Nonno had enough on his plate. Since he’d been struck down by a stroke, he’d been lost in a sea of self-pity. Dante was getting desperate to snap his grandfather back into the world of the living. And plying the man with problems when Nonno was already down wouldn’t help anyone.
“Have you told me everything now? About your agreement with my grandfather.”
She nodded.
“You promise? No more surprises?”
“Cross my heart.” Her finger slowly crossed her chest.
Dante cleared his throat as he forced his gaze upward to meet her eyes. “I suppose I do have a place for you to stay.”
“Lead the way.”
With the main doors locked, he moved next to her on the sidewalk. “It’s right over here.”
He led the way to a plain red door alongside the restaurant. With a key card, the door buzzed and he pulled it open for her. Inside was a small but lush lobby with an elevator and a door leading to steps. He’d made sure to give the building a face-lift when his grandfather handed over the reins to him. That was all it took to draw in eager candidates to rent the one available unit that he’d been occupying until he’d moved into his grandfather’s much larger apartment.
“Where are we going?” She glanced around at the new furnishings adorning the lobby.
“There are apartments over the ristorante.”
A look of dawning glinted in her eyes. “Your grandfather mentioned those. It’s where he intended for me to stay while I am here. Are they nice?”
“Quite nice.” In fact the renovations on his apartment had just been completed.
As the elevator doors slid open, she paused and turned to him. “But I thought you said that you leased the last one.”
“Do you want to see what I have in mind or not?”
She nodded before stepping inside the elevator.
Good. Because he certainly wasn’t going to bend over backward to make her happy. In fact, if she walked away now of her own accord, so much the better. As it was, this arrangement would be only temporary. He’d pacify her until he spoke to his solicitor.
In the cozy confines of the elevator, the faint scent of her floral perfume wrapped around him and teased his senses. If she were anyone else, he’d comment on its intoxicating scent. It was so tempting to lean closer and draw the perfume deeper into his lungs. But he resisted. Something about her led him to believe that she’d want more than one night—more than he was capable of offering her.
The thought of letting go and falling in love made his gut tighten and his palms grow damp. He’d witnessed firsthand the power of love and it wasn’t all sappy ballads and roses. Love had the strength to crush a person, leaving them broken and angry at the world.
He placed a key in the pad, turned it and pressed the penthouse button. The hum of the elevator was the only sound. In no time at all the door swished open, revealing a red-carpeted hallway. He led her to his door, adorned with gold emblems that read PH-1.
Dante unlocked the door and waved for her to go ahead of him. He couldn’t help but watch her face. She definitely wouldn’t make much of a poker player as her emotions filtered across her face. Her blue eyes opened wide as she took in the pillar posts that supported the open floor plan for the living room and kitchen area.
He’d had walls torn down in order to create this spacious area. He may enjoy city life but the country boy in him didn’t like to feel completely hemmed in. He’d paid the men bonuses to turn the renovations around quickly. Though it didn’t come close in size to his family’s home at the vineyard, the apartment was still large—large enough for two people to coexist without stepping on each other’s toes. At least for one night.
She walked farther into the room. She paused next to the black leather couch and turned to him. “Do you live here alone?”
“I do. My grandfather used to live here. When he got sick, he turned it over to me. I made some changes and had everything updated.”
“It certainly is spacious. I think I’d get lost in a place this size.” Her stiff posture said that she was as uncomfortable as he felt.
He wasn’t used to having company. He’d been so busy since his grandfather’s sudden exit from the ristorante—from his life—that he didn’t have time for a social life. In fact, now that he thought about it, Lizzie was the first woman he’d had in here. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that fact.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked, trying to ease the mounting discomfort.
“Yes—you can tell me what I’m doing here.”
Oh, yes. He thought it was obvious but apparently it wasn’t to her. “You can stay here tonight until we can get this whole situation cleared up.”
“You mean when you consent to the contents of this contract.”
His jaw tightened, holding back a string of heated words.
“Don’t look like it’s the end of the world.” Lizzie stepped up to him. “With your good looks, the camera is going to love you. And that’s not to mention the thousands of women watching the segment. Who knows, maybe you’ll become a star.”
Dante laughed. Him a star. Never. Her lush lips lifted. The simple expression made her eyes sparkle like blue topaz. Her pale face filled with color. And her lips, they were plump and just right to lean in and snag a sweet taste. His head started to lower when she pulled back as though reading his errant thoughts.
He cleared his throat and moved to the kitchenette to retrieve a glass. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?”
“I’m fine. Have you lived here long?”
He ran the water until it was cold—real cold. What he really needed to do was dump it over his head and shock some sense back into himself.
“I’ve lived in this building since I moved to Rome. I had a smaller apartment on another floor before moving to this one. You’re my first guest here.” He turned, waiting to hear more about what she thought of the place. “What do you think of it?”
He was genuinely curious about her take on the place. It was modeled in black-and-white decor. With the two colors, it made decorating easier for him. He sensed that it still needed something, but he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly was missing.
