by Dani Wade
“We said all we have to say, Draco. One night. Remember?”
“Vividly. Do you remember too, cara mia? Would you like me to repeat just which were my favorite parts—I’m sure the reporter sitting in the car just behind me would be keen for all the details.”
Reporter? Blair peered past Draco’s dark form. There was a car pulled right up to the curb. She caught a brief glimpse of the reporter’s camera through the open window. The thought of the headlines in tomorrow’s gossip pages was enough to get her to open the door and usher Draco inside immediately, not quickly enough to completely avoid the sudden flash of white light as the reporter took their picture.
“Why on earth did you bring that reporter here?” Blair demanded, her hands fisted on her hips to avoid using them for any other purpose.
“You’re mistaken. I did not bring him. He was already waiting here, much as there have been reporters stationed outside my apartment and following my driver from pillar to post since early Monday morning.”
Draco stepped closer to her and lifted his hand to trace a finger along her cheekbone.
“You’ve caught some sun. Where have you been hiding the past two days?”
Blair bristled instantly. Hiding?
“For your information, Draco Sandrelli, I wasn’t hiding. I went to visit my father. I do that sometimes on my days off.”
“I’m impressed that you take days off,” Draco said, whistling softly. “According to your staff, that doesn’t happen often. Some coincidence, don’t you think, that you should slip out of my apartment without saying good-bye and then go incommunicado immediately after that? Looks like hiding to me.”
“What you think isn’t important to me. What do you want, anyway? The restaurant, as you can see, is closed.”
“Hmm, what do I want? A leading question, no?”
He closed the remaining distance between them, his arms wrapping around Blair with the familiarity of lovers, his head bending to her ear. A shiver of anticipation danced down her spine as she felt his breath against her skin.
“I’ll show you what I want,” he growled, before his tongue licked out to tease her earlobe.
Her hands moved to his shoulders as her knees went weak, then common sense prevailed. They were in her restaurant with reporters outside. This was totally crazy.
“No, Draco. Stop, please.”
The words wrung past her lips as Blair drew on every ounce of self-control she possessed to push him away.
“We can’t,” she continued. “Not with—”
She gestured toward the front of the restaurant and shook her head. When the heck had her life grown so complicated?
“Fine then, we will go somewhere more private. Your rooms, perhaps?”
“To talk,” Blair asserted.
“If you wish.”
A tiny smile pulled at Draco’s lips, the sight of that sensuous curve sending a bolt of sheer longing through Blair’s body. She pushed the sensation down, refusing to let her desire for him control her, and showed him through the kitchen to the back of the restaurant.
She felt the sheer presence of him at her back, like a wall of heat imprinting the length of her body. The hairs on the back of her neck tickled with awareness.
Blair went to unlock and open the back door, but Draco forestalled her action, his hand big and warm as it trapped hers against the doorknob.
“Wait just a moment. We will open it slowly to ensure none of those reporters have snuck around the back.”
Blair did as he suggested, looking both ways before signaling to him that the way was clear. He followed her up the stairs to her flat. As she pushed open the front door she was suddenly assailed with the massive differences between their lives.
Draco came from wealth, a long, long line of money and privilege with a heritage that stretched back centuries. Even his apartment here in Auckland shrieked money, although the simple, modern lines were a far cry from the opulence of the palazzo. She smiled to herself. Palazzo. How many people could say a palazzo was their home?
Oh yeah, they were different all right. For some reason it hadn’t seemed to matter when she was in Tuscany—she’d been wooed by the strength of their attraction and by the sheer luxury of simply indulging in one another. But even so, back then she’d known it couldn’t last. Nothing ever did in her life. His life was so totally at the extreme opposite of the scale to hers, and clearly no one had ever said no to him before. At least no one had ever said no and meant it.
“Can I offer you a drink?” Blair said, as Draco stood just inside the door taking in their surroundings.
She supposed that to his eyes it would all look very temporary and not a little bit shabby. For the amount of time she spent here, it did the job.
“No. I didn’t come to have a drink with you.”
“Then what did you come here for?”
The look in his eyes nailed her feet to the floor where she stood. Heat suffused her body in a slow wave. He wanted her, period. And weakling that she was, she wanted him too.
“Come back to my apartment.” His voice was low, slightly uneven. “Come and stay with me until I have to go home.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not? My building’s security would give you some peace from these wretched reporters. Besides, you know you want to. Just look at you. Already I can see you’re aroused in the way your eyes gleam, in the way you’re breathing. If I touched you, your skin would be hot beneath my fingers, and if I cupped your breast I’d feel your heartbeat against my palm.”
Breath shuddered from Blair’s lungs. She could almost sense his hand against her, so evocative was his tone.
“Come back to my apartment,” he coaxed.
“How long?” Blair dragged the edges of her sanity around her like a deflective cloak. Somehow, she had to find the courage to resist him. If she didn’t, she knew there could only be heartbreak in store.
“Two weeks, perhaps three.”
