The Playboy of Rome

by Jennifer Faye

  The stiffness in her shoulders eased. “But I didn’t make you dinner so that you could teach me. I...I wanted... Oh, never mind.”

  She clammed up quickly. What had she been about to say? He really wanted to know. Was she going to say that she’d made him dinner because she liked him? Did she want to continue what they’d started earlier that day?

  No. She wouldn’t want that...would she? He had to resolve the uncertainty. The not knowing would taunt him to utter distraction. And if they were going to work together, he had to know where they stood.

  He cleared his throat. “What is it you wanted?”

  “I just wanted to prepare you a nice dinner as a thank-you for what you did by introducing me to your family. And...and I wanted to show you that you wouldn’t be making a mistake by taking me on to work here. But obviously I was wrong.”

  “No, you weren’t.”

  “Yes, I was. You made it clear you don’t care for my cooking.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not it. I think you’re a good cook.”

  “So then why did you say those things?”

  “Because good is fine for most people, but you aren’t most people.”

  Her fine brows drew together. “What does that mean? Do you know about my past? Did your grandfather tell you?”

  Whoa! That had him sitting up straight. “Nonno didn’t tell me anything.” But Dante couldn’t let it end there. He wanted to believe that he was being cautious because of the business but it was more than that. He wanted to know everything there was about her. “I’m willing to listen, if you’re willing to tell me.”

  Her blue eyes were a turbulent sea of emotions. “You don’t want to hear about me.”

  “Yes, I do.” The conviction in his voice took him by surprise.

  She worried her lip as though considering what to tell him. “I don’t know. I’ve already told you enough. I don’t need to give you more reason to look at me differently.”

  Now he had to know. “I promise I won’t do that.”

  “You might try, but it’ll definitely color the way you see me.” She leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms.

  He wanted her to trust him although he knew that he hadn’t given her any reason to do so. But this was important. On top of it all, if he understood her better, maybe he’d have an easier time communicating with her when they were working together. He knew he was kidding himself. His interest in her went much deeper than employer and employee.

  “Trust me, Lizzie.”

  He could see the conflicted look in her eyes. She obviously wasn’t used to opening up to people—except his grandfather. Nonno had a way with people that put them at ease. Dante was more like his father when it came to personal relationships—he had to work to find the right words. Sure, he could flirt with the women, but when it came down to meaningful talks, the DeFiore men failed.

  But this was about Lizzie, not himself. And he didn’t want to fail her. More than anything, he wanted her to let him in.

  * * *

  Should she trust him?

  Lizzie studied Dante’s handsome face. Her brain said that she’d already told him more than enough, but her heart pleaded with her to trust him. But to what end? It wasn’t as if she was going to build a life here in Rome. Her life—her home—was thousands of miles away in New York.

  But maybe she’d stumbled across something.

  Whatever she told him would stay here in Rome. So what did it matter if she told him more about her past? It wasn’t as if it was a secret anyway. Plenty of people knew her story—and plenty of those people had used it as a yardstick to judge her. Would Dante be different?

  With every fiber of her being she wanted to believe that he would be. But she’d never know unless she said the words—words that made her feel as though she was less than everyone else. Admitting to her past made her feel as though she wasn’t worthy of love.

  She took a deep breath. “Before my mother died, I was placed in foster care.”

  Dante sat there looking at her as though he were still waiting for her big revelation.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “I heard that you grew up in a foster home, but I don’t know why you would think that would make me look at you differently.”

  Seriously? This was so not the reaction she was expecting. Growing up, she’d learned to keep this information to herself. When the parents of her school friends had learned that she came from a foster home, they’d clucked their tongues and shaken their heads. Then suddenly her friends had no time for her. And once she’d overheard a parent say to another, “You can never be too careful. Who knows about those foster kids. I don’t want her having a bad influence on my kid.”

  The memory made the backs of Lizzie’s eyes sting. She’d already felt unwanted by her mother, who’d tossed her away as though she hadn’t mattered. And then to know that people looked down on her, it hurt—a lot. But Lizzie refused to let it destroy her. Instead, she insisted on showing them that they were wrong—that she would make something of herself.

  “You don’t understand what it’s like to grow up as a foster kid. Trust me. You had it so good.”

  Dante glanced away. “You don’t know that.”

  “Are you serious? You have an amazing family. You know where you come from and who your parents are.”

  “It may look good from the outside, but you have no idea what it’s like to live in that house and never be able to measure up.” He got to his feet and strode over to the window.

  “Maybe your family expected things from you because they knew you were capable of great things. In my case, no one expected anything from me but trouble.”

  “Why would they think that?”

  “Don’t you get it? My parents tossed me away like yesterday’s news. If the two people in the world who were supposed to love me the most didn’t want me, it could only mean there’s something wrong with me—something unworthy.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “You don’t know what it was like to be looked at like you are less than a person.”

