Catering to the Italian Playboy

by Tamelia Tumlin

  Until now.

  Max swallowed hard. The need scared him almost as much as realizing he was a father had. Somehow, someway, Sophie and Alex were both easing their way into his heart. A place that had no room for them.

  Dio! How did he let this happen? How did he let one wildly beautiful woman get under his skin? It could never work. He was a broken man – not capable or worthy of love – with nothing to offer them in return but disappointment. Yet the burning need to bring them home – to his home – was overwhelming, and he was powerless to stop it.

  ** TEN **

  It was official.

  She’d completely lost her mind.

  How else could she explain her inane decision to board Max’s private jet and soar thousands of miles across the ocean to a country she’d never been to before with her young son in tow?

  A chance for Alex to immerse himself in his heritage, Max had explained. Puh-lease! He was five, for Pete’s sake. How much immersion could he really get? Arguing the point had proven pointless, though, so here she was.

  Yeppers, of all the ridiculous things she’d done in her life, this one topped the cake. Not that I had much of a choice, Sophie thought wryly. If she hadn’t tagged along, he’d have taken Alex to Italy without her. A quiver raced through her abdomen at the thought. Not in this lifetime, sugar! It would be a cold day in the Bahamas before she ever let that happen. She wasn’t naïve. She’d seen enough news stories about parental abductions to know it was nearly impossible to get a child back from a foreign country. Not that she thought Max was capable of such a horrendous crime, she reminded herself hastily, but he was a powerful man and used to getting what he wanted.

  Just like her father.

  Sophie bit the inside of her lip. Her father wasn’t above kidnapping or anything else for that matter if it meant getting what he wanted. So what made her think Max was?

  Even though she really didn’t believe Max would do something so treacherous, she couldn’t bring herself to fully trust him. So she’d rearranged her schedule, left Felicity to handle the small retirement party and a couple of other small orders they’d been hired to cater within the next few days, packed for a trip with the one man she needed to stay as far away from as possible, and apparently left her sanity neatly tucked away in her New York apartment. The only silver lining in this scenario was that Alex would be out of school for the holidays since his break extended from the Wednesday before Thanksgiving to the Wednesday of the next week, so she didn’t have to worry about him getting behind on his lessons.

  And now here they were, on their way to Italy.

  Yep. She’d lost her mind all right, but she sure wasn’t about to lose her heart too. This trip would remain on a strictly platonic level. Of that, she would make damn sure.

  “You okay?” Max shifted the throttle then reached over to squeeze her hand. The plane descended toward a private airstrip situated in a field behind a sprawling luxurious Italian villa. Blurs of green, purple and brown became more prevalent as the aircraft sped toward the runway. Sophie focused on the spectacular vineyards dotting the landscape around the small airstrip as the ground came into view and tried not to acknowledge the sensuous tingles fluttering along her fingers beneath Max’s warm touch. She swallowed hard. Maintaining a platonic relationship in one of the most romantic countries in the world might not be as easy as had hoped.

  When she didn’t answer, Max gave her hand another squeeze. “We’ll be landing soon. I didn’t realize you were so afraid of flying. You should have said something.” Two winged brows swooped together forming a scowl. “I could have given you something to calm your nerves.”

  Sophie stifled a nervous giggle. Fear of flying? Not hardly. She’d flown many times before and rather enjoyed the feeling of freedom. No, flying wasn’t the problem. Spending the next few days with the one man who could break down her best, well-planned defenses was. Did he have a pill for that too? If so, she might be inclined to take him up on the offer.

  “I’m fine.” Sophie forced a smile “Just a little jittery, I suppose.” He didn’t need to know why she was so jittery. “At least Alex is handling the trip well. He couldn’t wait to get back in the air after we stopped to refuel. I was worried he might be scared of flying,”

  “He’s a chip off the old block.” Max flashed a white-toothed grin then tilted the wheel so the plane leveled for its final descent. “I’ve always loved flying myself. Even when I was a young boy I knew I wanted to learn how to fly.”