The thought of continuing where they’d left off the other night rippled through her body in a cascade of longing. Draco had insinuated himself under her skin, into her very psyche. But it wouldn’t be forever, she told herself. They had a finite time. They could be together and then he’d leave to reassume his life and she could go on with hers.
She looked around the apartment. Very little of her own personality resided here. Aside from packing some clothes to bring with her, there wasn’t anything she’d miss. And yet, if she agreed to this temporary affair—because that’s exactly what it would be—could she be certain she’d escape with her heart intact?
“Blair?”
“Yes.”
He smiled and her stomach did a little flip-flop in excitement as she absorbed his pleasure in her decision.
“Let me get a few things together, it’ll only take me a moment.”
Her hands shook ever so slightly as she shoved clothing, underwear and toiletries into a small case. She was mad. Totally and utterly mad to be doing this. But didn’t she deserve to reach out and grab some happiness too, however short-lived?
Five
The next couple of weeks saw Blair take her creativity to new heights. After their nights of lovemaking, she expected to leave work each night drained. But instead, the opposite was true. She’d never been more invigorated in her life. She still suffered from the occasional recurrence of nausea or dizzy spell, no doubt still a hangover from the niggling stomach upset she’d had a few weeks ago, but overall she’d never felt better.
Tonight the restaurant was humming, as it had for a while now. This week in particular had been crazy when Draco’s friendship with newly-engaged billionaire entrepreneur Brent Colby had been at the forefront of the gossip magazines. It seemed as if every aspect of Draco’s life was fodder for the papers, and by association, hers too.
Reporters still hung around outside each night, but instead of the headlines reading things like “Is Carson’s Going Italian?” or “Italian Stallion on the Menu?” they w
ere more focused on the increasing high number of local celebrities who’d taken to wanting to be seen at what was rapidly becoming the place to be seen.
Blair turned to check the latest round of orders from her wait staff, only to feel the kitchen floor tilt beneath her. Whoa, she thought, gripping the stainless steel countertop to steady herself.
“You okay, sweetie?” Gustav hesitated in front of her, his hands and arms filled with entree plates heading out to a group of actors from New Zealand’s longest-running soap opera who were celebrating local television award nominations.
Blair swallowed back against the bitter bile that had risen in her throat as the dizziness had hit, and took a steadying breath.
“I’ll be fine. You’d better get those out.” She gestured to the plates on his arm. “Can’t keep the punters waiting, right?”
“Maybe you should get checked out. Who knows, you might have brought back something more than just a gorgeous Italian stud muffin from Tuscany.”
Gustav gave her one of his trademark cheeky smiles, but underlying his humor, she could sense he was worried about her.
Blair reached for the bottled water she always kept on hand, and took a long draw from it. That spell had been worse than most, she acknowledged. Maybe she really did need to see a doctor just to get to the root of what ailed her. It wasn’t as if it was debilitating, but dizzy spells in a working kitchen were risky at the best of times. And these were the best of times, she smiled to herself.
Business had never been better, and at the end of each evening Draco was waiting for her to take her back to his apartment where they’d enjoy a late supper together before retiring to bed. Although there wasn’t much retiring in that department.
The next afternoon, when Blair arrived at the restaurant her staff were abuzz with the news that the food critic from Fine Dining magazine was reported to be coming to the restaurant that night amongst a bevy of his friends. Blair’s nerves shot off the Richter scale as she realized what this could mean.
Tonight could be the night that would realize her dream—or seal her fate into the “almost-ran” category forever. It was imperative that everything be perfect.
She checked and rechecked the storeroom and walk-in-fridge, ensuring that everything she’d ordered was of the highest quality and at its peak of freshness.
Draco let himself in through the back door of the restaurant and waved a quick hello to Blair’s sous chef, Phil, who was busy overseeing the kitchen hands’ preparations for the menu that night. He was surprised not to see Blair in the kitchen, but caught a glimpse of her in the little office off to the side.
He crossed the distance between them on silent feet. Her back was to the door and she was intent on the computer screen in front of her. The online version of Fine Dining magazine, he noted.
He dropped his hands on her shoulders and stroked them down her arms as he leaned forward to kiss her lightly on the back of her neck.
“Draco! This is a surprise,” she said with a jubilant smile as she spun round in her computer chair at his touch.
She reached up and pulled his face down to hers. His pulse quickened as her lips pressed against his, then parted, allowing him access to taste her. Dio, it seemed as if he could never get enough of her. It would make the news he had to tell her now even more difficult to impart.
“So,” she said when he finally drew back from her welcoming embrace, “what brings you here at this time of day?”
“Not so good news, I’m afraid.”
“Oh?”
She made a tiny moue with her mouth, making him want to kiss her again.
“I have to go away for a few days, to Adelaide. My Australian business manager has unfortunately been in an accident and won’t be out of the hospital for several days. I need to meet with some of our exporters.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “Come with me. Leave the restaurant in Phil’s hands and run away for a few days. It’s beautiful in the Adelaide hills this time of year. You’ll love it.”
“When do you leave?”
