by Cara Marsi
Capri Nights
By
Cara Marsi
Capri Nights
Copyright © 2015 Carolyn Matkowsky
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from Carolyn Matkowsky.
Published by The Painted Lady Press
United States of America
This book is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely in the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any references to places, events or locales are used in a fictitious manner.
Edited by Judi Fennell
Cover by Harris Channing
Formatted by Aileen Fish
Table of Contents
Title
Copyright
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Bonus Recipe
About Cara Marsi
Booklist
A San Francisco sous chef discovers she might have bitten off more than she can chew when a yummy Italian man stirs up a recipe for romance on the delicious Isle of Capri.
Sous chef Cat Connors has spent a lifetime feeling like a stale cracker on a plate of fancy hors d’oeuvres among her stepfamily. But when she travels from San Francisco to the sunny Isle of Capri, she’s determined to finally shed her dowdy image and spice up her life. She has big plans for her future as a chef. Those plans don’t include a yummy Italian with a mouth-watering body and a smile that melts her insides like gelato under the hot Capri sun.
When Alex Viteli retreats to his villa on Capri to escape the notoriety and legal troubles brought on by his family, the last thing he needs is a beautiful, tempting dish of a woman. Alex may be the scion of a wealthy Italian family, but that won’t matter if he can’t cook up a scheme to clear his father’s name and keep himself out of prison.
Though they fit together like strawberries and chocolate, Cat and Alex may not have time for more than a quick bite of romance. Cat’s future is in San Francisco. Alex can’t leave Italy. But the sultry Capri nights might tempt them both to savor just one more sweet taste of love.
CHAPTER ONE
Isle of Capri, Italy
“Mi scusi, signorina! Signorina, scusi!”
The urgent male voice broke into Cat Connors’ thoughts and rose above the babel of languages from the tourists crowding Capri’s main square, La Piazetta. The man’s voice got closer. Her knowledge of Italian was limited, but it sounded like he wanted a woman’s attention. He couldn’t be talking to her. She kept walking.
Someone touched her arm, stopping her.
With a gasp, she turned around. Her gaze collided with a black T-shirt stretched over a hard, muscled chest. Slowly, she raised her eyes to take in six feet of male hotness. He stared down at her with the hazel eyes of a Roman god. He must have descended from the heavens, with those chiseled cheekbones, wavy dark blond hair and full lips that promised heavenly delights. He epitomized the kind of gorgeous guy she’d expect to find on this romantic island.
He held out a phone to her. “Ha perso il suo telefono?”
She felt in her pants pocket. Empty.
“My phone! Thank you. Where did you find it?” Hoping he spoke English, she took the phone from him.
“It fell out of your pocket.” Speaking perfect English, his deep voice with a hint of lilting accent sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through her.
Clutching the phone, she patted her pocket again. The movement of her hips as she walked must have pushed the phone out. She should have known to secure it better. Her eyes met Mr. Roman God’s. “Thank you again.”
His killer grin made her insides melt like gelato in the hot Italian sun.
He shrugged in that offhand way Italians had perfected. “No problem. You are American?”
“I am.”
Someone shoved against her and she almost lost her balance. Mr. Roman God cupped her elbow, steadying her.
“It’s not every day I have the pleasure of meeting a beautiful American,” he said.
Her beautiful? No one except her mother had ever called her that. “Uh—thank you,” she stammered.
“I would like to buy you a glass of wine.” He studied her with those incredible hazel eyes fringed by thick dark lashes.
This smokin’ guy was picking her up in the middle of Capri’s main square? Men rarely hit on studious, quiet Cat Connors. Must be something in the water here.
Anxiety fueled by shyness compelled Cat to say no. If she was ever to become the new Cat, she had to forge ahead and take chances. Forced to come here on this family trip, she’d decided it would be the catalyst she needed to complete her metamorphosis into a new Cat. She’d finally pull free from the shadows of her glamorous stepsisters and be her own person—a woman who no longer tried to please others but lived her own life. A little harmless flirtation with Mr. Roman God would be the perfect place to start. In this square packed with tourists, she’d be safe. She had time before she had to meet Angelina.
“Okay, I’d like to have a drink with you.”
They sat at an outdoor table in a nearby café that fronted the square. Mr. Roman God said something in rapid Italian to the waiter who brought over a bottle of chilled pinot grigio, opened it, and presented the cork to her companion, who sniffed the cork and nodded that the wine was acceptable. The waiter filled two glasses and shoved the opened bottle into an ice-filled bucket on a stand next to them.
When he left, Mr. Hotness leaned his elbow on the table and raised his glass. “My day has become more interesting.”
She touched her glass with his. “To interesting days.”
He chuckled and sipped his wine. “My name is Alessandro,” he said, setting his glass onto the white tablecloth. “My American friends call me Alex.”
