The Playboy of Rome

by Jennifer Faye

  “Are they always so outgoing?” Lizzie asked Dante as they approached the car.

  “Guido and Luiso Caruso have known my family for years, and yes, they are always that friendly. Did you get enough to eat?”

  Lizzie gently patted her rounded stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

  Dante snapped his fingers. “I forgot to give them a message from my grandfather. I’ll be right back.”

  While Dante rushed back inside, Lizzie leaned against the car’s fender and lifted her face to the sun. Perhaps she was hungrier than she thought because now that she’d eaten, her mood was much lighter. And it’d helped that Dante had opened up to her about his family. No matter how little he cracked open the door to his past, every bit he shared meant a lot to her.

  But nothing could dislodge the memory of that earth-shattering kiss. It was always there, lurking around the edges of her mind. But the part that stung was how Dante had rejected her. And his reasoning did nothing to soothe her.

  Somehow she’d get past this crazy infatuation. Because in the end, he was right. They did have to work together over the next eight weeks. Not to mention that they shared an apartment—anything else, no matter how casual, would just complicate matters.

  “Ready to go?” Dante frowned as he noticed her leaning against the flawless paint job.

  “Yes, I am.”

  As he got closer, she noticed how he inspected where she’d been leaning, as if she’d dented the car or something. His hand smoothed across the paint.

  “Are you serious?” she asked incredulously.

  He turned to her, his face perfectly serious. “What?”

  He really didn’t get it. She smiled and shook her head. Men and their cars. “Nothing.”

  “If we get going we should be home in no time. There’s not much traffic. And the weather is perfect.” He repeatedly tossed the keys in the air.

  Lizzie moved in to catch them. “Let me drive.”

  “What? You’re joking, right?” He reached out to take the keys from her.

  She pulled her hand behind her back, which drew her blouse tight across her chest. His gaze dipped and lingered just a moment. When his gaze met hers again, she smiled.

  “Come on. You said yourself there is hardly any traffic.”

  And she’d love to drive an honest-to-goodness exclusive sports car, the kind that turned heads—both men and women, young and old. She may not be a car junkie, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate a fine vehicle. And this car was quite fine. Jules would never believe she’d gotten to drive such an amazing sports car.

  “I don’t think so.” The smile slipped from his face. “Can I have the keys so we can get going?”

  Enjoying having him at a disadvantage, she felt her smile broaden. She backed up a few steps. She was in the mood to have a little fun, hoping it’d get them back on track. “If you want them, you’ll have to come and get them.”

  He didn’t move. “This isn’t funny.” His tone grew quite insistent. “Hand over the keys.”

  Her good mood screeched to a halt. He wouldn’t even consider letting her behind the steering wheel. Did he really think so little of her that she couldn’t drive a car in a straight line?

  Hurt balled up in her gut. She dropped the keys in his outstretched hand and strode around the car. “I assume I’m still allowed to sit in the passenger seat.”

  “Hey, you don’t have to be like that. After all, I don’t let anyone drive Red.”

  Her head snapped around to face him. “You named your car?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  She shook her head, having no words to describe her amazement.

  “Besides, I’m sure that you’ll enjoy riding in the passenger seat more. You can take a nap or check out the passing scenery.”

  It hurt her how easily he brushed off her request as though she couldn’t possibly be serious about wanting to drive such a fine machine. All of her life people had never seen past her foster-kid status and used clothes. Even now as she sat on the butter-soft upholstery of a car that she would never be able to afford in her entire life, she was wearing hand-me-downs. But at least these clothes fit her and they didn’t look as though they’d seen a better day.

  She was tired of people underestimating her. She refused to sit by and take it. She would show Dante that she was just as capable as him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “I KEPT MY WORD.”

  The sound of Lizzie’s voice startled Dante.

  She’d resumed her quiet mode after he’d asked for the keys. He had no idea she was so intent on driving his car—his gem. She obviously didn’t know how precious it was to him and he didn’t know how to describe it to her. The fact that his father liked this car almost as much as Dante did meant the world to him. And the fact that he’d bought it all on his own had earned him some of his father’s respect. He couldn’t afford to lose that one small step.

  Dante unlocked the penthouse door. “You kept your word about what?”

  “The contract. I didn’t say a word while we were at the villa. But now that we’re back and the film crew will be here tomorrow at 6:00 a.m., I need to know if you’re on board with the whole thing.” Lizzie strode into the living room. She fished around in her purse, eventually producing her cell phone. Her gaze met his as her finger hovered over the touch screen.

  His curiosity was piqued. “Who are you planning to call?”

  “My contact at the studio.”

  “Did you already tell them about my grandfather not being able to fulfill his obligation?”

  She nodded. “I told them right away.”

  He kind of figured she would. “And what did they say?”

  He wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear the answer because Lizzie looked far too confident. What did she know that he didn’t?

  Lizzie perched on the arm of the couch. “They were sorry to hear about your grandfather.”

