by Ciara Cole
She saluted him with a knowing look. “Must be a looker. You got it, Chef.”
Giovanni groaned and headed to his office. “I’ll be out in a few minutes,” he said and closed the door behind him. He needed a moment to collect himself. Between the instant attraction to Talia and the reappearance of Tiana, he felt out of sorts. He didn’t think Tiana was aware of what happened to him after graduation, but he needed to be prepared in case the ‘M’ word was mentioned.
She’d known him as the bad boy in school. He’d been smart but he’d also led with his fists. Part of that was the very thing that had brought him into the family business. He’d been a semi-professional boxer in the years after high school; his father suggested it as a way to get rid of some of that energy that caused so much trouble in the past. Just as his father had predicted, Giovanni had loved it. The skill and the grace, the speed required to be a successful boxer was like dancing. He’d loved boxing. At least he had until his uncle had taken his skill and exploited it for his own gain.
“Dammit!” He pounded a fist on his desk at the memory. His uncle, Vincenzo, was a manipulative son of a bitch who knew nothing of family and loyalty. Thinking about the man always put him in a bad mood.
He shook off the anger and stood, shadowboxing to dispel the anger and work off some of the nervous energy that plagued him. “Okay.” He exhaled, fixed a smile on his face and went to the dining room to greet his guests. He stopped by a few other tables before the table containing the two women who left him with conflicting emotions. “Ladies, mind if I join you?”
Talia smiled, giving his body a quick scan. “It’ll be pretty hard to get to know you otherwise.”
“Good point.” He gave her his most charming smile and took the seat between the women, scooting closer to Talia. “The food will be out soon, along with more wine.”
“My favorite words,” Tiana said with a friendly smile. “So tell me, how did the baddest bad boy I know end up running the hottest Italian restaurant in town?”
Giovanni shrugged and gave Talia a sheepish smile before he turned to Tiana. “Boxing. I boxed semi-professionally and the healthy diet turned me on to food, and I fell in love.”
Talia sighed. “I know what you mean. Did you know you wanted to do Italian food?”
“Not right away. At first I thought I’d be different from all the others. You know, Asian chefs and Asian cuisine and so on. Then I decided to embrace it and create my own cuisine, New Italian.” His gaze was riveted to those amber eyes, absorbing every word as though it was the most compelling thing she’d ever heard. “You’ll see what I mean when you taste the bruschetta.”
“Wow, Gio, I’m glad to hear that. Looks like your days of making trouble are well and truly over.” He could see the affection and pride shining in Tiana’s brown eyes.
“Thanks, Tiana.”
“She knows all about trouble and hers is right here in the present,” Talia joked.
“Says the woman who lives like a nun. A well-fed nun, but still a nun.”
Interesting. He watched with pure amusement as Talia ducked her head in embarrassment.
“Does that mean you’re single?” he asked boldly.
Talia stumbled over her words, opening and closing her mouth before any words came out. She took a long breath to settle her nerves. “Yes, I am.”
“Painfully single,” Tiana added mischievously.
“That’s good to know.”
“How about you, Mr. Tucci? The single women of the city want to know, are you taken or do they still have a shot with you?”
He liked the way she turned her embarrassment into something more productive. “I am not taken, but the only woman with a chance is you, Talia.”
“Damn,” Tiana whispered. “You’re good, Gio,” she said with awe in her voice.
“Too good,” Talia added, scanning her notes.
So she didn’t like charm. That was good to know, because he planned to make Talia his. “I mean it, Talia. And please, call me Giovanni.”
“All right. Here come the appetizers; tell me all about them.”
Giovanni gave her a bright smile, feeling a swell of pride at the way her eyes darkened under the strength of his smile. “Now you’re speaking my language.”
~
“Wow, Giovanni. That was even better than I was expecting. The strawberries in the bruschetta was a nice and unexpected touch.” Talia felt like a gushing fan girl but dammit the man was appealing. Not only was he a delicious-looking man with lips she couldn’t stop daydreaming about kissing, but he was a talented chef with a passion for food that rivaled her own.
“I’m glad you liked it. But there is more.”
“More food?”
He laughed at her hopeful look. “Oh yes. I’ve prepared a few other bites for you ladies this evening.”
Damn her for loving a man who could cook and took pleasure in it. “My stomach appreciates this, a lot. My jeans, not so much.”
“Your jeans look fine to me, but if you’d like to stand up, I would be happy to take a closer look.”
Talia glared at Tiana, who was laughing so hard tears began to stream down her eyes before she turned to Giovanni. “I would love to, but I’d prefer my profile of you be objective. As much as it can be after such a spectacular meal.”
“Spectacular, huh?”
“Oh, you know how good it was, Giovanni.” Damn, even his name tasted good on her lips. She shivered and tried to stop imagining that full mouth pressed to her own, or other more intimate places. She was too attracted to Giovanni and would have to be careful around him. The last thing she needed to was to lose her damn mind over another sexy chef.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t like to hear it.”
“Fine.” Talia smiled. “The meal was heaven in my mouth.”