“Nice to meet you, Alex,” she said, sounding very proper and feeling anything but. “I’m Caitlyn. Everyone calls me Cat.”
She held out her hand. Instead of shaking it, he raised it to his lips. When he planted a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, his touch sent electricity rocketing up her arm. She pulled free before they spontaneously combusted in front of the hordes of tourists crowding the square. Damn, his touch was explosive.
She took a big swallow of wine, as if the liquid could quench her sudden thirst for something wild and forbidden that flowed through her veins with the force of a storm off the Gulf of Naples.
“Cat.” He said her name as if it were a scrumptious treat he savored. “The name suits you.” He grabbed the wine bottle and refilled her glass. “Are you enjoying our beautiful island?”
“What’s not to enjoy? It’s paradise.”
He laughed softly.
His easy charm was the ingredient she needed to bolster her confidence. She tilted her head and ran a hand down her thick braid that fell over her shoulder. Interest flared in his eyes. She could lose all her inhibitions in those eyes.
A seductive grin played around his mouth and he lifted his glass in salute. “To your beautiful red hair.”
“It’s not really red. More of a chestnut brown.” Heat started at her neck and spread over her face. Way to go, Cat. Real sophisticated. She’d never learned to accept compliments. But then she’d had very few considering most people compared he
r to her stylish stepmother and stepsisters and found her wanting. No more. The new Cat would appreciate compliments, thank you very much, and show those stepsisters she could play on their rarified turf.
He looked down at her left hand, bare of any rings. “You are alone?”
Smokin’ or not, he was a stranger. She’d be careful. “My family is here too, for my stepsister’s wedding.”
“Family and weddings. They are very important in Italy too. You are not married?”
“No, I’m not.” Considering her fiancé dumped her almost at the altar, she wanted nothing to do with marriage. But she wouldn’t tell Alex any of that. “I’m a chef,” she said instead. “I’m concentrating on my career now. Marriage will have to wait.”
“A chef. Molto bene. Very good.”
“Thanks.” Cooking had always been her passion, and she knew she was good. She had no problems accepting compliments on her cooking.
“Where in the States do you live?” he asked.
“San Francisco.”
“I’ve been there several times on business. A beautiful city, but not as beautiful as Capri.”
She laughed. “You’d better not let anyone from San Francisco hear that.”
He pushed aside his glass and leaned closer. “I would like to show you around my island, then you will see how beautiful it is.”
She ran a finger around the rim of her glass. “Thank you for the invitation, but I don’t really know you.”
“I understand. Have dinner with me here tomorrow night? Then we can get to know each other.”
His eyes, his mouth, his charm tempted. “I’m not sure,” she said.
“I’ll put my number into your phone. It will be your choice to call me.”
Like ingredients thrown into a stewpot, her mind jumbled. She wanted to see him again. He could be a gigolo preying on female tourists. Take a chance, Cat, a small voice inside her said. As she started to slide her phone to him, it dinged, signaling a text. When she read the text, she gasped and retrieved her purse from under the table.
Holding onto her phone and purse, she stood. “I have to leave, Alex. I’m meeting a friend. She’s taking me shopping. I’m late. She texted to say she’s waiting for me and her car is blocking traffic. Thanks for returning my phone and for the wine.” She was babbling.
Feeling oddly like Cinderella running from the ball, Cat hurried away, winding between the tables.
“Cat, wait!” Alex shouted.
She’d already joined the throngs on La Piazetta. She started to glance back to Alex but didn’t give in to the temptation. He’d provided a brief, pleasant distraction. She’d be here for a short time. She’d never see him again. That was okay. Liar.
*****
Alex sank back onto his chair. He didn’t know the beautiful American’s last name or where she was staying. At one time, he would have gotten her full name and phone number right away. That was in the days when his life was simple. It wasn’t so simple any more.
He studied the wine in his glass as if he could read his fortune there. Maybe his luck was changing. Fate had brought Cat to him. Maybe it would bring her back. Her features—bright, animated, without guile—were a balm to his soul. Half his family and most of his friends had abandoned him. He needed a woman like Cat in his life.
He’d spotted her, walking with a bouncy step, as he’d stood by one of the outdoor cafes, his thoughts on his uncertain future. With her fresh-faced innocence, sweet like the flowers that grew in abundance along the square, she stood out among the boisterous, overdressed crowds. Something in him had responded to the wonder on her face as she took in the sights around her. Fate had intervened and plopped her phone down almost in front of him.
Cat radiated a quiet beauty with her high cheekbones and large blue eyes. She didn’t seem to recognize her own allure, unlike so many of the women he knew, who used their beauty to get what they wanted, women who wanted his money and all it would bring them. Like his fiancée, who’d fled when his troubles started.
