“What?” He shook his head and waved off the idea. “I don’t think so.”
His thoughts filled with images of some lady applying black eyeliner and lipstick to him. His nose turned up at the idea. No way. Wasn’t happening. Not in his lifetime.
“Is it really that bad?” Lizzie’s sweet laugh grated on his taut nerves.
“I agreed to teach you to cook in front of the cameras, but I never agreed to eyeliner.”
Lizzie stepped closer. “What? You don’t think you need a little cover stick and maybe a little blush.”
His gaze narrowed on her as she stopped right in front of him. The amusement danced in her eyes. He truly believed, next to her visit with his grandfather, this was the happiest he’d seen her. He didn’t want it to end, but he had to draw a line when it came to makeup.
“I’m not doing it. And you can keep smiling at me, but it isn’t going to change my mind.”
Her fingertip stroked along his jaw. “Mmm, nice. Someone just shaved.”
Yes, he had. Twice. “That doesn’t have anything to do with makeup.”
Her light touch did the craziest things to his pulse. And was that the sweet scent of her perfume? Or was it the lingering trace of her shampoo? He inhaled deeper. Whatever it was, he could definitely get used to it.
Her fingertip moved to his bottom lip, which triggered nerve endings that shot straight through to his core. Her every touch was agonizing as he struggled not to pull her close and replace her finger with her lips. But he’d once again given his word to be on his best behavior.
He caught her arm and pulled it away from his mouth. “You might want to stop doing that or I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”
Her baby blues opened wide and her pink frosty lips formed an O.
She withdrew her arm and stepped back. He regretted putting an end to her fun as she seemed to regress back into her shell. He wished she’d let that side of her personality out more often. But obviously he’d have to get a better grip on himself so that next time he didn’t chase her away.
She was so beautiful. So amazing. So very tempting. And he’d been the biggest fool in the world to promise to be a gentleman. But he had no one to blame for this agonizing torture except himself.
* * *
“You need to loosen up. Act natural.”
Lizzie glanced up at the director, thinking he was talking to Dante. After all, she’d done this sort of thing before—acting in front of the cameras. But instead of the young guy giving Dante a pointed look, the man was staring directly at her. Her chest tightened.
“I...I am.”
The man shook his head and turned to his cameraman to say something.
Dante moved to her side. “What’s the matter, Lizzie? Where’s the woman who just a little bit ago was teasing me about makeup?”
She refused to let him get the best of her. “Speaking of which, I see that you’re wearing some. Looks good. Except you might want a little more eyeliner.”
“What?” He grabbed a stainless-steel pot and held it up so he could see his reflection. His dark brows drew together. “I’m not wearing eyeliner.”
She smiled.
“That’s what I want.” The director’s voice drew her attention. “I want that spark and easy interaction on the camera.”
Lizzie inwardly groaned. The man didn’t know what he was asking of her. She chanced a glance at Dante as he returned the pot to a shelf. She wasn’t the only one who’d reverted back behind a wall. He had been keeping his distance around her, too. She wondered if he regretted their kissing? Or was it something deeper? Did it have something to do with the reason Dante lived all alone in that spacious apartment that was far too big for just one person?
“Okay, let’s try this shot again.”
Lizzie took her position at the counter, trying her best to act relaxed and forget about the camera facing her. But as Dante began his lines and moved around her, showing her how to prepare the pasta alla gricia, she could smell his spicy aftershave. It’d be so easy to give in to her desires. But where would that leave her? Brokenhearted and alone. Her muscles stiffened.
“Cut.” The director walked up to her. “I don’t understand. We’ve worked together before and you did wonderfully. What’s the problem now?”
The problem was Dante looked irresistibly sexy in his pressed white jacket. She swallowed hard. As she took a deep calming breath, she recalled his fresh, soapy scent. Mmm...he smelled divine. What was she supposed to do? When he got close enough to assist her with the food prep, she panicked— worried she’d end up caring about him. That she’d end up falling for him. And that just couldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it.
“Nothing is wrong.” She hoped her voice sounded more assured than she felt at the moment. “I’ll do better.”
The director frowned at her. “Maybe you should take a break. We’ll shoot the next segment with just Dante.”
Lizzie felt like a kid in school that had just gotten a stern warning from the principal before being dismissed to go contemplate her actions. Keeping her gaze straight ahead and well away from Dante, she headed for the coffeepot, where she filled up a cup. After a couple of dashes of sugar and topping it off with cream, she headed for the office. It was her only refuge from prying eyes.
She resisted the urge to close the door. She didn’t need them speculating that she’d dissolved into a puddle of tears. It would take a lot more than messing up a shot to start the waterworks.
More than anything, she was frustrated. She grabbed for her cell phone, wanting to hear Jules’s voice. Her foster sister always had a way of talking her off ledges. But just as she was about to press the last digit, she realized that with the time difference, Jules would still be sound asleep.
Lizzie slid the phone back in her pocket. What was she going to do now? Dante was totally showing her up in there. The thought did not sit well with her at all.