Tiana groaned. “Will you two get a room, already? You’re making me want to throw up this delicious food. I mean, heaven in my mouth.”
Talia rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry, is my work getting in the way of your free meal, Tiana?”
Tiana gave a shit-eating grin. “Yes, it is. And besides, the only work you’re doing is working your way into Gio’s pants.”
Talia’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “I cannot believe you just said that!”
Giovanni raised his hand. “I don’t mind, really.”
Talia glared at him. “It’s called having conversation, Tiana. You know, rapport, things in common, a shared love of food. You’re unbelievable.” This was her job and she took it seriously. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” Tiana shrugged. “It’s just, you two are so obvious.”
Talia shook her head and sent him a small smile. “I’m sorry about this, Giovanni. Perhaps we can meet again to finish this interview without interruptions.”
His smile blinded her. “I would love that. Call me anytime and we’ll work it out.” He stood. “But before you leave, you must try dessert!”
Talia felt her insides tighten at the way those 's' sounds rolled off his tongue. “I never say no to dessert.”
“Music to my ears,” he said and disappeared into the kitchen.
Talia immediately turned to her friend. “Seriously, Tiana?”
“You obviously like him,” Tiana said as though that was a proper defense.
“He’s attractive, sure. But you obviously have a problem with that. Why?”
Her friend sighed. “I don’t, really, I promise. But damn, it’s like I was chopped liver next to you.”
Talia could understand that. “That happens all the time, Ti, only you’re the one usually getting all the attention.” Her eyes widened. “Oh my god, you little hussy!”
Tiana’s light brown skin had an interesting pink glow about it. “Okay, sue me, I’m vain.”
“Here we go, ladies. Dessert.”
“Join us and tell me everything,” Talia instructed and he gladly sat.
“Saving all the gorgeous women for yourself, Gio?”
Talia looked up at the deep, lightly accented voice. Another fine-looking Italian. She felt Giovanni move closer to her. “Who else would I keep them for, Antonio? Talia and Tiana, this is my best friend and cousin Antonio.”
“Hello, Antonio,” Tiana purred.
Antonio’s brown gaze darkened in her friend’s direction. “Same to you, beautiful. May I join you?”
“No,” Giovanni answered. “I’m finishing up this interview. Take Tiana and have a drink at the bar. On me.”
Tiana hopped up so fast it was comical and wrapped her arm around his bicep. “You work out? Tell me all about it.”
Talia chuckled lightly. “Good work, Giovanni. Now…dessert?”
Chapter Three
Giovanni worked on the menu specials while he let his thoughts drift to Talia. There was something about the woman that called to him on a primal level. She was beautiful, sure, but it was more than that. She was witty, made him laugh and she had such an intense passion for food that he thought they could spend endless hours talking food and eating. She’d eaten like a woman that first night in his restaurant and as a chef and a man, that was a gigantic plus. Her amber eyes were expressive as hell, making him wonder if she knew how easy she was to read. They would go from dark and heavy lidded with desire, to intense to laughing to sad all in the blink of an eye. He wanted to know all the stories and all the secrets behind those eyes.
Last night after his shift, Giovanni had decided to give her a call, fully expecting to get her voicemail instead. He was pleasantly surprised to hear her deep seductive voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
“Talia, Giovanni Tucci here.”
She’d laughed. “I don’t know any other men named Giovanni so there’s no need for your full name.” After a quick moment, she asked, “What can I do for you, Giovanni?”
He decided to skip the unnecessary charm and just be himself. “I wanted to say hello and see what you were up to.”
“Hi,” she said and he heard the smile in her voice. “I’m starting the profile of you with the spectacularly decadent meal that punctuated our first meeting.”
“And you found it…satisfying?”
“More than,” she had assured him. “How are you, Giovanni? Working hard?”
“Always. I am good and tired, but happy to hear your voice.”
“That’s sweet, Giovanni, but you know we have to keep things professional.”
He smiled at the conflict in her voice. “Why? I know how powerful you are, but no one would ever think you changed your opinion because of my sparkling personality and heart-stopping kiss.”
The sound of her laughter had squeezed his heart and caused discomfort behind his zipper.
“Heart stopping, huh? Well, if that’s true, I might have to reconsider.”
“I sincerely hope you do,” he practically growled into the phone. “What did you do today? Eat anything good?”
“I finished up a review for another restaurant and sadly, no, I ate nothing to brag about. Then again, after last night’s feast, what could possibly compare?”
The smile that spread across his face was almost painful it was so large. “That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Date a lot of non-eaters, do you?”
He laughed nervously. “Not in more than a year, but before that yes. A stream of them.” He hadn’t wanted to lie to her, so he didn’t.
“Why?”
He sighed. “I was just sick of the grind; you know? It’s hard to find someone who wants me for me. Not my money, my semi-popularity, or my status as a celebrity chef.”
“Just your good looks and your body?”
Giovanni barked out a laugh. It was loud and lasted a long time he knew, but it was funny. “I’d take that.”
“I’d say that’s your best feature, aside from your culinary skills, that is.”
