Reunited with Her Italian Billionaire

by Nina Singh

  “See, there was no need to wake you. Enzo is fine. And Nonna is still resting comfortably. Plus, her appointment isn’t for another few hours.”

  Brianna stretched and the silky sheet covering her slipped lower. She pulled it back up but not before Marco’s eyes flickered over her bare skin. The heat in his eyes triggered a fluttering in her chest. Images from the night before assaulted her mind and her breath caught in her throat. “Then why are you dressed already?”

  “That’s a really good question. Now that I look at you, I feel I might have rushed a bit.”

  She resisted the urge to purr as he started to unbutton his shirt. There were times she hardly recognized herself around this man. This was one of those times.

  She’d never been quite so brazen, so downright wanton with anyone else. But with Marco, that uncharacteristic streak had started the moment she’d laid eyes on him.

  A nagging thought slithered into the back of her brain about all the questions that still plagued their relationship. All the times they’d fallen into each other’s arms before only to turn around and have fate tamper or mar it in some way. She shook her head to eradicate the thought.

  And she didn’t even want to think about the regatta and what had happened there. The harsh truth was that none of the matters they’d been grappling with had altered in any way. Did that mean she had to focus on those issues entirely? Could she let herself, just for a while, focus instead on the current moment? Surely, the heavens wouldn’t open up and the world wouldn’t sink if she was just simply selfish for a bit.

  Nonna had given them both quite a scare last night. Though her health scare seemed to be something that could be addressed, the episode had served to remind Brianna how temperamental life was. How fleeting any good fortune could be. It had also prompted Marco to finally confide in her in a way he never had before. So right now, she was only going to let herself focus on the here and now.

  And right now, her husband had just crawled back into bed with her. It would serve her well to focus on that for as long as she could.

  Before reality reared its head once more.

  * * *

  “That man is a quack. I don’t think he even went to a decent medical school,” Nonna declared as Marco assisted her into the back of the town car. He’d wanted to drive her to the appointment himself but she’d insisted being hauled around in that contraption he called a vehicle would trigger her heart palpitations again. As a result, he’d accompanied her in the back as Carlo drove them the twenty minutes to Dr. Gia’s medical office.

  She was not very happy with her long-term physician at the moment. Though the appointment had gone well, Nonna didn’t like Dr. Gia’s recommendations in the least. The one about the coffee and espresso elimination had been particularly ill met.

  He would have to warn the household that Nonna’s mood would border on unbearable as she adjusted. Marco sat down in the seat next to her and motioned for Carlo to start driving.

  “He’s been your physician for close to two decades, Nonna. You’ve never had a complaint before.”

  “Well, this is the first time he’s lost his mind, that’s why.” Marco pinched the bridge of his nose. All that mattered was that it appeared she would be okay. With some medication and lifestyle changes, Nonna would be as good as new.

  He didn’t dare tell her that. Better to let her just vent. Not that he really blamed her. A lady her age would be set in her ways.

  “Well, it appears the only pleasure or joy in my life will have to be provided by that great-grandson of mine,” Nonna declared as Carlo shifted into gear. “Thank goodness for him at least.”

  At the mention of his son, an uneasiness settled into Marco’s chest. Things between him and Brianna were confusing to say the least.

  Her decision to move away again had been somewhat interrupted by Nonna’s scare. But he didn’t dare conclude that she’d changed her mind. The simple truth was he’d been too anxious to ask her, for fear that her answer would be that she still planned to leave.

  He didn’t want Nonna to have to find out the hard way if that was the case. He took a deep breath. “Enzo adores you too,” he began. “And he’s lucky to have you. But you know, you can have other interests and pursuits. Your garden for instance. And all your friends at church.”

  His grandmother turned in the seat to give him a steely glare. “Is there something you’re trying to say, son?”

  Perceptive as always, Marco thought, and tried to stifle a groan of frustration. This was really not the time or the place that he wanted to have this conversation. “I simply mean that there are other aspects of your life that can be sources of joy and comfort.”

  “Not like that little angel, there aren’t. Now what are you getting at exactly?”

  Better to just come out and say it. His grandmother wasn’t one to let a matter drop when she had a strong opinion. Which was most of the time. “We can’t assume that Enzo’s permanent home will be here, Nonna.”

  “And why can’t we? Are you trying to tell me you two are still having differences? That young lady didn’t leave your side last night as you were waiting at the clinic.”

  “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

  “I believe it means a great deal.”

  “She was worried about you, Nonna. We can’t read more into it than that.”

  “I believe she must have been concerned about you as well.”

  “Perhaps. We just have to be careful about making any assumptions.”

  She flung her hands up in the air in true Italian grandmother style. “I have a novel thought. You could just ask her. You know, tell her how you feel about her. See what she says in return. It’s called having a conversation.”

  “Is one of the side effects of your new medications a penchant for sarcasm?”

  “It’s a serious question.”