  “How long have you had your pilot’s license?” It didn’t surprise her that he knew how to fly and had his own private jet. Just another reminder that he always got what he wanted no matter what.

  “Going on four years now and I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.” Max pulled the lever for the landing gear. “Here we go. Time to put this baby on the ground.”

  Within minutes the wheels touched the runway, and the plane glided to a halt.

  Max turned off the engine and turned to Sophie. “Welcome to Italy, cara.”

  The soft endearment followed by his sensuous smile left Sophie feeling breathless and intoxicated. She swallowed hard and quickly looked out the window before he could see the effect he was having on her. “Is that your villa?” She pointed toward the three-story white stucco building with a steep red-topped roof in the distance peeking out from the other side of the vineyard. “It seems awfully big for one person.”

  “Yes.” The corner of Max’s lip turned up. “That’s home sweet home. I have a small staff who lives here year round to help with the upkeep. A butler who also works as my main caretaker and his wife who is my cook. A nice, trustworthy elderly couple.”

  “Uh … how do you get there from here.” Sophie arched a brow. Looked like quite a trek to the main house from the private airstrip.

  Max’s deep laugh resonated through the cockpit. He unbuckled his safety belt and opened the cabin door. Then he reached for her hand to help her out of the plane. “Don’t worry. I keep a car inside the hangar. I won’t make you hike with the luggage.”

  “Good to know.” Sophie’s heart quickened, acutely aware of her hand nestled inside his. The scent of expensive cologne and pure male adrenaline assaulted her senses. Great Pete! Did he have to smell so delicious? She cleared her throat and stepped to the side. Being this close to him wasn’t good for her libido. “I didn’t realize you had a home like this. For some reason I just assumed you lived in the hotels.”

  “I do travel a lot and spend most of my time in the hotels,” Max admitted ruefully. “But, this is where I like to call home. At least for the short periods of time I can come here and relax. Living out of hotels, even the penthouse suite, is exhausting. I prefer the peace and quiet of the countryside.” He dropped her hand and disappeared back inside the plane.

  A few moments later he emerged carrying with Alex. “We’re here, Sport.”

  “‘Taly?” Alex rubbed his eyes with one hand while his other arm looped around Max’s neck.

  “Yes. Italy. We’re going to visit a lot of fun places here. You do like fun, don’t you, Sport?”

  Alex’s eyes widened. He squealed and clapped his hands together. “I want to have fun!”

  A lump formed in Sophie’s throat. They looked good together. The proud Italian father and his son. Max really was good with Alex. Much better than she had expected. For someone who didn’t want a family and claimed to not have ever had one, he seemed to fall into the role of fatherhood quite well. The lump tightened in her throat. They belonged together. Max and Alex. It was plain to see. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it would last. Would Max tire of the role as her father had? Or would he go the distance?

  Sophie shook off the troubling thought and looked toward the vast vineyards and mansion. “Was this your old childhood home?”

  She could picture Max as a young child about Alex’s age playing among the grapevines. Possibly with an older brother or sister. Sophie knitted her brow. Except, Max had never men
tioned a sibling. Or parents for that matter. Maybe something had happened to his family – a tragedy of some kind during his childhood. Maybe that was why he said he didn’t have anyone. Maybe…

  “No!” The harshness in his voice startled her. Sophie turned to look at him in surprise. A deep flush crept under his skin. Max took a steady breath and visibly relaxed. “I’ve only had the villa a few years. I didn’t grow up here.”

  Not quite sure why her question upset him so much, Sophie offered a small smile. “It’s a lovely home and your country is beautiful too.”

  “Yes. Very beautiful.”

  His voice softened and Sophie knew Max wasn’t just referring to the scenery. Something fluttered in her stomach. Keeping their relationship on a strictly platonic level for the next few days was going to be challenge to say the least. One she hoped she was up to.

  * * *

  A tall, silver-haired man dressed in a dark gray suit and tie rushed out to greet them as soon as they drove through the wrought iron gates and parked in the circle drive. He opened Max’s door. “Welcome home, Mr. Rinaldi.”

