‘And you didn’t want to stay there?’
‘I’d lived there with him for a while,’ she said quietly, refusing to think too deeply about that time. ‘That way Mum didn’t get punished more harshly when she came back into the country. She just had to pay a fine and do some community service and he left her alone.’ She caught his frown. ‘I was eighteen—no longer a child. It was my choice.’
‘To protect your mother from repercussions?’
‘Of course. She’s my mother, Rafe. But he’s my father and he and I both missed out. He wanted time with me and I wanted time with him.’
His expression tightened but he nodded slowly. ‘How did it work out?’
‘It was odd, initially,’ she admitted. ‘He’d remarried a few years back and I have a couple of half-brothers. I got on with them okay.’ She sent him a quick sorry smile. ‘They’re cute.’
‘But?’
She bit her lip. ‘They’re a family.’
‘That you didn’t feel part of?’
‘It’s complicated.’ She shrugged it off and put on her smile. ‘But I did my training when I was there. A really good culinary arts school, I did every extra course I could. Then I worked. Got great experience.’
‘Evidently.’ He nodded at the plate. ‘So you kept busy.’
‘Yes, and it was good. It was a great time. I was lucky that they all welcomed me.’
‘Lucky,’ he echoed.
‘Yeah.’ But she heard the suggestion of disbelief in his voice.
He studied her for a long moment and then took the plate of pastries from her and put it on the table. ‘We have more in common than I’d thought.’
She laughed. ‘No, we don’t.’
‘Sure we do.’ He leaned in and tugged her towards him. ‘Insatiable appetites, for a start.’
* * *
Rafe drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove her to the pasticceria. The sky was barely beginning to lighten, but he felt sunny, warm and satisfied. Three days had passed since she’d first agreed to stay with him. Still not anywhere near enough time. Last night he’d woken her twice and then—to his supreme satisfaction—she’d woken him. Half an hour before her alarm, she’d roused him with her soft, hot mouth and her strong, silky-smooth thighs and that intoxicating, addictive passion.
He knew exactly how his day would play out and he couldn’t be happier about it. He’d drop her at work, then return to the villa to get ahead of business so he could steal more time for himself later. In a few hours, when famished, he’d go back to the bakery, buy coffee and pastries and steal kisses.
While the café was closed for the early afternoon he’d walk with her while she checked on Alex. She always saved the old guy a pastry, even though they’d sold out to the paying customers. Alex waited in his chair in the shade, a carafe of his favourite lemonade on the table and two glasses. In the last couple of days there’d been three glasses waiting.
Rafael talked to him about the roses and the history of the villa, but he’d not asked Alex if he’d met his father when he’d stayed there all those years ago. Some things were better off untouched. But he enjoyed the banter between Alex and Gracie. She’d tell him stories of the tourists and who from the village had been into the café, while he asked questions and made acerbic comments. He saw the appreciation in the old guy’s eyes and he was almost not jealous.
After visiting Alex, he’d take her to the villa for a lazy swim and sex. She didn’t have to work the late shift tonight and he was looking forward to having the entire evening with her. But when he pulled up at the pasticceria, Gracie got out of the car and sent him a sparkling smile through the open window. ‘I can’t stay with you tonight. I’m having dinner with Alex, so I’ll sleep at home.’
At home? He blinked at her. Did she mean her apartment?
‘You have lunch with him every day.’ Stupidly strong disappointment forced his immediate argument. The suggestion sucked the sweet wind right out of his sails. She hadn’t even left and he’d already been looking forward to her returning. Frankly, he didn’t want her to leave at all and that fact bothered him too. In an instant he was bothered by everything—unreasonably irritated at the thought of not seeing her for an entire day.
‘Are you jealous?’ She smiled at him.
‘Yes.’ She was going to be smiling at Alex tonight. While the villa was going to be quiet and his bed cold.
‘You’ll get over it. It’ll pass.’ She smiled at him triumphantly and turned to walk away.
Rafe watched her go. She’d waited until she’d got out of the car before telling him. Why? Because she’d known he’d have tried to convince her otherwise and they both knew he would have succeeded. That soothed his irritation somewhat, but he wouldn’t go back to the bakery for coffee later. He couldn’t see her in public when it was going to be an entire day and night until he was alone with her again. But by evening he was bored out of his brain. He didn’t want to rattle around the villa alone without her.
He went for a drive, telling himself he’d go to the next village along from Bellezzo. Except Pasticceria Zullo had the best food and the best atmosphere. He couldn’t resist walking past just to see how busy it was. He approached it by the side alley. The rear entrance was open to let the heat of the kitchen out. He paused some distance away because he could see a woman working over a mountain of dough. Not just any woman. Her face was flushed as she kneaded. He could see the tiredness in her stance but worse was the droop of her mouth. He knew Gracie—he knew her smile. And right now he knew she was sad. But he was furious. She was working?
He watched from the alley a while longer. Why had she lied to him? He’d have understood if she’d needed to work. He’d happily have waited and given her a lift back home to his place. It seemed so unusual for her to lie, especially when she’d said she never wanted to do that any more. He walked to the front of the bar and came to another halt.
