They’d shared a kiss. But she belonged to someone else. Any connection he felt to her stopped now.

  He broke the eye contact and headed for Allegra. “Emory tells me you’re interested in earning some extra money and you’re willing to be Dani’s fill-in.”

  Her eyes brightened. “Sì.”

  “Excellent. You will come in Monday and Tuesday for Dani, then.” He felt Dani’s gaze burning into him, felt his face redden with color like a schoolboy in the same room with his crush. Ridiculous.

  He sucked in a breath, pasted a professional smile on his face and walked over to Dani. He handed the sheet of paper to her. “You wanted a schedule. Here is your schedule.”

  Her blue eyes rose slowly to meet his. She said, “Thanks.”

  The blood in his veins slowed to a crawl. The noise in the dining room disappeared. Every nuance of their kiss flooded his memory. Along with profound disappointment that their first kiss would be their last.

  He fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut. Why was he thinking these things about a woman who was taken? All he’d wanted was an affair! Now that he knew they couldn’t have one, he should just move on.

  “You wanted time off. I am granting you time off.”

  He turned and walked away, satisfied that he sounded like his normal self. Because he was his normal self. No kiss...no woman would change him.

  Lunch service began. Within minutes, he was caught up in the business of supervising meal prep. As course after course was served, an unexpected thought came to Rafe. An acknowledgment of something Dani had said. He didn’t eat a multicourse lunch. He liked soup and salad. Was Dani right?

  * * *

  Dani worked her shift, struggling to ward off the tightness in her chest every time Rafe came out of the kitchen. Memories of his kiss flooded her. But the moment of pure pleasure had been darkened by the realization that she had a proposal at home...yet she’d kissed another man. And it had been a great kiss. The kind of kiss a woman loses herself in. The kind of kiss that could have swept her off her feet if she wasn’t already committed.

  She went home in between lunch and dinner and joined Louisa on a walk through the house as she mentally charted everything that needed to be repaired. The overwhelmed villa owner wasn’t quite ready to do an actual list. It was as if Louisa needed to get her bearings or begin acclimating to the reality of the property she owned before she could do anything more than clean.

  At five, Dani put on the black trousers and white blouse again and returned to the restaurant. The time went more smoothly than the lunch session, mostly because Rafe was too busy to come into the dining room, except when a customer specifically asked to speak with him. When she walked into the kitchen to get him, she kept their exchanges businesslike, and he complied, not straying into more personal chitchat. So when he asked for time with her at the end of the night again, she shivered.

  She didn’t think he intended to fire her. He’d just given her a schedule. He also wouldn’t kiss her again. He seemed to respect the fact that there was another man in the picture, even if she had sort of stretched the truth about being engaged. But that was for both of their benefits. She had a proposal waiting. Her life was confusing enough already. There was no point muddying the waters with a fling. No point in leading Rafe on.

  She had no idea why he wanted to talk to her, but she decided to be calm about it.

  When he walked out of the kitchen, he indicated that she should sit at the bar, while he grabbed a bottle of wine.

  After a sip, she smiled. “I like this one.”

  “So you are a fan of Chianti.”

  She looked at the wine in the glass, watched how the light wove through it. “I don’t know if I’m a fan. But it’s good.” She took a quiet breath and glanced over at him. “You wanted to talk with me?”

  “Today, I saw what you meant about lunch being too much food for some diners.”

  She turned on her seat, his reply easing her mind enough that she could be comfortable with him. “Really?”

  “Yes. We should have a lunch menu. We should offer the customary meals diners expect in Italy, but we should also accommodate those who want smaller lunches.”

  “So I made a suggestion that you’re going to use?”

  He caught her gaze. “You’re not a stupid woman, Dani. You know that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so bold in your comments about the restaurant.”

  She grinned. “I am educated.”

  He shook his head. “And you have instincts.” He picked up his wineglass. “I’d like you to work with me on the few selections we’ll add.”

  Her heart sped up. “Really?”

  “Yes. It was your suggestion. I believe you should have some say in the menu.”

  That made her laugh.

  “And what is funny about that?” His voice dripped with incredulity, as if he had no idea how to follow her sometimes. His hazy gray eyes narrowed in annoyanc
e.

  She sipped her wine, delaying her answer to torment him. He was always so in control that he was cute when he was baffled. And it was fun to see him try to wrangle himself around it.

  Finally she said, “You’re not the big, bad wolf you want everybody to believe.”

  His eyes narrowed a little more as he ran his thumb along his chin. His face was perfect. Sharp angles, clean lines, accented by silvery eyes and dark, dark hair that gave him a dramatic, almost mysterious look.

  “I don’t mind suggestions to make the business better. Ask Emory. He’s had a lot more say than you would think.”

  She smiled, not sure why he so desperately wanted to cling to his bossy image. “I still say you’re not so bad.”

  * * *

  Rafe’s blood heated. The urge to flirt with Dani, and then seduce her, roiled like the sea before a storm. He genuinely believed she was too innocent to realize he could take her comments about his work demeanor as flirting, and shift the conversation into something personal. But he also knew they couldn’t work together if she continued to be so free with him.

  “Be careful what you say, little Dani, and how you take our conversations. Because I am bad. I am not the gentleman you might be accustomed to. Though I respect your engagement, if you don’t, I’ll take that as permission to do whatever I want. You can’t have a fiancé at home and free rein to flirt here.”

  Her eyes widened. But he didn’t give her a chance to comment. He grabbed the pad and pencil he’d brought to the bar and said, “So what should we add to this lunch menu you want?”

  She licked her lips, took a slow breath as if shifting her thoughts to the task at hand and said, “Antipasto and minestrone soup. That’s obvious. But you could add a garden salad, club sandwich, turkey sandwich and hamburgers.” She slowly met his gaze. “That way you’re serving a need without going overboard.”

  With the exception of the hamburger, which made him wince, he agreed. “I can put my own spin on all of these, use the ingredients we already have on hand, redo the menu tonight and we’ll be ready to go tomorrow.”