  Marco sighed and looked out the window. “I’m not going to push her, Nonna. We both know there’s no good to come of pursuing a woman who doesn’t want to be pursued.”

  “Are we still on that, then?” She sounded disappointed, which in turn made him feel like the time when he’d been seven and had been caught stealing his cousin’s gelato.

  “Still on what?”

  “Brianna is nothing like your mother. Not in the least.”

  Marco merely sighed. Any other time, he would have found a way to cut this conversation off. He was being indulgent because of what Nonna had gone through last night. But he had his limits, even under these circumstances.

  “It happens to be the truth. And here’s something else you haven’t considered.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You are nothing like your father either. He was my son, and I loved him with all my heart. But he expected to win at everything. And for most of his life, he did.” Her voice shook as she continued. “Perhaps that was our fault. Perhaps we made life too easy for him at first. Being the only child, with your Nonno and me unable to have any more, he was the center of our universe. I admit we spoiled him. He was used to getting everything he wanted.”

  She huffed. “That was probably why he didn’t know how to handle it the one time he didn’t.”

  Marco considered her words for a moment. It was an angle he hadn’t really considered. His papa’s reaction had been just as important a factor as the way his mother had behaved.

  “Have you heard of a profezia auto-avverante, son?” Nonna asked.

  Of course he had. Loosely translated, it meant self-fulfilling prophecy.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “MISS BRIANNA, THERE’S a call for you. Overseas. From the States.”

  Brianna took the house phone Violetta handed her with mild curiosity. Who would have possibly tracked her here?

  “Mrs. Dirici? This is Anton Seville, I’m Chef Ziyad’s personal assistant.” So she h
adn’t imagined that call back in New York before they’d left for Italy after all.

  “Yes?”

  “My deepest apologies. I know you were trying to get a hold of me a few weeks back and were unable to.”

  “This is quite a surprise, Mr. Seville.”

  “Please, call me Anton. Again, I’m sorry that we were unable to touch base. I was having some personal issues which made me somewhat inaccessible.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “It took some sleuthing. Luckily, your surname is quite well known in the industry. But we searched New York first, your number was disconnected.”

  “I had to make an unexpected move,” she explained, trying to control the excitement in her voice. One of the top chefs in New York had not only called her to begin with, but he’d instructed his assistant to search for her.

  “So I’ve learned. I understand you’re out of the country. Do you plan on returning to the States anytime soon? We’d like you to come into the restaurant.”

  Brianna cursed the air. Why was the timing in her life so often this misaligned? “I’m afraid I don’t have any immediate plans at the time. Things are very...uncertain.”

  “I see. Perhaps you can send us some audition recipes then. And we can decide afterward where to go from there.”

  “I would love to.”

  Brianna’s heart hammered. This was an opportunity she would be foolish to pass up. But it was truly a Sliding Doors moment. Her life had taken a drastic turn after Ziyad’s initial phone call back in New York. She was here now, half a world away. With Marco and her son. Her circumstances had completely changed.

  She’d been working her whole life for such a moment, but it was far from a cut-and-dried decision.

  Still, what could it hurt to develop some audition recipes and send them over? At the very least, she’d learn if she had what it took to be hired by one of the best chefs on the East Coast.

  With a myriad of conflicting emotions, she made her way to the kitchen and started pulling together ingredients, then took several pots out of the cabinets. An idea had taken hold already and a heady excitement took over as she started to work. Eventually, she was fully engrossed in the process.

  She was still there three hours later when she heard the sound of the front door opening. Marco was home. His footsteps grew louder until he eventually appeared in the kitchen doorway.

  “What is that delicious aroma? I swear I could smell it as soon as I turned past the gate into the property.”

  “Come, have a taste.”

  She dipped a spoon into the thick creamy sauce and reached it to his mouth.

  “Mmm.” True delight was clear in his voice and Brianna felt a pang of professional pride.

  “That is really good, Brianna. Very creamy, though. Which one of Dirici’s oils could you possibly incorporate into that?”

  Brianna bit down on her cheek. He thought she was working on the marketing recipes they’d discussed several days ago.

  “None, actually. This won’t work with anything less than ghee.”

  He lifted an eyebrow in question. “Are you not working on a label addition then?”

  Brianna’s mouth had suddenly gone dry. The steam from the pots rose and swirled around them, adding a further ominousness to the air. “No, in fact this is for someone else.”

  “Someone?”

  “I got a phone call today,” she admitted. “From New York.”

  Understanding dawned in his eyes. Along with disappointment. Marco Dirici was a very smart man. “I think I can guess,” he said and pushed his hair off his forehead with clear frustration.

  “Chef Ziyad’s assistant finally found me,” Brianna blurted out, just to get it over with. “He wants me to send him some recipes.”

  “Because he’d still like to hire you.”

  “Yes.”

  A flurry of emotions flashed across Marco’s face. Confusion, frustration, anger. Then she watched as he completely shut down. Again.

