‘You really think you’re up for this?’ He put as much incredulity into his voice as he could. ‘You really think you can pull this restaurant job off?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Given your past form, you really think you’re going to last the distance?’
Her chin lifted. ‘Oh, I’m not the one who’ll have any trouble on that score.’
He made his lip curl. ‘Let me make my position plain. I have doubts about your ability to knuckle down and stick to anything, Bella. Serious doubts. It’d be better for all concerned, and it’d save us a whole load of trouble, if you just left now rather than a month down the track. I’d prefer it, in fact, if you’d leave right now.’
There was a long pause and then she raised one supercilious eyebrow. ‘Well, well, who knew that one little virgin could have The Iceman in such a sweat?’
He wasn’t sweating!
‘I’m not going anywhere, Dominic.’
‘Is that a promise?’
‘It is.’
Then he meant to make sure she kept it.
Still, she looked just as irresistible when she was haughty and disdainful as when she was smiling and animated. He wanted to throw his hands in the air and stalk off. ‘Lemon tart,’ he said instead. ‘I ordered lemon tart for dessert.’
She rose. ‘I do hope you enjoy it.’
She was the one who stalked off.
He was the one left feeling like a heel.
CHAPTER SIX
AFTER three days Dominic’s curiosity finally conquered him. He found his feet taking him in the direction of Bella’s domain—the kitchen.
For the last three days he and Bella had both been so busy they’d barely spent any time in each other’s company. For all their discussion about chores, they hadn’t even eaten together. When they were both in the apartment, they hunkered over their individual folders and reports at opposite ends of the living room, him at the dining table, Bella on the love seat with a couple of small occasional tables. He had to hand it to her—so far she was working hard.
Maybe she would see this project through.
He tried to halt the doubts that immediately crowded his mind. After their first disastrous night, he’d been doing his best to keep an open mind. As far as he was concerned, though, actions spoke louder than words and Bella’s past actions—her flitting from job to job, from place to place—didn’t fill him with much confidence.
Still, in all fairness...
So far so good.
Pulling in a deep breath—he always needed a lot of oxygen whenever dealing with Bella—he eased the kitchen door open and glanced inside.
Then blinked.
He’d expected a lot of noise—the banging and clattering of pots and pans, for a start. Plus, the life, the vigour that he’d glimpsed in Bella, had told him she’d laugh a lot—down here in her territory, that was, if not with him in their apartment. He’d thought that would lead to a relaxed atmosphere, lots of chat and laughter.
That wasn’t the case at the moment.
The air was so thick with unspoken tension the walls seemed to vibrate with it. His eyes narrowed as he tried to read the situation. Bella stood on the far side of the room, her back rigid and her movements jerky as she unpacked a large crate of vegetables. Off to one side, Luigi, the head chef, sat at a desk with his shoulders hunched. Half-a-dozen chefs and kitchen hands worked quietly, casting her anxious looks from time to time.
His gaze returned to Bella. She carefully removed the vegetables from the crate one by one, studied them and then set them on the counter-top. Her shoulders were so tense he thought they might lock up. When the vegetables were unpacked, she rested her elbow on the crate and her head on her hand.
He took a step into the room. Was she ill? Before he could ask, she snapped upright, grabbed another crate from the floor and slammed it up onto the bench.
Whoa! He blinked. Luigi flinched, so did the chefs and kitchen hands. None of them had so far noticed him.
He pursed his lips, his eyes not leaving her agitated form. She didn’t pull these vegetables from their box. She merely flicked through them, her movements becoming more and more harried. Something about the action reminded him of Marco before he was about to explode.
He back-tracked a step and then rapped on the door. Every head swung to him. ‘Sorry to interrupt but, Bella, I need you round in Reception for a moment.’
She swung round and stared at him as if she hadn’t quite understood his request.
‘I need your signature on a delivery.’