  In three long, quick strides Dante was beside her. He sat down next to her and draped his arm around her. Needing to feel his strength and comfort, she lowered her head to his broad shoulder. The lid creaked open on the box of memories that she’d kept locked away for so many years.

  Once again she was that little girl with the hand-me-down jeans with patches on the knees and the pant legs that were two inches too short. And the socks that rarely matched—she’d never forget those. She’d been incessantly taunted and teased about them.

  But no longer.

  Her clothes may not come from high-class shops, but they were of designer quality and gently worn so that no one knew that they were used—no one but Jules. But her foster sister was never one to judge. Probably because Jules never went for the sophisticated styles—Jules marched to a different drummer in fashion and makeup.

  “I...I never had any friendships that lasted, except Jules. We had similar backgrounds and we leaned on each other through thick and thin.”

  “I’m so glad she was there for you. If I had been there I’d have told those people what was up.”

  Lizzie gave a little smile. “I can imagine you doing that, too.”

  “I don’t understand why people have to be so mean.”

  She swallowed down the lump in her throat. “You can’t imagine how awful it was. At least when I was little, I didn’t know what the looks and snide little comments by the mothers were about, but as I got older, I learned.”

  Dante’s jaw tightened and a muscle in his cheek twitched. “Unbelievable.”

  “The kids were even meaner. If you didn’t have the right clothes, and I never did, you’d be picked on and called names. And the right hairstyle, you had to have the latest trend. And my poker-straight hair would never cooperate. It seemed one way or another I constantly failed to fit in.”

  “I think they were all just jealous. How could they not be? You’re gorgeous.�
��

  His compliment was like a balm on her old wounds. Did he really mean it? She gazed deep into his eyes and saw sincerity, which stole her breath away. Dante thought she was gorgeous. A warmth started in her chest and worked its way up her neck and settled in her cheeks.

  “It’s a shame they missed getting to know what a great person you are. And how caring you are.”

  She lifted her head and looked at him squarely in the eyes. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  “No, I’m not.” His breath brushed against her cheek, tickling it. “You’re special.”

  She moved just a little so that she was face-to-face with him. She wanted to look into his eyes once more. She wanted to know without a doubt that he believed what he was saying. But what she found in his dark gaze sent her heart racing. Sincerity and desire reflected in his eyes.

  He pulled her closer until her curves were pressed up against his hard planes. She knew this place. Logic said she should pull away. But the pounding of her heart drowned out any common sense. The only recognizable thought in her head was that she wanted him—all of him, and it didn’t matter at that moment what happened tomorrow.

  His gaze dipped to her lips. The breath caught in his throat. Her eyelids fluttered closed and then he was there pressing his mouth to hers. Her hands crept over his sturdy shoulders. Her fingertips raked through his short strands.

  She followed his gently probing kisses until her mounting desire drove her to become more assertive. As she deepened their kiss, a moan sounded from him. She reveled in the ability to rouse his interest. Sure, she’d attracted a few men in the past, but none had gotten her heart to pound like it was doing now. She wondered if Dante could hear it. Did he know what amazing things he was doing to her body?

  Did he know how much she wanted him?

  The knowledge that she was willing to give herself to him just for the asking startled her back to reality. She pulled back. She wanted Dante too much. It was too dangerous. And after being a foster kid, she liked to play things safe—at least where her heart was concerned. She’d been burned far too many times.

  “What’s wrong?” Dante tried to pull her back to him.

  She’d been here before, putting her heart on the line. Only then, she’d been a kid wanting to have a best friend and thinking that all would be fine. Then the parents had stepped in and she was rejected.

  She remembered the agonizing pain of losing friend after friend. She’d promised herself that she’d never let herself be that vulnerable again. Not for anyone. Not even for this most remarkable man.

  She struggled to slow her breathing and then uttered, “We can’t do this. It isn’t right.”

  “It sure felt right to me.” He sent her a dreamy smile that made her heart flip-flop.

  “Dante, don’t. I’m being serious.”

  “And so am I. What’s wrong with having a little fun?”

  “It’s more than that. It’s... Oh, I don’t know.” Her insides were a ball of conflicting emotions.

  “Relax. I won’t push you for something you don’t want to do.”

  The problem was that she did want him. She wanted him more than she’d wanted anyone in her life. But it couldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it. It would end in heartbreak—her heartbreak.

  Dante placed a thumb beneath her chin and tilted it up until their gazes met. “Don’t look so sad.”

  “I’m not.” Then feeling a moment of panic over how easy it’d be to give in to these new feelings, she backed away from him. “You don’t even know me. Why are you being so nice?”

  “Seriously. Are you really going to play that card?” He smiled and shook his head in disbelief. “You aren’t that much of a mystery.”

  She crossed her arms, not sure how comfortable she was with him thinking that he knew so much about her. “And what do you think you know about me?”