She was bold and straight to the point, and he liked it. “I take it back, Talia. That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Her husky laugh sounded like his favorite song. “Looks like I’m on a roll. Do I get a prize?”
“As a matter of fact, you do.” He sucked in a long breath for strength and slowly released it. “I want to cook you dinner at my home. We can try that interview thing again, too, and maybe you’ll tell me a bit about yourself.”
He stayed silent while she thought over his offer. She thought so hard he could hear the gears shifting and beginning to smoke.
“Okay,” she said finally after an endless silence. “But no funny business, Giovanni.”
“I love the way you say my name, Talia.”
“I don’t know how to respond to that,” she said honestly, befuddled.
He laughed. “I’ll accept ‘thank you’ or ‘I love the way you say my name, Giovanni.’” She laughed at the way his voice pitched higher to mimic her tone.
“Thank you, Giovanni.”
He laughed. “I’ll take it. You’re welcome. Talia.”
He smiled as he thought about the conversation. She was exactly the type of woman he wanted and needed in his life. He was wrapping the prosciutto around the seasoned chicken breast for dinner because Talia would arrive within the hour. He’d planned a romantic evening with a dinner that would be a feast for the senses. Flowers and candles dotted the living room and dining room while the wine chilled in his wine fridge. He still needed to shower and change, but that wouldn’t take long so he’d focused on preparing the meal.
The meal was decadent but the servings small because he didn’t want either of them to feel lethargic after the meal. He hoped they would both feel amorous, passionate. Horny. Hell, he already felt all of those things and imagined they would only get more pronounced as the evening wore on.
The saltimbocca was in the oven and everything else just needed to be cooked so he ran upstairs to shower and dress. Twenty minutes later, he walked down the plush stairs, feeling better in fresh jeans, a white sweater and no shoes. Tonight he was going for casual comfort because he didn’t want to push Talia too fast, but he wanted her. He also didn’t want to intimidate her with his wealth.
He’d just poured himself a glass of wine to calm his nerves when the bell rang. He padded to his front door, pulling it open with a smile. “Welcome, Talia.”
She smiled but her eyes darted around like a scared little doe. “Um, thanks. I think. This is your place?”
He chuckled and pulled her in, wrapping her in a hug and kissing her cheek. “Sure is. Who else’s would it be?”
She shrugged. “Anyone, I suppose. It’s just so big and extravagant and…big.”
“You said that already.” He sucked in his bottom lip to avoid laughing at her obvious discomfort. “Is this a problem?”
She shook her head. “I suppose not, it’s just…I thought I would be having dinner with a chef, not a…whatever you are.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What am I?”
“Some type of super rich guy, right? Millionaire or billionaire, I don’t know.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I mean, I heard you were wealthy but damn.”
What a comforting surprise. She hadn’t known he was a billionaire, and she seemed more put off by it than he would’ve liked. “It’s true, I guess. I am rich, a billionaire actually.” This time, he did laugh when her amber eyes went wide. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us.”
Talia shrugged. “No. You don’t act like a rich guy so I guess we’ll see where the night takes us.” She smiled up at him and he had to lock his knees because it packed such a powerful punch.
“In that case, let me give you the grand tour.”
~
“Will we make it back to the dining room by the time the food is done?” Talia had to make a joke about it or she would die of embarrassment. Of course the one man to catch her attention in ages would be another chef and stinking rich to boot. She didn’t like either of those things, but she couldn’t deny the chemist
ry that zapped between them. So, all she could do was keep an eye out for the warning signs and take it slowly.
Giovanni laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll only show you the downstairs. We can tour the upstairs to walk off dinner later.” He winked and guided her into the kitchen.
Talia couldn’t stop the groan that ripped from her mouth. “It smells divine in here! What are we having?” She took a step toward the six-burner stove but he pulled her back to him, pressing her body against his, making her gasp.
“That is a surprise for the dinner table. Have some wine.”
“That sounds lovely, Giovanni.” While he poured, she took a few steps in the direction of the double oven, where some delicious cured meat roasted and produced heavenly smells. “Mmmm, just a hint. Please?”
He shook his head with an amused smile. “No way am I caving just because you’ve made your voice all deep and sexy.”
Well damn, tell me how you really feel. Was her voice really all that deep and sexy? She didn’t hear it, so she chose to ignore it. It was a bad idea to get involved with this man, for many reasons. Least of all was that he was the subject of her profile. Unfortunately, being in such close proximity to him made Talia forget all about those other reasons. “Giovanni, tell me the story of how you got into cooking.” He’d mentioned it briefly a few nights ago but she wanted to know.
“It isn’t all that exciting. I was a wild child who got in trouble all the time. Mostly for fighting. Dad enrolled me in classes at a boxing gym to burn off ‘that troublemaking energy’ and I was instantly hooked. I got good, really good, but I wasn’t as healthy as I could be and my coach introduced me to healthy eating.” He laughed at the memory, making a small smile curl up her mouth. “I had to cook for myself because in my family it was all about pasta and cream and eating. Lots and lots of eating. I started experimenting with the healthy stuff and then with other stuff. Soon I cared more about the food than the boxing.”