  “And?”

  “And when I mentioned that you’d taken over the restaurant, they were intrigued. They pulled up some old footage of you with your grandfather and they’re convinced transitioning the spotlight from your grandfather to you will work.”

  He should have known that eventually being on television even for a few seconds would come back to bite him. He just never expected this. Who would want him on television? He knew nothing of acting. And he wasn’t inclined to learn.

  “Lizzie, I haven’t agreed to this. Any of it.” And he didn’t want to either.

  “But what choice do you have at this point? If your attorney was going to uncover an easy out, he’d have told you by now.”

  Dante’s hands pressed down on the granite countertop. He wanted to argue with her. He wanted to point out that this idea didn’t have a chance to be a success. But even his solicitor wasn’t rushing in, promising that all would be fine. In fact, his solicitor had said quite the opposite. That trying to break the contract would cost him money and time.

  The television exposure would definitely give the ristorante added publicity and the asking price could easily be inflated. As it was, he’d been forced to lower the price to unload it quickly, but now there wouldn’t be a rush. He could ask for a more realistic price and perhaps someone else would step forward that would want the ristorante without buying the family recipes.

  Lizzie tossed her oversize purse on the couch. “Besides, if you help me out, I’ll help you out.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “If you agree to do the filming each morning before the restaurant opens, I can help you around Ristorante Massimo.”

  His brows rose. “You’re offering to work for me?”

  “Sure. What else do I have to do with my time?”

  There had to be a catch. There always was. Everybody wanted something. “And what are you expecting me to pay you?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “I’d just like a chance to do what I would have done
with your grandfather.”

  “And that was?”

  “To learn from him. He was planning to teach me as much as he could while I was in town. I came to Italy with the sole intent to work my butt off.”

  Dante eyed her up. “You really don’t want anything else but to learn?”

  “Why do you sound so skeptical?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not used to people offering me free help.”

  “I wouldn’t get used to it. Not everyone can afford to do it. But the studio is paying me to be here, and with you providing free room and board, it should all work out.”

  At last he found the rub. “You intend to continue to live here? With me?”

  “Is this your way of saying that you plan to kick me out?”

  “You have to admit that after what happened in the vineyard the idea of us living and working together isn’t a good one.”

  “Why? Are you saying that you want to repeat that kiss?” She moved forward, only stopping when she stood on the other side of the counter. “Are you wishing that you hadn’t stopped it?”

  His gaze dipped to her pink frosted lips. Oh, yes, he definitely wanted to continue that kiss. He wanted it to go on and on. “No. That’s not what I’m saying. Quit putting words in my mouth.”

  Her eyes flashed her disbelief. “I only call ’em like I see ’em.”

  “It has nothing to do with the kiss. I’d already forgotten about it.” No, he hadn’t. Not in the least. “It’s just...”

  “Just what?” Lines bracketed her icy blue eyes as she waited for his answer.

  “I just don’t know if you understand what will be expected from you.”

  “You mean you think I’m just another pretty face without anything between my ears.”

  “Hey, I didn’t say that. There you go again, making assumptions.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  “I have my way of doing things. And I expect you to pay attention to the details—no matter how small or meaningless you might find them.” He needed time alone to get his head on straight. There was a lot here to consider. “I’m going to my office. We’ll talk more later.”

  “Do you mind if I go downstairs and have a look around. I want to know what I’m getting myself into.”

  “Be my guest. Here’s the key.” He tossed her a key card and rattled off the security pass code.

  Her lips pressed into a firm line as she clutched the key card and turned for the door. He stood there in the kitchenette. He couldn’t turn away as his gaze was latched on the gentle sway of her hips as she strode away. His pulse raced and memories of holding her and tasting her sweet kisses clouded his mind. How had he ever found the willpower to let her go?

  The snick of the door closing snapped Dante back to the here and now. What was so different about her? He’d dated his share of women and none of them had gotten to him like her. But if there was any possibility of them working together and sharing this apartment, he needed to see her as just another coworker. Someone who couldn’t get under his skin and give him that overwhelming urge to scratch his itch. Because that would only lead them both into trouble as had already happened back at the vineyard.

  He should just show Lizzie the door and forget trying to fulfill his grandfather’s wishes. If he was logical, that was what he’d do. But when it came to family, nothing was logical.

  Combine that with the desperation he’d witnessed in Lizzie’s gaze, and he felt an overwhelming urge to find a way to make this work for both of them. But could he keep his hormones in check around her? Suddenly his apartment wasn’t looking so big after all.

  * * *

  She’d prove him wrong.

  Lizzie strode into the impressive kitchen of Ristorante Massimo. It was more spacious than it had appeared on television. And she immediately felt at home surrounded by the stainless-steel appliances. She just wished that Massimo would be there instead of his stubborn grandson.