Alex was sitting at one of the tables outside, a younger man and woman sitting on either side of him, and there was no spare chair waiting for Gracie.
Rafe frowned and walked straight over. ‘I thought Gracie was having dinner with you tonight, Alex.’
Alex looked up. ‘Rafael—’
But Rafe was watching the others and caught the awkward look between what was clearly Alex’s son and his wife.
‘She decided to let us have time, just us family,’ the son interjected before Alex could say anything more.
Just us family.
And they didn’t consider Gracie family? When she had been the one looking after Alex when he’d been ill? When she’d been the one checking on him every single day? When she was the one who wanted nothing more than a family of her own?
The irritation that had been smouldering within him all day sparked to a full flame of anger.
‘She said she was tired,’ Alex said unhappily. ‘I asked her to stay.’
‘She doesn’t want to stay with you all the time, Father,’ Alex’s son said. ‘Most young women don’t want to hang around old men.’
It sounded like he was the one who didn’t want her around. Rafe glanced at the man, fury slicing through him. ‘Why? You think she’s targeting your father like some gold-digger hunting a sugar daddy?’ He grimaced at the shock that flashed on the man’s face. Damn it, not everyone had the history he did. He drew a breath and backtracked with truth. ‘Gracie cares for Alex. She does everything she can for him every day. Just as she does for anyone who asks her. She likes to help people.’
And thanks to their thoughtlessness, she was now alone. Again.
‘Rafe?’
He froze. Gracie was standing behind him, wearing a flour-sprinkled apron, and she was as pale as that flour, save for two red spots blooming high on her cheekbones.
‘What are you doing here?’ she whispered, glancing around at all the other people w
ho’d just heard what he’d said.
He didn’t care about the other customers, he cared about her.
And that realisation made him flounder. ‘You...’ He swallowed, then swiftly stepped forward. ‘You said you were having dinner with Alex.’
‘That was the original plan, but his family turned up for a surprise visit,’ she answered, her soft eyes full of emotion.
And she’d been dispatched. ‘So now you’re working again?’ he asked.
A chair scraped on the cobbles as Alex stood. ‘Gracie—’
‘Please, sit down, Alex, and enjoy your meal with your family.’ She leaned past Rafe to offer the old man a smile, her flush steadily growing. ‘It’s fine. Rafe just got confused about...things. I’ll take him away.’
Because he was misbehaving? He followed her into the pasticceria. She picked up a large slice of pizza and offered it to him, her eyes not quite meeting his. ‘Would you like some?’
Oh, no, she wasn’t going to take care of him now.
‘What about you? Have you eaten?’ he demanded.
Surprise flashed on her face, then she averted her eyes again.
Of course she hadn’t eaten. He stalked behind the counter and took the pizza from her. He reached for an empty box from behind her, put that piece in and then added more. ‘No doubt it’s hours since you last ate properly.’
‘You go, Gracie.’ Francesca emerged from the kitchen, a subdued look on her face when she glanced at Rafe. ‘I can handle the café.’
‘You’re sure?’ Gracie double-checked.
Of course she checked. Rafe felt even more irritated. Couldn’t Gracie put herself first for once, instead of trying to be all things to everyone?
He walked her to his car. She got into the passenger seat and he handed her the pizza box. He took a couple of deep breaths as he walked around the car to the driver’s door. He shouldn’t be this worked up, but he couldn’t shake it off. This protectiveness? Just instinct, right? Normal levels of concern for a nice person.
‘I’m sorry for interrupting Alex’s dinner,’ he said, starting the engine to get out of the village as fast as possible.
She slowly swivelled to face him, the pizza balanced precariously on her knee. ‘You thought they’d been rude to me?’
He sighed. ‘You said you were going to dinner with Alex. I saw you in the kitchen from the alley. You were alone and you looked sad and then they were there all having a nice dinner without you and, yes, I thought they’d been rude to you.’ He clenched the steering wheel as he thought about it. He sounded like some stalker. Hell, he was some stalker. But he’d been worried. And annoyed. And she still looked sad, even if she was trying not to.
Though why he felt this mad about it, why he’d chastised those strangers, why he’d insisted on ensuring she was okay... He just felt an incredibly strong need to be with her. To take care of her.
‘I wanted them to have some space. It was my choice,’ she replied with a determined smile. ‘They just wanted to spend some time together as a family. It’s nice.’
But he’d seen her loneliness, he heard it in her voice now—because she didn’t have the kind of family she wanted. She’d treated Alex as family, and for his son to have rejected her?
‘It would also have been nice for you to spend time with them,’ he pointed out with more gentleness than he was feeling. ‘You care for him like family.’
Rafe had been isolated and treated with suspicion, been looked down on, and it had hurt, and Gracie didn’t deserve that from those people. She had a kind, generous heart. Fury rose all over again at the thought of them dismissing her. He glanced at her but his rage was derailed because her expression had crumpled. He instinctively slowed the car. ‘Hey—’
‘Thank you for standing up for me,’ she muttered quietly. ‘That was nice.’
His chest tightened and he swallowed, not quite sure how to respond.
But then she smiled. ‘Your first instinct is to think the worst of everyone, isn’t it? You don’t trust anyone.’