  Max gave the man a curt nod. “Grazie, Vincenzo.”

  Vincenzo hurried to the other side to open Sophie’s door. “Welcome, ma’am.”

  Sophie smiled at the man and stepped out of the car to take in her surroundings. The glorious Tuscan sun enveloped her like a blanket making her feel warm and fuzzy inside. Or maybe it was the fact that Max had joined her side. Who knew? Especially since the temperature was only in the upper fifties.

  Sophie squinted against the glare. The house was magnificent. Gorgeous Italian architecture prominent in every aspect of the expansive building. Large white columns, arched doorways and windows. But it was the sculptured water fountain standing proudly in the center of the circle drive that caught her attention. A large, quite voluptuous, concrete lady held a concrete bucket which streamed water into the circled trench below. Max’s home was beautiful beyond words. She could truthfully say it rivaled the mansions of Beverly Hills.

  “Let me get your bags, sir.” Vincenzo hastened to the back of the Mercedes.

  “Grazie, Vincenzo. Take them upstairs to our rooms, per favore.”

  “Will the bambino need a separate room as well?” He shot a curious look toward Alex who had climbed out of the car and was now clinging to Sophie’s leg.

  “Oh, no thank you, Vincenzo,” Sophie interjected before Max could reply. “Alex can stay in the room with me. We don’t want you to go to any extra trouble.” She already liked the energetic butler. He seemed genuinely pleased to be of help and genuinely pleased to see Max.

  “It’s no trouble, Ms. Westbrook,” Vincenzo quickly assured her. “I can have him a room ready molto rapidamente.”

  “Thank you, Vincenzo. I appreciate the offer, but I think Alex will be more comfortable with me.” The house was so large she was afraid Alex might get disoriented. Better to keep him close by. “And please,” she added, “call me Sophie.”

  “Molto bene.” Vincenzo hesitated a moment before adding, “Ms. Sophie.” His wrinkled face broke into a wide grin. “I’ll take your things to the east wing so you may get settled in.” Then he turned to Max. “Will you be staying a while, sir?”

  “About a week.”

  Vincenzo looked pleased. “Luisa is cooking your favorite, linguini with clam sauce. Shall I fetch a bottle of wine from the cellar for you as well?”

  “Grazie! Make it the white wine.”

  “An older vintage, sir? Or would you rather I bring up one of your specialties?”

  “Bring one of my bottles, Vincenzo. I’d like to know Sophie’s opinion of my little hobby.” A smile tugged at Max’s lips.

  “You make your own wine,” Sophie guessed. No real surprise there. She’d seen the vineyards, She was surprised, though, that he had the time to maintain them. He must hire someone to keep them up while he was away. “Do you bottle commercially?”

  “No. Not yet anyway. I just dabble here and there.”

  “Dabble?” Who had time in this day and age to “dabble” in anything? She certainly didn’t. Raising a child and getting a business off the ground took every ounce of energy and time she had. And then some.

  Max shrugged. “It’s more of a hobby right now, but I may decide to go commercial one day.” His grin widened. “It’s Italy. Who doesn’t dabble in winemaking?”

  Sophie couldn’t suppress a smile. “I guess you’re a Jack of all trades then. Is there anything you aren’t good at?”

  His smile vanished and his features tightened. A flash of pain darkened his eyes then quickly disappeared. “Just the most important thing,” he muttered before turning to Vincenzo. “What time will Louisa serve dinner tonight?”

  “Seven as usual, sir. Unless you prefer another time.”

  Max shook his head. “Tell Luisa seven o’clock will be fine. That will give our guests time to rest before dinner. It was a long flight and I’m sure they both have a bit of jet lag.” He turned back to Sophie. “We usually dress for dinner. I hope that won’t be a problem.”

  Though he tried to hide it, Sophie could tell he was still unnerved by her question about his childhood home. She wasn’t sure what had caused him such angst and she didn’t dare ask. Instead, she said lightly, “We’ll try not to embarrass you.”