  She had to try to clarify. “I’m just going to send him a couple of ideas. Simply to—”

  “I leave you to it then.” He turned to go but she rushed to catch him.

  “Wait. I haven’t made any kind of decision, Marco.”

  “Seems to me that you have.” He tried to pull free but she gripped his arm tighter. He had to at least hear her out.

  “No, that’s not what this is.”

  “Is it not?” He pointed to the range and the saucepan that was now on the verge of boiling over. “Careful, you don’t want to burn your sauce. That’s going to look like Mount Etna any moment.”

  “Oh!” Brianna rushed to the stove and turned the dial to the off position. But she hadn’t reached it in time. Sauce flooded over the side of the pan and poured onto the surface of the range like an erupting volcano. Gripping the handle with a holder, she managed to spill a few drops onto her wrist and gasped at the painful burn. “Ow!”

  Great, her husband was livid. The kitchen looked like a scene out of a disaster movie. And the top of her hand was stinging with burns.

  Yep, everything was a complete mess.

  She brought her hand up and blew gently on the tender skin.

  Marco stepped over to the counter beside her. “Is it bad, cara?”

  “Nothing I haven’t experienced before.”

  He took her hand gently and led her to the sink, held it under cold water where the hot liquid had splashed. Angry red welts had already formed above her knuckles.

  “This is quite the mess, isn’t it?” she said softly against his ear.

  Marco looked up and their eyes locked. She could be referring to the kitchen or the whole sorry state of affairs.

  “Quite.”

  But they had to tackle it. And they had no hope of cleaning anything up if they didn’t approach it together. Why couldn’t he see that?

  “Sometimes that’s just what life hands you, Marco. Life itself is often messy and unruly with unexpected turns and sometimes events just spill over and someone gets burned.”

  She blew out a breath and leaned over to turn the tap off. Then added, “You can’t control everything all the time.”

  “Is that what you think I try to do?”

  “Most definitely.”

  He handed her a kitchen towel. “Well, it appears I’m failing miserably at it all then.”

  * * *

  Marco leaned his forearms against the wooden rail of the veranda overlooking the gardens and the hills in the distance. Brianna was upstairs securing ointment to further protect her damaged skin. Thank heavens the burns were minor.

  He’d been so excited when he’d walked in and the delicious aroma of her cooking had greeted him. He’d known right away that it was her doing rather than the cook’s. Her style had a distinctive characteristic all its own. Just like her. Only to find out she was working to apply for a job back in the States.

  Marco slammed his fist against the railing and bit out a curse. He’d known it. This was exactly what he’d been trying to explain to Nonna during the car ride.

  Every time he harbored any kind of illusion that Brianna might be a steady fixture in his life, she threw him some kind of curve. Since he’d met her his life had been like a fairy tale shattered by harsh bursts of reality in between scenes.

  It would drive him crazy. The same kind of madness that had driven his father to ruin all those years ago. Well, he wouldn’t let it. His reaction would be very different. Unlike his father, he could be strong and determined. And he could move on.

  He heard her tentative footsteps behind him and tried to control his temper.

  “Marco?”

  “Do you need another taste tester, cara? If so, I’m afraid you’ll have to find someone else.”

  “That’s not why I’m here.”

  �
��Then what is it?”

  She came to stand next to him. For endless seconds they both just stood side by side and stared at the scenery. At the beauty of Nonna’s luscious, colorful flowers and bushes set against the backdrop of the dimming sunshine brought on by early evening.

  “I simply wanted to send him some ideas, Marco. Just to see what he said. How could I have passed that up?”

  “So you were merely looking for validation?”

  He felt her shrug. “I suppose I was. Is that so wrong?”

  “That’s not something you want me to answer.”

  “That might be an answer in itself.”

  Marco pinched the bridge of his nose. Even now, he wanted to turn to face her. To take her in his arms and make her forget about that blasted phone call she’d received. A phone call that had sent their lives into yet another tailspin. “Then I have a question for you.”

  She let out a long, weary sigh. “What would that be?”

  “What would you have done afterward? Once Ziyad gave you his answer?”

  “Well, that would have depended on his answer.”

  Suddenly the frustration bubbling up within his chest threatened to overflow. Like her saucepan. “Don’t be coy with me, Brianna. You know what I’m asking. I think I have a right to ask it.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “You’re not answering.”

  “I don’t know, Marco. I don’t want to deal with hypotheticals.”

  He almost wanted to laugh at that. “The man located you half a world away. Chances are he was going to ask you to come work for him. The recipe was probably just a formality.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” She hesitated and he knew what she was going to say next, though he desperately hoped to be wrong. “I guess I would have wanted to see about accepting.”

  Marco felt something in his heart give way. He wasn’t surprised. But the disappointment cut sharper than it should have. He should have known better than to let her get under his skin again. A family was just not in the cards for him. Not as a child. And not as an adult.

  “But I wouldn’t have just made the decision and then hoisted my choices onto your shoulders,” she implored.