His pulse thundered even more. ‘You heard that bit? Damn.’ He shook his head and dragged up a rueful smile. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘No, it’s okay.’ Her expression sweetened and she put her hand on his. ‘Alex would never think that I was after something from him. I don’t think his son would either.’ She looked at him with those tender eyes. ‘What made your mind even go there?’
‘My mother,’ he said bitterly, pulling in to park at the villa. ‘That’s who she was, right? The gold-digging slut who seduced septuagenarians for their megabucks.’ He looked at her. ‘All my life people have thrown that rubbish at me. I don’t want them saying anything like that to you.’
‘Rafe, they wouldn’t. They didn’t. And even if they had...you know I can take care of myself.’
‘Can you?’ Warm amusement muted his earlier annoyance. He released his seatbelt and turned to her. ‘Gracie, you’re like a marshmallow melting into a mug of chocolate to sweeten it up. You like to make a difference. You like to be needed.’ And right now her friend Alex didn’t need her. But Rafe did. He wanted to think she might need him too. Just for the moment.
She lifted a shoulder in a little shrug. ‘And what’s wrong with liking to be needed?’
‘Because you do it at the expense of your own needs. Of your own welfare.’
‘No, I—’
‘Stop, Gracie.’ He turned his hand and grasped her fingers before she could tug them away. ‘Enough of the pretence. Your whole “life’s perfect” performance. You were lonely tonight. And you were sad. You’re still sad, I can see it in your eyes. Be as honest as you always say you are.’
‘Okay, I was sad,’ she admitted quietly. ‘I saw them and they were so natural and happy together and I felt down and I excused myself from the dinner because...’
‘You didn’t want happy families in your face.’
She shrank a little in her seat. ‘It sounds so bitter and jealous.’
‘No, you’re not either of those things, but after what you’ve been through I wouldn’t blame you if you were.’ He put his arm around her. ‘So you opted to work?’
‘Francesca was run off her feet, trying to get prepared because one of the crew was late...’
‘And it’s your stress release—you work out your worry, right?’
She nodded.
‘You’re too generous,’ he added quietly. ‘You let people take advantage of you.’
‘Is that what you’re doing?’ she teased.
He released her with a sigh and got out of the car. ‘You know I am.’
‘You don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?’ She laughed lightly as she joined him. ‘I’m getting all the experience I’ve missed out on in all these years.’
‘Because you’re so ancient?’ He tried to tease her back. But there was still an ache in his chest.
He should have been relieved at her assertion that this was a win-win transaction between them but it only compounded his tension. Was this only about sex? As if he were her intimate tutor? He didn’t quite know what he was—what this was—but it was more than that. But even as he wanted that, he rejected it. That it was so easy to spend time with her made him uneasy. Yet at the same time he ached for that time to be endless.
He understood that she’d wanted companionship tonight, but she’d sought it from her old friend, not him. And when her friend had been busy, she’d opted to work. Was that because she didn’t regard him as a friend? His discomfort bubbled back. He could be one of those—better than Alex, or Francesca. Better than anyone.
His pulse thrummed. He had no freaking idea how to be a friend. He’d never trusted anyone to get close, not after the nightmare of his half-brother and then boarding school. He’d always been fighting—for respect, for success. He’d long ago given up needing or wanting real acce
ptance. The irony was now he had all that ‘success’, people craved his company. But other than in hedonistic pursuits, he had no real idea how to relate. The realisation he was incompetent at something curdled his stomach acid. He snagged her arm and led her towards the boat shed instead of the home.
‘We’re not going inside?’ Gracie asked, still holding the damn pizza box.
‘There’s a lot of light left in the day. Let’s just enjoy the sun and eat pizza.’
He needed the fresh air. He probably needed the pizza. He definitely needed to see her smile. He unlocked the boat shed and gestured for her to go in, snagging the pizza box from her as she went past.
‘This is amazing.’ She stared at the interior of the boat shed. ‘There’s stained glass in here, Rafe. Look at the detail in this window.’
Admittedly it was more like a museum than a workshop space.
‘I’ve not been in here much,’ he confessed. ‘But this is the real treasure.’ He pointed to the beautiful wooden boat. ‘She’s vintage, even older than your bike, I believe. I’m sure you’ll appreciate her.’
‘You’re right.’ She laughed lightly and bent down to inspect the mahogany hull. ‘Rosabella. She’s beautiful. Look at the craftsmanship.’
‘Shall we take her out?’ Two bites of that pizza and watching Gracie run her hand over the hull of the boat and Rafe was feeling better about everything.
‘Do you know how to drive her?’ she asked as he handed her some pizza and untied the mooring rope.
‘I’m sure I can figure it out.’
‘Move over,’ she said confidently.
He watched her study the engine instruments with undisguised interest. A second later she was checking the fuel. She knew what she was doing. And he was happy to let her take charge. He’d seen her tinkering with her bike, with the ovens; she knew machinery. And ten minutes later they were cruising across the water.
‘Okay, so when did you learn to drive a boat?’ he asked, happily finishing the last piece of pizza.
Awakening His Innocent Cinderella Page 12