  Max’s eyes softened, his body visibly relaxing. “You could never embarrass me, cara. We’ll get you two settled in and I’ll see you both at seven.” He rested his hand in the small of her back as he ushered them toward the house while Vincenzo followed with the luggage. A warm tingle climbed her spine sending ripples of pleasure though her body. Sophie shivered slightly and prayed Max didn’t notice. If her body didn’t stop responding to every miniscule touch, it was going to be a very long week.

  A very long week indeed.

  * * *

  At precisely seven o’clock, just as Max expected, Sophie and Alex entered the parlor. However, the exquisite vision standing before him was quite unexpected. He inhaled sharply, nearly choking on his brandy. His hand tightened around the glass.

  Christo! She was beautiful!

  The fiery mane he enjoyed running his fingers through was swept into some type of fashionable updo with just enough tiny tendrils escaping the bondage to frame her ivory, heart-shaped face. Wide luminescent eyes – the exact color of the floor-length jade-green silk material hugging her curves – stared back at him with just the tiniest hint of nervousness.

  Max took another gulp of the brandy. No, she definitely hadn’t embarrassed him. Not that she ever could have, but he certainly hadn’t expected this – this beautiful illusion of innocence and sex appeal all rolled into one. Dio! Help him! Heat surged to his loins and the sudden desire to bypass dinner altogether and whisk her away to his bedroom to get an up-close-and-personal view of those delicious curves once again nearly consumed him. Damn! No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t seem to get enough of her. Not her soft silky skin or her intoxicating scent of lavender, vanilla and pure woman. He’d thought having a mutual fling would get her out of his system. It hadn’t. Not even close. The sex had been phenomenal, but it was more than that. Something he couldn’t quite grasp yearned for her deep inside in a place he didn’t even know was still alive.

  Max clenched is chin and shifted his gaze to his son.

  Alex stood beside her donned in a dark suit, white shirt and black tie looking every bit the part of a young master of the house. An unexpected burst of pride swelled in his chest. This little man was his son.

  His son!

  No matter how many times he said it, it still amazed him that something so wonderful could have come from him. Yet he knew he could never be the father Alex deserved or the man Sophie needed. It just wasn’t in him. He’d end up disappointing them both like he must have disappointed his parents. Why else would they have abandoned him?

  Max chased that last thought from his mind with rest of the brandy. There was no point in dwelling on things that cou
ld never be. The best he could offer Alex was a pitiful excuse of a father figure and the most he could offer Sophie was a fabulous fling of sensational sex between two consenting adults until one or both tired of it. Unfortunately, Sophie didn’t seem to see the advantages of such a fling.

  He didn’t blame her for turning him down. It wasn’t what she deserved or needed, but it was the best he could do. Anything else would be disastrous for them both.

  If anything else would be so disastrous, then why was I so hell bent on bringing them both home with me? The question taunted his conscience, demanding an answer he didn’t have.

  Max’s stomach contracted.

  Home.

  It wasn’t a home in the traditional sense. It was four walls – okay, several walls – and a roof with a live-in cook and butler. Though grand and beautiful, it was also expensive and cold. There was no family inside. No real joy. Everything about it had a price tag. Including the occupants. Vincenzo and Luisa weren’t his family. They were his employees. They weren’t there because they wanted to be. They were there because they were paid to be there. Just like everyone and everything else in his life. So he didn’t have one damn clue why he felt compelled to bring Sophie and Alex home with him. He didn’t seem to have a clue about anything anymore that involved the mother of his child.

  For the first time in his life, Max realized with a jolt, he didn’t quite have it all figured out. He was in unchartered territory and that scared the devil out of him.

  He set the glass on the wet bar with a little more force than necessary, poured two glasses of wine from the bottle Vincenzo had brought up from the cellar, then crossed the room to join Sophie and Alex. He didn’t have time to contemplate the logic of his emotions. Nor did he want to. All he knew was that he was damn glad they were both here.

  “I knew you wouldn’t be late,” Max whispered in her ear. “You know, with that time fetish you have.”