  “I know that you like to put on a tough exterior to keep people at arm’s length, but deep down you are sweet and thoughtful. I saw you with my family and especially Massimo. You listened to him and you didn’t rush him when he had problems pronouncing some words. You made him feel like he had something important to say—like he was still a contributing member of the family.”

  “I’m glad to hear that my visit helped. I wish I could go back.”

  “You can...if you stay here.”

  What? Had she heard him correctly? He wanted her to stay? She didn’t understand what was happening here. Not too long ago she’d been the one pushing for this arrangement to work and he was the one resisting the arrangement. Now suddenly he wanted her to stay. What was she missing?

  “Why?” She searched his face, trying to gain a glimmer of insight.

  “Why not?”

  “That’s not an answer. Why did you suddenly have this change of heart?”

  He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I’ve had a chance to think it over. And I think that we can help each other.”

  “Are you saying this because I told you about my background? Is this some sort of sympathy?”

  “No.” The response came quickly—too quickly. “Why would you say that?”

  She shrugged. “Why not? It’s the only reason I can see for you to want this arrangement to work. Or is there something I don’t know?”

  There was a look in his eyes. Was it surprise? Had she stumbled across something?

  “Tell me, Dante. Otherwise, I’m outta here. If you can’t be honest with me, we can’t work together.” And she meant it. Somehow, someway she’d scrape together the money for Jules to go to grad school, to reach her dreams and to be able to help other unfortunate children.

  He exhaled a frustrated sigh. “I talked with my solicitor before dinner.”

  When he paused, she prompted him. “And.”

  “He said that we could break the contract but it wouldn’t be quick or cheap.”

  Her gut was telling her that there was more to this than he was telling her. “What else?”

  Dante rubbed the back of his neck. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re pushy?”

  “I am when I have to be—when I can tell that I’m not being given the whole truth.”

  “Well, that’s it. My solicitor advised me that it would be easier to go through with your project. And he mentioned that in the end it would benefit the ristorante and bring in more tourist traffic.”

  So that was it. He was looking at his bottom line. She couldn’t fault him for that because technically she was doing the same thing. She was looking forward to the money she earned to help her foster sister. But she just couldn’t shake the memories of the past.

  “And you’re sure this has nothing to do with what I told you about my past.”

  “I swear. Now will you stay?”

  She didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure how this would work now that they’d kissed twice and were sharing an apartment, regardless of its spaciousness. When she glanced into Dante’s eyes, the fluttering feeling churned in her stomach. And when her gaze slipped down to his lips, she was tempted to steal another kiss.

  “What’s the matter?” Dante asked, arching his brow. “Are you worried about us being roommates?”

  “How did you know?”

  The corner of his tempting mouth lifted in a knowing smile. “Because you aren’t the only one wondering about that question. But before you let that chase you off, remember the reason you came here—to learn. To hone your cooking skills.”

  “But I can’t do that if you and I are...you know...”

  “How about I make you a promise that I won’t kiss you again...until you ask me. I will be the perfect host and teacher— Well, okay, the teaching might be a bit rough at first but I will try my best.”

  She looked deep into his eyes, finding sincerity. Her gut said to trust him. But it was these new feelings that she didn’t trust. Still, this was her only viable option to hold up her promise to Jules, who’d helped her through school and pushed her
to reach for her dreams. How could she do any less in return?

  With a bit of hesitancy, she stuck out her hand. “You have a deal.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  WHAT EXACTLY HAD he gotten himself into?

  The sun was flirting with the horizon as Dante yawned and entered the kitchen of Ristorante Massimo. The film crew was quite timely. Dante stood off to the side, watching the bustle of activity as a large pot of caffé brewed. The large kitchen instantly shrank as the camera crew, makeup artist and director took over the area. In no time, spotless countertops were covered with equipment, cases and papers. The place no longer looked like the kitchen his grandfather had taught him to cook in—the large room that held some of his happiest memories.

  Dante inwardly groaned and stepped out of the way of a young assistant wheeling in another camera. So much for the peace and tranquillity that he always enjoyed at this time of the day. He slipped into the office to enjoy his coffee.

  “Hey, what are you doing in here?” Lizzie’s voice called out from behind him.

  He turned to find her lingering in the doorway. The smile on her face lit up her eyes. She practically glowed. Was it the television cameras that brought out this side of her? The thought saddened him. He wished that he could evoke such happiness in her. But it was best that they’d settled things and agreed that from now on she was hands off for him.

  “I’m just staying out of the way. Is all of that stuff necessary?”

  “There’s not much. You should see what they have in the studio.”

  “I don’t remember all of those things when they filmed here before.”

  She shrugged. “Are you ready for this?”

  He wasn’t. He really didn’t want to be a television star, but he’d given his word and he wouldn’t go back on that—he wouldn’t disappoint Lizzie. She’d been disappointed too many times in her life.

  “Yes, I am. We need to get this done before the employees show up to get everything started for the lunch crowd. What do we need to do first?”

  “You need makeup.”