Читать книгу The Italians: Alessandro, Luca & Dizo: Alessandro's Prize / In a Storm of Scandal / Italian Groom, Princess Bride - Ким Лоренс, Rebecca Winters - Страница 10

IT WAS something of a relief to discover Alessandro had already left when Lily joined Sophia for breakfast the following morning.

‘He is attending a conference in Paris today, another in London tomorrow,’ Sophia declared. ‘Which gives me the opportunity to show you a few of the most famed historic places in Milan—art galleries, a wonderful palazzo, the Duomo, a few of the beautiful cathedrals.’

‘Sounds like fun.’ Lily responded with a smile.

And it was.

Examining the architectural masterpieces built several centuries ago, the exquisite workmanship created without machinery, the sense of ages past and the people who existed then, their lifestyles.

Lily became fascinated with the tales retold of high society passed down from generation to generation … undoubtedly a mixture of fable and truth.

There was a strong feeling of belonging that she found difficult to ignore, and she said as much.

‘Cara, why not stay?’ Sophia encouraged with apparent delight. ‘You know how much I love having you with me.’

It would be so easy to say yes, and she caught hold of her aunt’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘Let’s discuss it over lunch.’

Sophia offered a sparkling smile. ‘I know just the place.’

Indeed, Lily agreed a short while later as they entered a superbly decorated restaurant where the maître d’ greeted Sophia by name.

Introductions complete, they were escorted to a table set with fine linen, quality cutlery and stem-ware.

Nice, she noted with pleasure, lovely ambience, exclusive fittings, well-spaced tables and chairs provided an overall elegance including the pleasant staff.

So far, so good, Lily accorded in silent approval, aware of the inevitability of comparison with her own and other eating establishments. Something, as a chef and restaurant owner, she found difficult not to do.

The menu also earned her respect, so too did the wine list for its superb selection.

Together they conferred, ordered and Lily met her aunt’s interested gaze with a musing smile.

‘I’d like to find restaurant work and lease a small apartment in Milan,’ she intimated, and sought to explain her decision. ‘I have an excellent manager and staff back home, and I’m confident Parisi will continue to operate to a high standard.’

Sophia’s eyes sparkled as she clapped her hands. ‘So you are going to stay. Cara, this is wonderful news.’

It was easy to offer a light laugh. ‘I’m glad you approve.’

‘How could I not?’ Sophia lifted a hand, and the sommelier moved to their table. ‘Wine, please. Today we celebrate.’

‘Indeed,’ Carlo agreed.

The wine was a superb Sauvignon Blanc, with which Sophia delivered a toast to Lily’s Milanese sojourn, followed by a starter that proved a visual art form in presentation and taste. Surpassed, if it were possible, by the main. When it came to dessert, the exquisite meringue concoction defied description.

It was Lily who requested her compliments be relayed to the chef, the highly regarded Giovanni, whose name held a reverence superseded by few, according to Sophia.

Much to Lily’s surprise he appeared at the close of their meal.

‘Sophia. It is good to see you again,’ he greeted with affection. ‘You have a young friend with you today.’

‘My niece and god-daughter, Lily,’ Sophia relayed with a warm smile. ‘Who is also a chef with her own restaurant in Sydney.’

‘You are on holiday? Or do you intend to remain in Milan and find work immediately?’

She hadn’t given too much thought to a time-frame. ‘The latter.’

His interest appeared to quicken. ‘Do you speak fluent Italian?’

‘French, also,’ Sophia enlightened. ‘My niece spent a year in Paris studying French cuisine.’

‘We are soon to close for a few hours. When you have finished your coffee, Giorgio, the maître d', will escort you to the kitchen, and we will talk.’ He inclined his head. ‘Scusi, per favore.’

‘It sounds promising, cara,’ Sophia offered quietly. ‘How would you feel if Giovanni offers you a position here?’

Take it, a silent voice prompted. ‘Let’s not get too excited until we’ve talked,’ she said cautiously.

The coffee was rich, dark, aromatic, a perfect accompanying touch to end their meal.

It was then the maître d’ approached their table to politely enquire if the lunch had met their satisfaction, and received gratifying assurance before he directed his attention to Lily.

‘Signorina, if you are ready, I will escort you to the kitchen.’

Efficient was the first word that immediately came to mind as Lily entered the expansive work-space. Clean, uncluttered long stainless steel benches, good equipment, staff working well together, she noted in one sweeping glance.

Giovanni came forward and indicated a small office at the rear of the kitchen. ‘We will talk in private.’