“In a couple of hours. I’m traveling by charter, I’ll call them and delay the flight to give you time to get ready. All you have to do is say yes.”
Suddenly he wanted her to come with him more than ever. It would be a slice out of time for them both. Granted, he’d have some business meetings and dinners to attend, but he could complete the social side of his business with Blair on his arm. A warm glow started in the pit of his belly as he started to look forward to doing just that. It would be good to get her away from Carson’s. She worked as if one possessed her, and he wanted a chance to again see the woman who’d so enticed him while she was at Palazzo Sandrelli.
He studied her face, expecting to see it light up with excitement. Instead a frown pulled her eyebrows together.
“Draco, I’d love to, but I can’t. I have a business to run, and tonight—well, tonight is probably going to be the most important night of all.”
“Why tonight?” He asked, clamping down on the frustration at having his newly formed plans summarily discarded.
“It sounds as if Bill Alberts—you know, from Fine Dining?—will be coming tonight. It’s my chance to lift our rating in the magazine. To be the best!”
She glowed with an inner light as she spoke, but for the life of him he couldn’t understand why that meant she couldn’t come with him. Surely she trusted her kitchen and waitstaff to provide the same level of service they’d give, whether she was there or not.
“So this Bill Alberts, has he made a booking?”
“Not exactly, but one of his associates has made a booking for six guests tonight. It’s the way he operates. I just know tonight is going to be the night. I have to be here. It’s important to me.”
While Blair was no further away from him physically than before, he could sense she’d emotionally widened the distance between them.
She pushed her chair back a little, letting it bump against the desk, and stood up. “When do you expect to be back?”
“I’ll be gone for five nights.” He stepped closer, cupping his hands on her hips and pulling her into him. “Will you miss me?”
He felt the fine tremor run through her before she answered.
“You know I will. But it’s okay.” She laughed, the sound almost artificial. “It’s not as if we have a permanent arrangement together or anything. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a big night to prepare for.”
She went to pull free from his hands, but rather than let her go he tightened his grip, cradling her between his hips. He ran his hands up the long muscles of her back until their bodies were aligned. Her breasts pressed against his chest, full, firm. Different, yet the same. A different bra, perhaps? He couldn’t wait to see it, to peel it off her. But in the meantime, he’d have to settle for a kiss that could last him the five nights he’d be away.
He took her lips hungrily, determined to imprint himself indelibly on her both physically and mentally. It bothered him more than he cared to admit that she was prepared to put her work before him, but he reminded himself, it was her intensity, her focus and her drive that he’d found so compelling. The first time he’d seen her, in the kitchens of the commercial arm of the palazzo that catered to groups on culinary tours, she’d stood out from the rest. A humming, vibrant energy amongst a collection of people who only played at being artists in the kitchen.
Blood pooled in his groin and he ground his hips against her, letting his tongue slide into her mouth in a pale imitation of what he wanted to do with her body. She melted against him, her body no longer stiff and reluctant in his arms, but pliant and willing.
The sound of a throat clearing dragged his attention back to where they were.
“You guys want to get a room or something?” Gustav asked from behind him.
“We were just saying arrivederci.”
Draco reluctantly let Blair from his arms. The instant feeling of emptiness came as a surprise, but then again, they’d been all but making lo
ve here in this tiny cluttered room. It was no wonder that he physically missed her already.
“Gustav, you’re here early,” Blair said, a warm blush rising up her neck and invading her cheeks.
“Didn’t want to miss the show,” her headwaiter replied. “The one tonight, I mean—Bill Alberts.”
“You people have no proof this man is even coming tonight. Why are you all so…so?” Words failed Draco and he gestured widely with his hands.
Blair caught his hands in hers. “Because this is everything we have worked for for months. If he doesn’t show, we’ll have had a great trial run.”
“But isn’t every night a trial run?”
“Of course. But this one could be it. It’s as close as we’ve gotten. Now, I’m sure you have things to do before you leave tonight, and I know I have a lot to see to.”
Draco couldn’t believe she was dismissing him! Usually, he was the one to make an exit. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. He settled for amused. He didn’t want their parting, however brief this time, to be tainted by any sour words between them. But when he came back he planned to absorb all her attention—to the extent that she wouldn’t want to be without him again.
“Ciao, bella. Until next Wednesday.”
“Take care, Draco.”
Her attention was already back on her computer screen before he’d even left the room.
“It’s a bugger, isn’t it?” Gustav said at his side.
“What is?”
“That she’s so absorbed in her work.”
“A minor problem, si. But nothing that can’t be dealt with,” Draco replied confidently. With any luck she’d miss him as much as he knew he would miss her in the next few days. It would make his suggestion to her when he got back that much easier to implement.
“Well, good luck, buddy. You’ll need it. She’s married to this place, you know.”
“We will see about that.”
He would definitely see about that, Draco decided as his driver pulled away from the front of the restaurant.
Blair picked up the phone and dialed her father’s number. He deserved to know that tonight could be the night they’d all been waiting for.