In less than a week, he’d know his fate. Prison or freedom? No matter what the authorities decided, Alex’s life had changed forever. He’d done the right thing. He had to clear his father’s good name. His father was no longer here to defend himself. It was up to Alex to restore his family’s reputation and the reputation of their company. It was what his sainted mother would have wanted. If only his extended family believed in him.
CHAPTER TWO
Wearing the pale green sundress that hugged her body, and the sky-high gold sandals that made her legs look longer, Cat felt like a fairy-tale princess for the first time in her life. She twirled in front of the mirror in her bedroom at the villa her father and stepmother had rented.
During their shopping excursion earlier today, Angelina had laughingly called herself Cat’s fairy godmother. Thanks to Angelina’s help as they shopped in the upscale boutiques of Capri, the old Cat, the young woman who hid behind unflattering clothes and hair, had disappeared. Believing the only way she could gain her father’s attention and love was to be a serious person who studied hard and got good grades, Cat had deliberately eschewed fashion and focused on her studies. Unwilling to compete with her sophisticated, socialite stepsisters, Cat became the opposite of them.
She’d done well in college, then attended law school at her father’s insistence, and started working at the family firm, but all her hard work hadn’t earned his love or acceptance. Cat wondered if she reminded her father too much of her mother, the woman whose heart he’d broken by his infidelity.
When she’d confessed to Ethan, her ex-fiancé, that she’d rather attend culinary school than practice law, he insisted she go along with her father’s plans for her. Ethan said with her law degree and his medical degree, they’d be able to afford the lifestyle they wanted. Or rather, he wanted. Then he found someone else and dumped her.
Cat narrowed her eyes at her reflection. Sheesh. She was almost thirty and she’d had it with doing what others wanted. Leaving law for culinary school was her first step to independence. This island with its sunshine, flowers, and hot men, plus her new wardrobe, further peeled away her layers to expose the real Cat, the woman she’d always wanted to be.
With a small laugh, she smoothed her hand over her newly cut and styled hair. Her waist-length hair had been trimmed to just below her shoulders. Very straight with light feathering framing her face, the shorter cut made her eyes seem bigger and bluer. The red highlights the stylist put in enhanced her hair’s natural color.
Alex had complimented her on her hair. Warmth flowed through her as she remembered his sexy smile and that deep voice. She had a vision of running off with him for adventure. Sure beat having to make nice at the party tonight with her stepmother’s snooty friends.
Wanting a few more minutes of calm before heading into the den of vipers that was her stepfamily, Cat stepped outside to the tiny patio off her room. She leaned on the ornate white iron railing and inhaled the tart scent of lemons from the trees in the gardens below.
Just as the unflattering clothes and hair had been her disguise, her new clothes and hair style were now her armor against the barbs from her stepfamily.
She should have given Alex her number, but maybe it was best she hadn’t. His overt sensuality and her reaction to it scared the crap out of her. Damn it, she’d never be the new Cat if she didn’t overcome her fears.
With a heavy sigh, she headed downstairs to where the family had gathered prior to the party.
Nolan Connors, her stepmother, lived a lavish lifestyle that most people knew only from reality shows. Appearance and social standing meant everything to Nolan. By putting on this elaborate and very expensive wedding for the older of her two daughters, she’d insured she and her daughters would get photo spreads in Vogue, W, and People.
Cat couldn’t care less about money or getting her name in the gossip columns. She wanted to build her career and eventually open her own restaurant. And maybe someday get married, but
marriage was on the back burner for now.
As Cat strolled through the living and dining rooms to the lattice-covered patio, the cloying scent of roses assailed her. Nolan, always over-the-top, had had roses cut from the bushes in the extensive gardens and set into vases throughout the first floor. Sneezing, Cat stepped outside.
Beyond the mosaic-floored patio, the water of the Olympic-size pool sparkled gold in the setting sun. Statues of Ancient Roman gods and goddesses were set around the pool, arrogant figures from a bygone era looking down on the modern men and women and finding them wanting. Servants bustled around the tables that rimmed the pool. Cat knew the guest list tonight was small and that some of the guests were European royalty.
“Cat, darling, what have you done with your hair?”
Her stepmother, fifty-something leader of San Francisco society, her long blonde hair curling softly around her expertly made-up face, glided toward Cat clutching a crystal martini glass. Nolan’s slim white silk gown with a thigh-high slit exposed one of her shapely legs. A tall woman, the white stiletto sandals she wore made her height over six feet. Large sapphire chandelier earrings dangled from her ears. Cat figured one of those earrings would pay the rent at her small San Francisco apartment for six months. At least the apartment was all hers. She’d pay her own way now with no help from her father. Not that he’d been much help when she was growing up. Money had been tight at times for Cat and her mother.
Nolan gave Cat air kisses, then retreated back to the glass-block bar in the corner.