“It’s...it’s nice.” Her tone was hesitant.
Nice? The muscles in his neck tightened. Who said “nice”? Someone who was trying to be polite when they really didn’t like something but they didn’t want to hurt the other person’s feelings.
She leaned back on the couch and straightened her legs. She lifted her arms over her head and stretched. He tried to ignore how her blouse rode up and exposed a hint of her creamy skin. But it was too late. His thoughts strayed in the wrong direction again. At this rate, he’d need a very cold shower.
He turned his attention back to the apartment and glanced around, trying to see it from her perspective. Everything was new. There wasn’t a speck of dust—his cleaning lady had just been there. And he made sure to always pick up after himself. There wasn’t a stray sock to be had anywhere.
“Is it the black-and-white decor you don’t like?” He really wanted to know. Maybe her answer would shed some light on why he felt something was off about the place.
“I told you, I like it.”
“But describing it as nice is what people say to be polite. I want to know what’s missing.” There, he’d said it. There was something missing and it was going to drive him crazy until he figured it out.
He looked around at the white walls. The modern artwork. The two pieces of sculpture. One of a stallion rearing up. The other of a gentle mare. They reminded him of home. When he turned around, he noticed Lizzie unzipping her boots and easing them off. Her pink-painted toes stretched and then pointed as though she were a ballerina as she worked out all of the muscles. When she murmured her pleasure at being free of the boots, he thought he was going to lose it. It took every bit of willpower to remain in his spot and not go to her.
He turned his back. He tried to think of something to do. Somethin
g to keep him from going to her. But there was nothing that needed straightening up. No dirty dishes in the sink. In fact, he spent very little time here. For the most part, he slept here and that was it. The rest of his time was spent either downstairs in the ristorante or at the vineyard, checking on his grandfather.
“You know what’s missing?” Her voice drew his attention.
He turned around and tried to ignore the way her short black skirt had ridden even higher on her thighs. “What would that be?”
“There are no pictures. I thought there’d be one of you with your grandfather.”
Dante glanced around, realizing she was right. He didn’t have a single picture of anyone. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any pictures here. They are all at my family’s home.”
“Do they live far from here?”
He shrugged. “It’s a bit of a drive. But not that far. I like to go home on the weekends.”
“But isn’t the restaurant open?”
“It’s open Saturday. But then we’re closed Sunday and Monday. So my weekend is not the traditional weekend.”
“I see. And your grandfather, is he with your family?”
Dante nodded. “He lives with my father and older brother.”
Her brows drew together but she didn’t say anything. He couldn’t help but be curious about her thoughts. Everything about this woman poked at his curiosity.
“What are you wondering?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Go ahead. Say what’s on your mind.”
“You mentioned a lot of men. Are there no women?”
“Afraid not. Unless you count my aunts, but they don’t live there even though they are around so much that it feels like they do.” He didn’t want to offer a detailed explanation of why there were no women living at the vineyard. He tried to avoid that subject at all costs. He took it for granted that the DeFiore men were to grow old alone. But that was a subject best left for another day.
“Sounds like you have a big family.”
“That’s the understatement of the century.” Anxious to end this line of conversation, he said, “We should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be here before we know it.”
“You’re sure you want me to stay here?” She stared directly at him.
Their gazes connected and held. Beyond the beauty of her eyes, there was something more that drew him to her—a vulnerability. In that moment, he longed to ride to her rescue and sweep her into his arms. He’d hold her close and kiss away her worries.
Lizzie glanced away, breaking the special moment.
Was she thinking the same thing as him? Did she feel the pull of attraction, too? Not that he was going to act on his thoughts. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t keep himself in check. He could and would be a gentleman.
“I’ll deal with it. After all, you said this is what my grandfather agreed to. There are a couple of guest rooms down the hallway.” He pointed to the right. And then for good measure he added, “And the master suite is in that direction.” His hand gestured to the left. “Plenty of room for both of us.”
“My luggage hasn’t arrived yet. I have nothing to sleep in.”
“I can loan you something.”
Just as he said that, there was a buzz from the intercom. He went to answer it. In seconds, he returned to her. “Well, you don’t have to worry. Your luggage has arrived.”
She smiled. “That’s great.”
A moment of disappointment coursed through him. What in the world was the matter with him? Why should he care one way or the other if she slept in one of his shirts or not? Obviously he was more tired than he’d thought.
CHAPTER FIVE
LIZZIE GRINNED AND STRETCHED, like a cat that had spent the afternoon napping in the sunshine. She glanced around the unfamiliar surroundings, noticing the sun’s rays creeping past the white sheers over the window. She rubbed her eyes and then fumbled for her cell phone. She was shocked to find that she’d slept away half of the morning. It was going to take her a bit to get her internal alarm clock reset.