Since when did she let a man get to her? She could be a professional. She wasn’t some teenager with a crush. She was a grown woman with responsibilities. It was time she started acting that way before this whole spotlight series went up in flames.
“Are you all right?” Dante’s voice came from behind her.
“I’m fine. Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Because you haven’t been acting like yourself.” Concern reflected in his eyes. “Tell me what’s bothering you. I’ll help if I can.”
“Don’t do that.”
His forehead wrinkled. “What?”
“Act like we’re something we’re not.” If he continued to treat her this way, her resolve would crack. And she didn’t want to rely on him. She knew what would happen then. He’d pull back just like her ex had done. Men were only into women for an uncomplicated good time.
And she was anything but uncomplicated.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dante’s voice took on a deeper tone. “All I wanted to do was help.” He held up his hands innocently. “But I can tell when I’m not wanted.”
He stormed back out the door.
Good. Not that she was happy that he was upset. But she could deal with his agitation much easier than she could his niceness. Each kind word he spoke to her was one more chip at the wall she’d carefully built over the years to protect herself. And she wasn’t ready to take it down for him or anyone.
At last, feeling as though she had her head screwed on straight, she returned to the kitchen. The director looked at her as though studying her. “You ready?”
She nodded. “Yes, I am.”
The director had them take their places as Lizzie sensed Dante’s agitation and distance. She was sorry that it had to be this way, but she could at last think straight. And when the director called a halt to the filming, it was Dante who fouled up the shot. They redid it a few times until the director was satisfied.
This arrangement may have been her idea, but at the time she hadn’t a clue how hard it was going to b
e to work so closely with Dante. Still, she had to do this. She didn’t have a choice. There were bills to meet and grad school to pay.
She just had to pretend that Dante was no one special. But was that possible in the long run? How was she supposed to ignore these growing feelings when she found Dante fascinating in every way?
She was in trouble. Deep trouble.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
NOT TOO BAD.
Lizzie stifled a yawn as she poured herself a cup of coffee. Thankfully it was late Friday night and the restaurant was at last closed. She was relieved that there was no filming in the morning. Those early wake-up calls were wearing her down. The next morning the crew was off to shoot some footage of Rome to pad their spotlights. And she couldn’t be happier.
Lizzie pressed a cup of stale coffee to her lips.
“You might not want to drink that.”
She turned at the sound of Dante’s voice. “Why not?”
“That stuff is strong enough to strip paint off Red. You’ll never get to sleep if you drink it.”
She held back a laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
Dante raised a questioning brow before he turned back to finish cleaning the grill. He really was a hands-on kinda guy. She didn’t know why that should surprise her. He’d never once sloughed off his work onto his staff. Everyone had their assigned duties and they all seemed to work in harmony.
Dante had been remarkable when it came to the filming, too. He may grump and growl like an old bear about things like makeup, but when the cameras started to roll, he really came through for her—for them. Maybe he hadn’t nailed every scene but he’d been trying and that was what counted. And if she didn’t know better, she’d swear he’d been enjoying himself in front of the cameras.
It was amazing how long it took to shoot a short segment to splice into the station’s number-one-rated cooking show. But it was so worth it. What a plum spot they’d been given. It’d definitely make her credentials stand out from the competition when she returned to New York and searched for a chef position at one of the upscale restaurants in Manhattan.
She took the cup of coffee to the office and cleared off a spot at the end of the couch. No sooner had she gotten comfortable than Dante sauntered into the room.
“See, you should have taken me up on my offer to take the afternoon off.” He sent her an I told you so look.
She shrugged. “I wanted to get a feel for how everything works around here.”
“And now you’re exhausted.”
“Listen to who’s talking. You worked just as many hours as I did.”
“But I’m used to it.”
Now, that did surprise her. What was a young, incredibly sexy man doing spending all of his time at the restaurant? Surely he must have an active social life away from this place. The image of him dressed in a sharp suit filled her mind. And then a beautiful slip of a woman infiltrated her thoughts. The mystery woman sauntered over and draped herself on his arm. Lizzie’s body tensed.
“Is something the matter?”
She glanced up at Dante. “What?”
“You were frowning. Is it the caffé? I told you not to drink it.”
Not about to tell him her true thoughts, she said, “Yes, it’s cold. I’ll just dump it out and head upstairs. Are you coming?”
He glanced around at the messy office. “I should probably do a little work in here.”
She stifled a laugh. This place needed a lot more than a “little” help. “Have you ever thought of hiring someone to sort through all of these old papers?”
“I don’t think there’s a person alive that would willingly take on this challenge. My grandfather was not much of a businessman. He did the bare minimum. And I’m afraid that I’m not much better. I’d rather be in the kitchen or talking with the patrons.”
She could easily believe that of him and his grandfather. They were both very social people, unlike her. She could hold her own in social scenes but her preference was the anonymity of a kitchen or office.