She shook herself, wiped her hands on her chef’s smock and nodded. ‘Yes, of course.’ She made for him and the door with speed, as if she couldn’t wait to get out of the kitchen.
She swept past him. He let the door swing shut then lengthened his stride to catch up.
Once out of the kitchen, she seemed to grow. Her back became ramrod straight. Her eyes grew stormy. Dominic’s breath caught. He had a sudden image of how amazing it’d be to kiss her when she was in this mood, of what it would be like to capture her lips with his, to tease and cajole until her temper metamorphosed into passion. It’d be out of this world. It’d...
He nearly tripped up when he realised the direction of his thoughts. Virgin; Marco’s daughter; business—don’t forget it! He dragged in a breath but it only pulled Bella’s lemon scent into his lungs, rousing his senses to full and hungry consciousness.
‘What delivery?’ she snapped when they reached Reception, turning on the spot and then whirling to face him. ‘I don’t see a delivery.’
He hooked his arm through hers and towed her into the office behind the reception desk, kicking the door shut with his heel. She’d said she wanted to learn from him. Fine. Lesson number one: staff communication. ‘You want to tell me what’s going on in the kitchen?’
It took only that to unlock her pent-up emotion. She flung her gloriously expressive arms in the air and a stream of what sounded suspiciously like Italian invective followed. ‘Do you know what that imbecile has done? He’s buying inferior, sub-standard market produce just because the market gardener is his brother-in-law!’
She paced up and down and lapsed into Italian once more. He caught the odd phrase. He let her vent—in just the same way as he let Marco vent, he realised. Things mattered a lot to Marco, and he took some things that he shouldn’t personally. Bella might have more in common with her father than Dominic had given her credit for.
‘No restaurant of mine is sub-standard anything!’
She glared at Dominic as if he’d dared to suggest otherwise. No way. Not him. Not when she looked liked that.
She stabbed a finger in the air. ‘And no backhanded, palm-greasing, slime-ball of a head chef is going to ruin my restaurant!’
Those words, however, held no conviction. She dropped down into a chair. Something in his chest started to burn at the way her shoulders slumped. ‘Bella—’
‘Oh, God, don’t say it!’ She raised stricken eyes. ‘Believe me, I can see the hypocrisy for myself.’
What the...?
‘Luigi is a fabulous chef and a nice man. He’s buying supplies from his brother-in-law to help his family out. How can I—me—criticise that? Me who has been given this job because I’m the boss’s daughter!’
Ah...
Dominic shifted a chair so he sat opposite. ‘Okay, for starters, let’s take our own insecurities out of this and move on.’
She stiffened. ‘I—’
He held up a hand. She closed her mouth. ‘We all have the jobs we have for whatever reasons, so let’s just take that as a given, okay?’
She pursed her lips and then gave a curt nod.
‘Tell me, is it right that Luigi should help out his family?’
‘The helping in itself isn’t wrong,’ she said slowly.
‘I agree. But to help them out at the expense of the hotel?’
She shook her head. ‘That’s not right.’
‘So what can be done abou
t it?’
She pulled in a breath. ‘It has to stop.’
‘Bella?’ She met his gaze. ‘Someone needs to talk to the supplier. Who do you think that should be—you or Luigi?’
She thought about it. ‘Me,’ she finally said. ‘Luigi’s family might try to steamroll him. Also, it could be awkward for him, but as I’m the boss I have the final say and they can’t blame Luigi for that.’
He sat back then and smiled.
She stared at him. ‘It’s that simple?’
He nodded. Her gaze slid away then and a blush lit her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry for all that.’ She waved a hand to where she’d paced and vented. ‘I panicked.’
‘It’s never a good idea to bottle up your concerns and then storm around the place like a passive-aggressive time bomb that’s waiting to go off. Believe me, you don’t want to alienate your staff.’
He watched his words sink in, watched neat white teeth emerge to chew her bottom lip.
