Catering to the Italian Playboy

by Tamelia Tumlin

  A sliver of disappointment washed over her. She quickly brushed it aside and assured herself, firmly, it was for the best.

  “I see.” Felicity’s brows furrowed into a straight line, then her eyes softened. She reached across the counter and squeezed Sophie’s hand. “Are you sure you’re not afraid it might be you who gets hurt?”

  Sophie swallowed hard, her practical mind rejecting the notion outright. No, it was Alex she was concerned about. Not herself.

  Wasn’t it?

  * * *

  She didn’t hear from Max again until Thursday when he phoned to tell her he was back in town and wanted to see Alex that evening. Disappointment pooled in her stomach when he didn’t mention wanting to see her too. Since she had no intention of sleeping with him again, she knew she really shouldn’t feel miffed.

  Yet she did.

  At precisely six o’clock the doorbell chimed. Sophie’s heart ping-ponged against her chest as she crossed the living room to answer the door. Get a grip, girl. He’s not here for you.

  “I’m right on time.” Max greeted her with a lazy grin, his blue-jeaned thigh leaning against the doorframe. “I thought you’d be pleased since you have that time fetish.”

  “I do not have a time fetish,” Sophie returned sharply. “I’m just responsible, that’s all.” She stepped aside so he could enter. Time fetish indeed!

  “Actually you do.” Max dropped a firm kiss on her lips and brushed past her. “But I think it’s adorable. Annoying sometimes, but adorable.”

  Sophie’s stomach dipped. Why the devil did he kiss her? He was here to see Alex, nothing more.

  Her stomach performed another somersault. This had to stop. Kissing her at will. Dropping in when the mood struck him. Charming the pants off of her. These things weren’t setting well with her and it would be best if she set him straight on a few ground rules before she fetched their son from his bedroom.

  “I think we need a schedule.” Sophie followed him to the couch and sat down beside him, careful not to touch his thigh with hers. It didn’t seem to matter. She could still feel his body heat wrapping around her like a soft blanket. One she didn’t want to unwrap.

  “Schedule?”

  “For Alex. You can’t continue dropping in at your leisure. Alex needs structure. I’m sure we can come up with a suitable arrangement.”

  Max stiffened beside her. “You want me to schedule visits with my own son?”

  “That’s the way it usually works when … when the parents aren’t together.”

  A flash of pain flickered across his features, then his eyes shuttered. His voice, threaded with a heavy accent, took on a note of steel. “I didn’t realize it was such an inconvenience for you.”

  Sophie smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her mint green Capri pants. “It’s not really, but it might be in the future. I mean if I have a date or something it could be a problem.”

  “You are dating?”

  A rush of heat flooded her cheeks. “Yes … no. I mean I might be sometime.”

  “Which is it? Yes or no?” Max’s voiced hardened, his gray eyes boring into hers with disapproval.

  Sophie’s pulse galloped under his intense stare. “N–not at the moment, no.”

  “But you are thinking about it?”

  “I don’t know.” Why did he have to make her feel so inadequate? What difference did it make to him what she did in her free time? He certainly didn’t want to date her. Sophie lifted her chin. “It’s really none of your concern who I date or don’t date.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, cara.” Max’s voice grew deadly soft. “Everything you do concerns me. You are raising my son. That makes it my business.”

  Sophie’s eyes widened. Was he for real? God, he’d been a father for what? Two seconds? And now he thought he knew what’s best for her son? Not! “What are you saying?”

  “If you choose to date someone I don’t approve of, then I’ll have no choice except to take Alex.”

  “You’ll what!” Sophie sputtered with indignation, her voice hitting an octave. “Are you saying I have to get your approval before I go out with someone?”

  He had to be joking. She would not seek his approval for anything, much less her choice of companions. If she’d wanted that, she’d have stayed in L.A. where her father could have been the puppet master of her life like he had been her mother’s. This was what she’d run away from in the first place, and if Max thought for one second he could waltz into her life and start dictating he had another think coming.