“Well, don’t stay up too late.” She headed for the door. “We wouldn’t want you having bags under your eyes for the camera.”
“Is there an in-between with you?”
She turned. “What do you mean?”
“You are either very serious or joking around. Is there ever a middle ground?”
She’d never really thought that much about it. “Of course. See, I’m not making any jokes now.”
“And you’re also being serious. You’re wondering if I’m right.”
Her lips pursed together. Did Dante see something that she’d been missing all along? And was he right?
He stepped closer. “If you control the conversation then nothing slips out—those little pieces of your life that let a person really know you. You can then keep everyone at a safe distance.”
Her gaze narrowed in on him. “Since when have you become such an expert on me?”
“I’m good at reading people. And you intrigue me.”
Any other time she might have enjoyed the fact that she intrigued a man but not now. Not when he could see aspects of her that made her uncomfortable.
“Are you trying to tell me that you’re a mind reader—no, wait, maybe a fortune-teller? I can see you now with a colorful turban, staring into a glass ball.” She forced a smile, hoping to lighten the conversation.
“And there you go with the jokes. My point is proven.”
He was right. Drat. She’d never thought about how she’d learned to shield herself from other people. When conversations got too close, too personal, she turned them around with a joke. Anything to get the spotlight off herself.
After all this time of putting up defensive postures, she didn’t know if she could let down those protective walls and just be—especially around a man who could make her heart race with just a look. But something within her wanted things to be different with Dante. It was lonely always pushing people away.
“I’m just me.” She didn’t know how to be anyone else. “I’m sorry if that doesn’t live up to your idea of the perfect woman.”
He stepped closer to her. It’d be so easy to reach out to him—to lean into his arms and forget about the world for just a moment. Every fiber of her body wanted to throw herself into his arms and feel his lips against hers.
“Lizzie, you don’t have to be perfect.” His voice was soft and comforting. “You just have to be honest with yourself and realize that not everyone is out to hurt you. I won’t hurt you.”
Hearing those last four words was like having a bucket of ice water dumped over her head. Her ex had said the same thing to her to get her into bed. But when opportunity came knocking on his door, she was relegated to nothing more than an afterthought. He couldn’t wait to leave New York—to leave her. The realization of how little he’d cared for her cut deep.
She wasn’t going to fall for those words again.
She stepped back out of Dante’s reach.
His dark gaze stared straight at her as though searching for answers to his unspoken questions.
When his gaze dipped to her lips, the breath hitched in her throat. What was he going to do? He’d promised not to kiss her until she asked him to. Would he keep that promise?
Factions warred within her. One wanted to remain safe. The other part wanted to sweep caution aside and lean into his arms. Was it possible that being safe wasn’t always the best choice? Was a chance at happiness worth the inherent risks?
Dante cleared his throat. “You better go upstairs now.” His voice was deeper than normal and rumbled with emotion. “If you don’t, I might end up breaking my word. And a DeFiore never goes back on his word.”
She turned on legs that felt like rubber and headed for the door. The warm night air did nothing to soothe her heated emotions. She needed a shower to relax her or she’d never get any sleep tonight. And Dante was worried the coffee would be stimulating. It was nothing compared to his presence.
It was
on the elevator ride upstairs that she realized if he had reached out to her, she wouldn’t have resisted. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. He didn’t have to say the words. It was all there in his eyes. The need. The want. The desire.
Sleep was not something that was going to come easily that night.
* * *
What was wrong with him?
Dante got up from the desk in his study and strode to the window. The lights from the city obscured the stars, but he knew they were there, just like he knew there was something growing between him and Lizzie. He couldn’t touch it. He couldn’t see it. But there was definitely something real growing between them.
She’d appeared in his life out of nowhere. At every turn, she challenged everything he believed he wanted in life. But above and beyond all of that, she brought the “fun factor” back to his life. He enjoyed sharing the kitchen with her. He even went to bed each night anticipating the next morning. What was it about Lizzie that had him feeling things that he’d never experienced before?
Images of her curled up in bed just down the hall from him had him prowling around his study instead of sleeping. The only good news was that there was no filming tomorrow. But it wasn’t as if they had the next day off. It was Saturday, the busiest day of the week for the ristorante. The responsible side of him told him to go to bed this second or he’d pay for it in the morning. But he didn’t relish the idea of lying there in the dark while images of the alluring woman who now shared his apartment teased and danced through his mind.
He clenched his hands as a groan rose in his throat. Pacing around his study was not doing him a bit of good. At least if he went and lay down, his body would get some much-needed rest. If he was lucky, maybe sleep would finally claim him. But first he needed a drink.
In nothing but his boxers, he quietly padded to the darkened kitchen. When he rounded the corner, the door of the fridge swung open and he stopped in his tracks, thoroughly captivated with the sight before him.
Lizzie bent over to rummage through the contents of the fridge. A pair of peach lacy shorts rode up over her shapely thighs and backside. He swallowed hard, unable to pry his eyes away from her.
The Playboy of Rome Page 11