His queries focused on her training, where, when, including her knowledge and experience. After which he showed her a variety of menus, whereupon they discussed ingredients, detailed methodology, in both Italian and French.

Testing her, she perceived, and she could only admire his professional approach.

‘I require an assistant chef,’ he explained. ‘Would you be prepared to complete a one-day trial tomorrow?’

Tomorrow?

There was no room for hesitation. ‘Yes.’

‘Bene.’ He mentioned hours and rate of pay. ‘If you work well, the position is yours.’ He stood and indicated the meeting was at an end. ‘I shall expect you in the kitchen at seven in the morning.’

It was more than she’d hoped for. Fate, she rationalized as she rejoined Sophia and Carlo, and the benefit of being in the right place at the right time.

‘It is yes, sì?’ Sophia enquired at once, and Lily’s smile said it all.

‘Conditional on a one-day trial tomorrow,’ she added, and found herself caught in an affectionate embrace.

‘In which you will excel,’ her aunt assured.

Such absolute certainty was touching, if a little premature. ‘Possibly.’ Hopefully.

‘Lily, there can be no doubt,’ Sophia gently chastised as she got to her feet. ‘We need to collect whatever you will need for tomorrow,’ her aunt decided as they exited the restaurant. ‘Carlo will arrange accommodation for us in Milan overnight, and he will be available tomorrow to deliver you to and from the restaurant. Meantime I’ll contact one of my friends who deals in the renting and leasing of real estate.’

‘Whoa,’ Lily protested with a cautionary gesture. ‘First, let me get through tomorrow.’

‘Of course.’

Sophia dalla Silvestri on a roll proved to be one very efficient woman as phone calls were made and received as Carlo returned them to Sophia’s Lake Como villa, where Lily packed for an overnight stay and a full working day in Giovanni’s kitchen.

‘Alessandro has offered the use of his apartment,’ Sophia relayed as Carlo negotiated evening traffic approaching the inner city streets of Milan.

You’re kidding me. Lily carefully schooled her expression. ‘How kind of him.’

‘He doesn’t expect to be in Milan until tomorrow.’

Please have him stay there overnight. The thought of sharing time and conducting polite conversation wasn’t high on her list of favourite pastimes when she needed a good night’s sleep.

Perhaps her plea was heeded, for there was no sign of him as she shared an evening meal with Sophia and Carlo … or when she retired to her guest suite.

Yet for some reason sleep appeared elusive, and despite the comfort of a luxurious bed, she tossed and turned, unable to still an active mind bent on a mental review of Giovanni’s menus, matching ingredients with her own preferred method of preparation, while pondering if her work would meet his rigid standard.

Oh, give yourself a break, she mentally chastised as she listed her qualifications, experience, knowledge.

You’ll be fine.

Sure she would, if only she could get some sleep.

Except after what seemed an endless amount of time, she threw aside the bedcovers, pulled a silk wrap over cotton sleep trousers and vest top, and made her way quietly downstairs to the kitchen.

A hot drink, calming meditative thoughts as she viewed the nightscape had to work.

The hot drink was fine … the meditative thoughts, not so much. As to the nightscape of twinkling street lights vying with coloured neon, the tracery of headlights from moving traffic made for minor distraction.

‘Unable to sleep?’

Lily clutched her cup with both hands in an effort not to spill the remaining contents as she spared a startled glance at the man who moved to stand at her side.

Every nerve-end in her body sprang into alert as she sought to gather a semblance of calm. ‘You’re supposed to be in London.’

In the dim light Alessandro seemed taller, broader, somehow. He’d removed his jacket, his tie, and rolled back his shirt-sleeves. The casual look failed to detract from the masculine intensity he managed to exude without effort. ‘I chose to return home.’

‘To an empty bed at this late hour?’ The words escaped before she gave them thought.

‘Instead of a physically active night in a woman’s arms?’

Lily’s cheeks filled with warm heat, hopefully not visible in the dim light. ‘If that’s your pleasure,’ she managed with a tinge of wry humour.

‘You imagine I bed women indiscriminately, Liliana?’

His teasing use of her full name ignited something deep inside, a sensual flare that threatened to destroy her peace of mind. Even thinking about his powerful male body engaged in intimacy was enough to liquefy her bones.

‘No comment,’ she managed, as if it didn’t matter to her in the slightest, and refused to admit on some deep level that it did.

His soft chuckle curled round her heart and squeezed a little. ‘Beautiful, is it not?’

‘The view?’

‘Of course.’

So why did the unbidden thought occur that it hadn’t been the nightscape to which he’d referred?

‘You are nervous of the day ahead?’