  “I will not have my son subjected to questionable … cohorts.”

  Sophie’s blood boiled. How dare he suggest she would put Alex in any sort of danger? “Cohorts? You think I’d let anyone near my son who could harm him?”

  “I really don’t know what you’d do,” Max said coolly. “You picked me up in a hotel bar after knowing me for ten minutes.”

  Sophie recoiled as if slapped. The warm fuzzy feeling she’d had a few minutes earlier dissipated to ice. Her stomach churned as she felt the color drain from her face. “You know why I did that,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’ve never done anything like that before or since. It was a mistake. One I’ll obviously be paying for the rest of my life.”

  “How do I know you won’t make the same mistake again?”

  “Because the only questionable person I’ve subjected my son to is you,” Sophie snapped, balling her fist. “Now, I think you’d better leave.”

  “I will see Alex first.” Max’s square jaw tightened, his gray eyes glittering dangerously. “I’m not leaving until I do.”

  He’d thrown the gauntlet, and from the steely glint in his eyes she knew she couldn’t win the challenge this time. Another one of life’s curveballs. Might as well roll with it.

  “You have ten minutes.” Sophie rose to her feet, knees shaking. “And the next time you come to see him it will be scheduled.” She couldn’t handle this much longer. They needed some sort of boundaries. For everyone’s sake.

  Max shoved to his feet as well and towered over her. “It wasn’t a mistake.” He pulled her body flush against his and crushed her mouth with a punishing kiss. “Making love to you could never be a mistake, cara,” he murmured against her lips.

  Sophie melted against him in a pool of desire. She knew the kiss was supposed to be a punishment, but a traitorous thrill shot through her anyway. Heat shivered to her core and somehow her hands found their way around his neck. Her fingers delighted in the thick short curls at the collar of his cobalt polo shirt. So much for boundaries. Why, oh why, didn’t her body know when to say no?

  Max deepened the kiss, softening his lips on hers. His tongue explored the deep crevice of her mouth and she could taste the minty freshness of his warm breath. Shockingly, she realized she wanted to sink back to the couch and do a little exploring of her own.

  Get a backbone, girl!

  It took every ounce of her strength to push him away. Good girl. Show him you are not going to be manhandled. Sophie took a step back and drew a ragged breath. “Ten minutes.”

  Max’s lip turned up in a humorless smile. “I thought you didn’t have a time fetish.”

  * * *

  Three weeks later Max strode through the lobby of the Rinaldi, briefcase in one hand and the schedule crumpled between his fingers in the other. He headed for the elevator, inserted his slot key and tried to understand the logic in Tuesday, Thursday and every other weekend.

  What the hell kind of schedule was that anyway? Children needed both parents daily. Not a penciled-in appointment like a business client once or twice a week.

  He punched the button. As the elevator ascended he balled the schedule in his fist. His son was not a client and he was through with this ridiculous schedule. He’d humored Sophie long enough with the penciled-in outings with his son. He’d taken them to the park, to get a pizza and had even joined them a few days ago when she had taken Alex trick-or-treating. His lips twitched into a grin. Alex had been cu
te dressed as pirate and had shared his candy with him. In fact, Max realized ruefully, he’d had just about as much fun as his son during the event. A familiar pain jabbed him in the stomach. He’d never been trick-or-treating himself. The nuns hadn’t allowed it. Devil’s holiday they’d called it with those pinched frowns they always wore. Actually, there had been many things he’d missed out on as a child. The most important one, of course, was having a family.

  The bell dinged and the number twelve lit up. Max tightened his chin. Sophie had better get used to having him around because he wasn’t going to be a part-time dad. He didn’t do anything half-way and he didn’t intend to start now. His son would not go through life feeling like he’d missed out. He’d make damn sure of it.

  The doors whooshed open and Max crossed the hall to reception area of his office.