Last night, she’d been so tired that she’d barely gotten off a text message to Jules to assure her that she’d arrived safely before sleep claimed her. This was the first time in their lives that they’d been separated for an extended period and Lizzie already missed her foster sister, who was also her best friend. She had promised to call today to fill her in on her trip. But after converting the time, Lizzie realized it was too early in New York to call.
She glanced around, not surprised to find the room done up in black and white. The man may be drop-dead gorgeous but when it came to decorating, he definitely lacked imaginative skills. What this place needed was some warmth—a woman’s touch.
She thought back to his comment about her being his first guest here. She found that surprising. For some reason, she imagined someone as sexy and charming as him having a woman on each arm. Perhaps there was more to this man than his smooth talk and devastating smile. What was the real Dante like? Laid-back and flirtatious? Serious and a workaholic?
She paused and listened for any sounds from him. But then again, with an apartment this big, she doubted she’d hear him in the kitchen. She’d be willing to bet that her entire New York apartment could fit in this bedroom. She’d never been in such a spacious home before. Not that she’d have time to get used to it. She was pretty certain that Dante was only mollifying her. Today he would have a plan to get her out of his life and his restaurant.
With that thought in mind, Lizzie sprang out of bed and rushed into the glass block shower enclosure with more water jets than she’d ever imagined were possible. But instead of enjoying the shower, she wondered what Dante’s next move would be concerning the agreement.
Almost thirty minutes later, her straight blond hair was smoothed back into the normal ponytail that she wore due to its ease at pinning it up in the kitchen. She slipped on a dark pair of designer jeans. Lizzie didn’t recognize the name, but the lady at the secondhand store had assured her that they were the in thing right now.
Lizzie pulled on a white tiny tee with sparkly silver bling on the front in the shape of a smiley face. It was fun, and today she figured she just might need something uplifting. There were decisions to be made.
After she stepped into a pair of black cotton shoes, she soundlessly made her way to the living room, finding it deserted. Where could Dante be? She recalled their conversation last night and she was certain that he’d said the restaurant was closed today.
“Dante?” Nothing. “Dante?” she called out, louder this time.
Suddenly he was standing in the hallway that led to the master suite. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Have you been up long?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid that my body is still on New York time.”
“I’ve spoken to my grandfather.”
Lizzie’s chest tightened. “What did he say?”
Dante paused, making her anxiety even worse. She wanted to yell at him to spit it out. Did Massimo say something that was going to change how this whole scenario played out?
“He didn’t say much. I’m getting ready to go see him.”
She waited, hoping Dante would extend an invitation. When he didn’t, she added, “How far did you say the vineyard is from here?”
He shrugged. “An hour or so out of the city.”
She glanced toward the elongated window. “It’s a beautiful day for a drive.”
He said nothing.
Why wasn’t he taking the hint? If she laid it on any thicker, she’d have to invite herself along. She resisted the urge to stamp her feet in frustration. Why wouldn’t he give in and offer her a ride? She’d already mentioned how much she enjoyed talking to his grandfather on the phone.
Maybe Dante just wasn’t good with hints, no matter how bold they were. Perhaps she should try another approach—a direct one.
“I’d like to meet your grandfather.”
Dante shook his head. “That isn’t g
oing to happen.”
Oh, no. She wasn’t giving up that easily. “Why not? When we talked on the phone, he was very excited about my arrival.”
“Things have changed since then.” Dante walked over and grabbed his keys from the edge of the kitchen counter. “It just wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“Did you even tell him that I was here?”
Dante’s gaze lowered. “In passing.”
He was leaving something out but what? “And did you discuss the contract?”
“No. He had a bad night and he was agitated this morning. I didn’t think him hearing about what has transpired since your arrival would help things.” He cursed under his breath and strode over to the door and grabbed his overnight bag.
He was leaving without her.
Disappointment washed over her. She just couldn’t shake her desire to meet the man who reminded her of what she imagined her grandfathers would have been like, if she’d ever met either of her own. But she couldn’t tell Dante that. He’d think she was a sentimental dreamer—and she couldn’t blame him.
How could she ever explain to someone who grew up in a big, caring family with parents and grandparents about the gaping hole in her heart? She’d forever been on the outside looking in. She knew all too well that families weren’t perfect. Her friends in school had dealt with a whole host of family dynamics, but they had a common element—love to bind them together, no matter what. And to have her very own family was what Lizzie had prayed for each night. And at Christmastime it had been the only thing she had ever asked for from Santa.
Instead of a mom and dad and grandparents, she was given Jules—her foster sister. And she loved her with all of her heart. She would do anything for her, including keeping her promise to help Jules reach for her dreams—no matter the price. Because of their dismal finances, Jules had to put off college for a couple of years until Lizzie got her degree. Jules always talked of helping other kids like them. This was Jules’s chance to become a social worker and make a difference, but in order to do that she had to get through grad school first.
Massimo had been insistent that her plan would work. He’d been so certain. And she couldn’t shake her desire to meet him and thank him for his encouragement. “Take me with you. I promise I won’t say or do anything to upset your grandfather.”
The Playboy of Rome Page 4