‘In a hotel like the Maldini, staff morale and teamwork are of the utmost importance. Bella, I can’t stress that enough. Teamwork and team spirit will be crucial to our success.’
* * *
Bella glanced across at Dominic and suddenly understood why her father held him in such high esteem. She leaned towards him. ‘Okay, how’s this for a plan? I’ll ask Luigi to set up a meeting between me and his brother-in-law.’
She chewed her bottom lip as she considered her options. She lifted her gaze to find Dominic studying the action and her lips with an intensity that almost blew the top off her head. He stared at them as if... As if...
As if he wanted to drag her to the floor and make wild passionate love to her! Heat pulsed to life in her abdomen. She shot back in her chair, her heart pounding. Dominic snapped back too, the pulse at the base of his jaw working furiously.
The sudden distance made no difference. Her thoughts scattered to the four winds. The air between them sizzled with the unspoken and the forbidden. And, for the first time in her life, Bella hungered for the forbidden. Completely and utterly. Without reservation. The realisation turned everything she knew about herself on its head.
She stared up into Dominic’s blue-eyed goldenness and wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him. A crazy thought because, despite all her resolutions, she had a feeling that she wouldn’t be able to stop at just one kiss. She may not be able to stop at just kisses.
‘Bella?’ Her name growled from his throat.
‘Hmm?’
‘This meeting with the supplier?’
Each word snapped out of him and his barely leashed anger pulled her from her trance. Oh, dear Lord. She pressed cool hands to overheated cheeks and did her best to gather her wits, her train of thought. Luigi; produce; kitchens.
‘Um, right. I was thinking, what if I explain to Luigi’s brother-in-law why the produce isn’t up to scratch and then outline what standard I do need? If he can’t supply it I’ll tell him I’ll be using someone else until he can. Once he can provide what I need, he can have my trade again. It might give him something to strive towards.’
He gave a curt nod. ‘It sounds like a good plan.’
He still looked angry. She didn’t want him angry. She wanted him...
No, no she didn’t want him. She couldn’t want him. But she’d like to rid him of that tight hardness. She’d like to dispel the tension.
‘Or, of course, I could send him round to the Regency Bellevue as they’re obviously not so fussy.’
He stared at her for a moment and then he grinned. It made her heart stutter. It made her want to grin back like an idiot. She didn’t. At least, she hoped she didn’t.
‘It sounds as if you have it all under control.’
He stood.
She did, too. They both took a step away from each other. She knew the smart thing would be to leave. Pronto. But first...
‘Dominic, thank you for taking the time to talk me through all that. I appreciate it.’
‘It’s what I’m here for.’
He worked harder than any person she’d ever met. He had high expectations of those in his employment, but they were no higher than the expectations he held for himself. Yet he’d developed a rapport with his staff—a combination of mutual respect, humour and open communication. He might hold himself aloof from romantic relationships, but he was far from unapproachable.
He made it look so easy.
It gave her hope.
‘My people skills might need improving,’ she confessed.
‘A little,’ he agreed. ‘But you’re getting on-the-job training and plenty of practice. You’ll improve and it’ll get easier with time.’
She had to get out of here now. It was simply too hard talking to him without touching him. ‘Well, thanks for the pointers. I’ll give them a go and see how I get on.’
‘You do that.’
His eyes had gone dark again and it made her mouth dry. She tried to swallow but nearly choked when his gaze lowered to her lips. Again. A quiver trembled through her. ‘Are we, uh, done here?’
‘For the moment.’
She turned and made for the door, praying her legs would make it that far. It wasn’t a given. Not when Dominic stared at her like that, like a man starving, aching...craving for a taste of her. Her!
Luckily her legs had the strength to take her all the way back to the kitchen. When she reached the kitchen doors, she pressed her back into the wall beside them and took three deep breaths. What would have happened if, instead of walking away, she’d walked across to him and lifted her face towards his and invited his kiss?
Parts of her grew so hot she thought she might melt down.