  “Good morning, Mr. Rinaldi.” Gladys, the receptionist, greeted him with a smile as she reached for her memo pad. “Your nine o’clock cancelled this morning, so you’re free until after lunch. Except…” She hesitated a moment, alarm flittering across her wrinkled features. “Ms. Westbrook is waiting for you in your office. I told her she needed to make an appointment, but she was very insistent. Polite, but insistent. Such a nice girl.” Her sharp, pale-blue eyes held a note of approval. “Reminds me of my granddaughter, that one. You remember my Elise, the one who lives in Florida.” Gladys dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “I rarely get to see her anymore.” Then she cleared her throat as if embarrassed. “I hope you don’t mind. I told Ms. Westbrook to wait in your office.”

  Considering Sophie was already waiting in his office it didn’t seem to matter if he minded or not. Fortunately, he didn’t. He needed to set her straight on the business of this ridiculous schedule anyway and now was as good a time as any.

  “That’s fine, Gladys. Thank you.” Max stepped behind Gladys’ desk and pushed open his office door.

  Startled green eyes met his the minute he stepped into the office. “Hello, Max.”

  Max tossed his briefcase into the seat of his swivel chair, leaned against the front edge of his desk and arched a brow at the woman sitting on his couch. Damn. Did she have to look so enticing in that sage green, low-cut silk blouse and beige trousers? Heat charged to his loins as his hungry eyes took in the soft swell of her creamy breast pushing against the fabric. “My receptionist claims you are very persuasive. She usually doesn’t let anyone in here without an appointment.”

  A blush climbed Sophie’s cheeks. “I told her it was an emergency.”

  Max’s heart lurched to his throat. “Alex … is he–?”

  “No, no nothing like that.” Sophie waved her hand in the air dismissively. “He’s fine.” Her blush deepened to a deep shade of cranberry. “It’s a work-related emergency.”

  Max’s heart settled back behind his ribs. Thank God! For a moment there he … Never mind. The thought was too painful to even formulate in his mind. “What’s the problem?”

  “I have a catering job this evening. A Bar Mitzvah.” She bit the inside of her lip, her eyes wide and worried. “My babysitter had to leave town last night for a family illness and my backup sitter is away on holiday. I–I don’t have anyone to keep Alex. I th–thought you might be able to watch him. Just this once.”

  Max watched the barrage of emotions cross her features. Worry. Anxiety. Nervousness.

  “I believe it’s Wednesday.” Max’s muscles relaxed. She needed his help. Good. He’d make her squirm a bit. Show her how ridiculous this stupid schedule really was. He unfolded the neatly typed schedule and smoothed the crinkled paper in his hand then pretended to study it. “No. It’s not my day.”

  Sophie thinned her lips. “I know and I wouldn’t ask except I don’t have anyone else who might be available.” She shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “I was hoping you were free tonight and could keep him. I know it will be the first time you’re with him without me as a buffer, but I think Alex is used to you now. It shouldn’t be a problem.” Though her words were optimistic a sliver of doubt crept into her eyes.

  “I see.” Dio! Did she not think he could handle a five-year-old on his own?

  “It would only be for a couple of hours. Three tops. I’ll have him bathed, fed and ready for bed.” She offered him a small smile. “All you would have to do is make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.”

  Max stiffened. Christo! He was not inept. He could give a child a bath and something to eat. Still. He wouldn’t make it easy for her. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

  “You have plans.” Sophie nodded dully, rising to her feet. “I understand. I–I’ll figure out something else. Thank you for your time.”

  Max’s insides drew into a tight knot. So formal. As if they had never shared anything more than a casual cup of coffee instead of a wild night of white-hot passion.

  His eyes scanned her face. The forlorn expression there yanked on his heart. She looked so lost. So defeated. And for the first time, he realized how hard it must be to be a single mother. Especially one on her own in a big city without any help. Grudgingly, admiration planted itself somewhere deep inside him. She had guts. He’d give her that. To move across the country and raise a child on her own took courage.

  But now she didn’t have to do it alone. She had him. So she’d better get used to it because he planned on being there for the long haul. First, though, he’d have to make her see her error about the stupid schedule. And, hopefully, the error of keeping him at arm’s length as well.

