Читать книгу Sugar Rush - Elaine Overton - Страница 8

Galveston, TX

Sitting on the deck of his beachfront home, Alberto Montagna was having second thoughts about accepting his new assignment. Although in truth it was more than second thoughts, it was more like the seventieth time he’d told himself to call his agency and tell them to rescind his acceptance of the offer.

It seemed so unfair that he, Alberto Montagna, one of the greatest bakers of all times, was reduced to accepting an assignment in some small-town bakery whose only appeal was its lack of appeal.

You must hide, his lover, Carlotta, had said. My husband is a powerful man with a fierce temper, she’d said. He will destroy you in both name and body, she’d said.

Of course, the greatest problem was that she’d not said any of this soon enough! Actually, she’d said it after they’d made love and with the forenamed husband storming up the stairs toward the bedroom.

Alberto absently rubbed his puffy cheek. Good, he thought, the swelling was finally going down. Lifting his lightweight tunic he checked the red, sore patches covering his flat midsection. They, too, were starting to heal.

He shivered, remembering the beating he’d received at the hands of Max Gonzales. Each punch had felt like a stone being pounded against his body. But the beating had not been enough.

Just as Carlotta had predicted, Max Gonzalez had dedicated himself to making sure Alberto could not find a job at any decent bakery or restaurant in the tristate area. Alberto had been seriously considering packing up his house and moving to Europe when his agent, Tom, had told him about a little bakery in Tennessee.

Tom suggested he take the job, lay low and allow Max Gonzalez to cool off. Perhaps if he waited six months or so, then he could return to his beloved Texas. It was a good idea. But, the closer it came to the time to commit, the more he began to reconsider his options.

Just then his cell phone rang and he answered. “Hello?”

“Alberto, my love. I have left Max.”

Alberto sat up in his chair. It was difficult to hear over the noise in the background. “Carlotta?! Is that you, my angel?”

“Yes, I’m at the airport in Houston. My flight to New York leaves soon. Can you meet me there? At our special place?”

Despite pain in all parts of his body Alberto shot to his feet. “I’ll be there by midnight, sweet darling.”

“I’ll be waiting,” she said, her sultry voice sending an erotic thrill throughout his whole body. “And, Alberto, be careful.”