Damn it! What had happened in Dominic’s past? Something had to have happened. Something bad too, to make him avoid relationships the way he did. She thought of that blank canvas of a bedroom of his and an ache started up somewhere in the region of her chest.
In the next instant, she waved a hand in front of her face. What on earth was she thinking? She didn’t want a relationship with Dominic Wright.
You want him to kiss you.
Hormones, that was all that was. And she had no intention of becoming a slave to them. Since she’d hit puberty—a cynical person would say since she’d developed breasts—she’d had first boys then men throwing her lures, attempting to seduce her. So far, she’d resisted. It was only now she realised why it’d been so darn easy.
No one had seriously tempted her before.
At least, no more than chocolate or a nice red wine.
Dominic was different. Dominic was a full gourmet meal, with an expensive bottle of champagne thrown in. He was moonlight, starlight and a full symphony orchestra.
Her hands clenched. How unfair was it that her first taste of real temptation should come in the shape of Dominic Wright? After all, there was temptation, then there was Temptation. And Dominic was the ‘capital T’ kind.
And the love ’em and leave ’em kind, she reminded herself. She had to keep her mind on her plans, her future and nothing else.
Still, there was no denying that—
No ‘still’! No anything!
She rested her head back against the wall for a moment and then pushed herself upright and into the kitchen. She clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. ‘Okay, you’ve all worked hard this morning, why don’t you take a break?’ She turned to her head chef. ‘Before you race off, Luigi, may I have a word?’
She saw him swallow. ‘Of course, Signora Bella.’
‘Signorina,’ she corrected with a smile and then waited until the kitchen had emptied. She waved an arm at the boxes of vegetables that his brother-in-law had delivered this morning. ‘Do you think I could meet with your brother-in-law?’
He eyed her uncertainly.
‘I’m disappointed in the quality of the produce he sent. Now, Luigi, I’m not blaming you for it. I don’t want you to think that. But I would like to meet with your brother-in-law so I can show him the standard
of produce I require for this restaurant and see if he can provide it. If he can’t, then we will need to start using another supplier until he can.’
He blinked and then he suddenly beamed at her. ‘I will call him right now, Signorina Bella. Pronto.’
* * *
On Friday evening, Dominic stalked into the apartment carrying his briefcase, laptop and a brightly wrapped present. The present was rectangular in shape and, while not large, looked heavy. And festive, in its lime-green wrapping and yellow ribbon.
Bella couldn’t help herself. ‘Is it someone’s birthday?’ Was he about to head out again?
‘It’s for you.’
‘For me?’
He handed it over and she discovered she’d been right—it was heavy for its size. ‘For me?’ she said again. Why would Dominic give her a gift?
‘When I mentioned that it was a gift, the sales girl insisted on wrapping it.’
Bella just bet she had. Women were always going that extra mile for Dominic. She shook it. Nothing rattled. ‘What is it?’
His lips twitched. ‘Open it and see.’
Intrigued, she tore off the ribbon and paper. What on earth could he have bought her? The ribbon fell to the floor; the paper fell to the floor.
Bella stared.
Books. He’d bought her two books.
One was a dark blue hardcover about the theory and practice of leadership. She flicked through and her stomach clenched at the chapter headings: Contemporary Strategy Analysis; Performance Appraisals; Managerial Economics. She gulped. She’d never make heads nor tail of it.
‘I found it one of the most useful textbooks when I was at university. I thought you might find it helpful, too.’
Helpful? She smiled and hoped it hid her sudden queasiness, her sudden sense of inferiority.
She turned to the second book. It had a cartoonish cover. It didn’t make her insides clench in fear. She started to laugh. ‘Dealing With People You Can’t Stand: How To Bring Out the Best in People at Their Worst.’
He grinned. ‘I thought you’d get a kick out of that one.’
She hugged both books to her chest. ‘Thank you.’ His thoughtfulness touched her. ‘That was really kind of you.’
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