  “I don’t have plans for tonight, Sophie.” He crossed the room to stand in front of her. Close enough that the lavender and vanilla scent of her skated across the air between them, igniting another wave of heat through his veins.

  “Then why can’t you–”

  “It’s the schedule.” He held up the crinkled paper. “I wouldn’t dream of interrupting your carefully planned timetable.”

  “But this is different. It’s an emergency. The schedule isn’t written in stone, for Pete’s sake!”

  “Isn’t it?” Max brushed a loose auburn tendril from her cheek with his knuckle. Satisfaction settled over him when her skin quivered beneath his fingers. “I believe you made it perfectly clear I was to stick to the calendar verbatim.”

  “That doesn’t include emergencies.” Her breath came out ragged and wispy, then her eyes widened as he tucked the loose strand behind her ear.

  “Ah … so there are exceptions to this infamous time fetish of yours?”

  “I told you I do not have a time fetish. I just like things … organized.”

  “Hmm. That sounds like a control issue as well.”

  Sophie expelled a long, exasperated sigh and brushed his hand from her temple. “I do not have a time fetish nor am I a control freak. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find a sitter for tonight.”

  Max’s arm slid around her waist, bringing her flush against his body. He could feel her warm breath against his chin. A shiver of excitement skirted to his navel. “I’m not into S & M – never been much for pain myself – but I could relinquish a little control if you want.” A sexy smile twitched his lips. As a matter of fact, he’d quite like her to take control – in the bedroom, that is – and have her way with him. His fingers caressed the length of her straight spine. He’d like that very much indeed.

  Sophie’s eyes snapped. “Forget it. I’m not sleeping with you again. I thought I made myself clear. Now, if you’re through psychoanalyzing me I’d like to go. I have to find a sitter for tonight since you can’t seem to find the time to keep your own son.” She splayed her hands across his chest and pushed lightly, her eyes boring into him coldly. “Unlike you, I have responsibilities.”

  Max stiffened. “Make no mistake, cara. I take my responsibilities very seriously. And Alex is my responsibility. However, I do have one condition.”

  “What kind of condition?” She tilted her head to look at him suspiciously.

  “Alex spends next weekend with me.”

  Sop
hie seemed to mull over it for minute before nodding slowly. Her shoulders relaxed and she stopped trying to push him away, letting her hands rest lightly against his chest. The warmth from her fingertips seemed to blaze into him. “That seems fair, I suppose. I don’t have any plans for him next weekend that can’t be re-scheduled. Thanksgiving is Thursday and we usually have a small get-together with some of the elderly neighbors in the apartment building, but you can get him on Friday.”

  Max’s lips thinned. Thanksgiving. He’d forgotten it was that time of year again. Holidays didn’t thrill him much. Just another reminder that he was alone in the world. Once in a while he would take a lady friend to dinner, but even that didn’t hold much appeal for him now. He’d probably spend this Thanksgiving alone in his penthouse. Maybe order room service. Maybe not. A pain tweaked in his heart. It was times like this that he wished he had a family of his own. But that dream died many years ago. It would have been nice to have someone to share a meal with. Sophie, however, had not invited him to share theirs. Not that he blamed her. He’d made it clear he didn’t want anything permanent. Still…

  Max cleared his throat and stared at her coolly. “Excellente. Pack enough for at least a week – and clear your calendar for most of the week as well.”

  Sophie blinked. “Clear my calendar? I don’t understand.”

  “I’m taking you both to my home in Italy.”

  His bold announcement hung in the air between them. Neither of them moved. Neither of them breathed. He didn’t know who was more shocked. Sophie or himself.

  All he knew was once the words were out there, it was exactly what he wanted to do. Somehow it felt right. He wanted Alex to see his ancestral country. Wanted his son to connect with his roots. Know where he came from. But it was more than that. He wanted – no needed – to take them both to his home in Italy. A sudden burning need that surprised him. Though he’d had many lady friends over the years, he’d never brought any of them to Italy. Never wanted to.