  But she had a plan. She was going to prove to Dante that she was talented—that she could hold up her end of the agreement. She looked over the ingredients in the fridge and the freezer. Slowly a dinner menu took shape in her mind. She didn’t want it to be pasta as she didn’t want to compete in his arena. No, she would whip up something else.

  She set to work, anxious to prove to Dante that she belonged here in Massimo’s kitchen. She had the ability; she just needed to broaden her horizons with new culinary skills.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed when she heard a sound behind her. She turned and jumped when she saw Dante propping himself up in the doorway.

  “What are you doing there?” She set aside the masher she’d used to whip up the cauliflower.

  “I think I’m the one who should be asking you that question.”

  She glanced around at the mess she’d created. Okay, so she wasn’t the neatest person in the kitchen. But to be honest, she had seen worse. And she was in a hurry. She’d wanted it all to be completed before he arrived. So much for her plan.

  “I thought I’d put together dinner.”

  He walked closer. “And what’s on the menu?”

  She ran over and pressed a hand to his chest to stop him. The warmth from his body and the rhythm of his heart sent tingles shooting up her arm. Big mistake. But her heart wasn’t listening to her head. A bolt of awareness struck her and all she could think about was stepping a little closer. The breath caught in her throat as she looked up at his tempting lips.

  Memories of his caresses dominated her thoughts. She’d never been kissed like that before. It had meaning. It had depth. And it had left her longing for more. But this wasn’t the time or the place. She had to make a point with him. And caving in to her desires would not help her cause.

  She pulled her hand back. “I have a table all set in the dining room. Why don’t you go make yourself comfortable? The food will be in shortly.”

  He strained his neck, looking around. “Are you sure I shouldn’t stay and help?”

  She pressed her hands to her hips. “I’m positive. Go.”

  He hesitated and she started to wonder if he was going to trust her. But then he relented. And turned. When he exited the kitchen, she rushed to finish up with the things on the stove. She placed them in the oven to keep them warm.

  At last, it was time to start serving up the most important meal of her life. Since when had impressing Dante become more about what he thought of her and less about gaining the job? She consoled herself with the thought that it was just nerves. It wasn’t as if he was the first man to kiss her. Nor would he be the last.

  She pushed aside the jumbled thoughts as she moved to the refrigerator and removed the crab-and-avocado salad. She placed the dish on the tray, took off her apron and smoothed a hand over her hair, worrying that she must look a mess. Oh, well, it was too late to worry about it now.

  Then, realizing that she’d forgotten something for him to drink, she grabbed both a glass of chilled water and a bottle of DeFiore white wine she’d picked out to complement the meal.

  She carried the tray into the dining room and came to a stop when she noticed the lights had been dimmed and candles had been added to the table as well as some fresh greens and dahlias with hearty yellow centers and deep pink tips. The breath caught in her throat.

  The table was perfect. It looked as though it was ready for a romantic interlude. And then her gaze came to rest on Dante. He’d changed clothes. What? But why?

  She glanced down at the same clothes she’d worn all day that were now smudged with flour and sauce. She resisted the urge to race out of the room to grab a shower and to change into something that would make her feel sexy and alluring.

  She turned her attention to Dante, taking in his creased black slacks, a matching jacket and a gray button-up shirt. Wow. With his tanned features and his dark hair, he looked like a Hollywood star. She swallowed hard. She wondered if he’d remembered to put on a touch of cologne, too. The thought of moving close enough to check w
as oh, so tempting.

  She gave herself a mental jerk. She wasn’t here for a date. This was business. She couldn’t blow her chance to show him that she was quite competent in the kitchen. She would impress him this evening, but it would be through her culinary prowess and not through flirting or any of the other tempting thoughts that came readily to mind.

  “If you’ll have a seat, I’ll serve you.” She tried to act as though her heart wasn’t thumping against her ribs.

  He frowned. “But I want to get your chair for you.”

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “Aren’t you joining me?”

  She shook her head.

  “But you’ve got to be hungry, too.”

  She was but it wasn’t the food she’d slaved over for the past couple of hours that had her salivating. “I’m fine.”

  “Oh, come on. You surely don’t think that I’ll enjoy this meal with you rushing around waiting on me. Now sit.”

  What was up with him? She eyed him up as she sat in the chair he’d pulled out for her. Was he having a change of heart about teaching her what he knew—in the kitchen, that was?

  “I only brought out enough food for one.”

  “Not a problem.” Before she could utter a word, he moved to the kitchen.

  This wasn’t right. This was not how she’d planned to prove to Dante that she was up to the task of working in Ristorante Massimo. Frustration collided with the girlie part of her that was thrilled to be pampered. It was a totally new experience for her. But it also left her feeling off-kilter. Was she supposed to read something into his actions? The clothes? The flowers and candles? Did any of it have anything to do with their kiss?

  When he returned, she gazed at him in the glow of the candle. The words caught in her throat as she realized this was her first candlelit dinner. Romance had never been part of her other relationships. She could definitely get used to this and to Dante—