Of course he knew. If Carlo hadn’t relayed the news, then Sophia undoubtedly had.

‘A little,’ she said with innate honesty, and sensed him move to stand behind her.

‘Maybe this will help.’

His hands clasped her shoulders and began to knead the tense muscles, working them with an expertise that reefed a soft sigh from her throat.

It felt good. Dear heaven … so good. She closed her eyes, let her head roll forward, and simply gave in to his ministrations.

She shouldn’t let him do this … shouldn’t enjoy it so much.

Another minute, and I’ll move away and bid him ‘goodnight'.

She did … although it was three minutes, not one.

And it was she who felt bereft as he trailed light fingers down her cheek as she stood momentarily transfixed before she sought to escape.

Alessandro watched her with narrowed eyes and reflected what her reaction might have been if he’d pulled her close and taken her mouth on his own … as he’d been strongly tempted to do.

Lily’s initial reservations were soon dispelled as she was introduced to the kitchen staff, shown where the various cooking implements were located, the contents of the pantry, the cold storeroom … and familiarized herself with the lunch menu.

Beneath Giovanni’s initial supervision, she prepared, diced, sliced poultry, veal, vegetables and tended to the making of fresh pasta.

Concentration and attention to detail kept her focused, and she worked with quick diligence, enjoying the adrenalin surge as the restaurant opened its doors for lunch, and the pace increased dramatically as kitchen staff plated up orders, checked, ready to be collected by the waiters and waitresses on duty and served.

Teamwork at a premium, Lily accorded, discovering Giovanni to be a hard, but fair, taskmaster who didn’t hold back if he declared a dish didn’t reach his standard of perfection.

Fortunately, to her immense relief, no harsh words were directed at her.

Once the desserts were plated, the pressure began to ease.

As the final few clientele departed and the restaurant doors closed, there was time for the ongoing clean-up to restore the kitchen to its former state, a break for kitchen and wait-staff alike, before the need to prepare the evening dinner menu.

Lily earned a discerning nod of approval from Giovanni, and an introduction to the wait-staff, one of whom was an attractive blonde girl in her early twenties from the UK, named Hannah, whose deep blue eyes twinkled with mischievous humour.

The break included a light meal, coffee, then it became necessary to work the kitchen in preparation for the dinner patrons.

Lunch was a walk in the park compared to dinner, which rated among the busiest Lily had experienced in a long time. It reminded her of her sojourn in Paris, with voluble directions uttered by tense kitchen staff when even the slightest delay arose in plating up orders.

Yet it was familiar territory, one around which she’d structured her life and enjoyed, even if it tended to frazzle the nerves on occasion.

However the sense of achievement and satisfaction overrode any temporary moments when things went haywire.

It was late, almost midnight when she removed her apron and cap, and tossed them in the laundry bin.

She checked her cell-phone and opened a text message alerting a car was waiting outside for her.

Giovanni approached her as she collected her bag.

‘The position is yours. You will alternate between the lunch and dinner shifts. Beginning Monday you’ll be on lunch shift to start with. Start time the same as this morning.’ He paused a moment, then offered a faint smile. ‘You work well.’

Her heart lifted a little. ‘Thank you.’

‘Buona notte. ‘

Most of the kitchen staff had already left, and Lily lifted a hand to the two who remained before she exited through the side door.

The sleek car was parked close by and she breathed a sigh of relief as a tall dark figure emerged from behind the wheel and crossed to open the passenger door.

Thank you, Lily breathed silently. A smooth ride to Alessandro’s apartment, a leisurely hot shower, then bed.

She was so caught up with the vision she didn’t immediately notice it was Alessandro, and not Carlo, who held open the door.

He saw the moment she realized who had driven to collect her, glimpsed the way her body stilled for a few seconds before she stepped past him and slid into the passenger seat.

‘Carlo was unavailable?’

Alessandro bit back a wry smile as he crossed to take his position behind the wheel and turned towards her. ‘You would have preferred his company?’

‘He is easy to talk to.’

‘And I am not?’

He held her gaze as she met his own, and wondered if she knew how well he could read her.

‘No.’

A slight smile curved his mouth. ‘Indeed? Perhaps you’d care to elaborate?’

She gave him a sweet smile. ‘No.’

He watched as she leaned her head against the headrest, and sensed her slight sigh as he ignited the engine and eased the car onto the road.

‘Tough day?’

‘Giovanni hired me.’

But he’d put her through her paces. Doubtless she was accustomed to long days in a restaurant of her own, but in a strange kitchen with unfamiliar staff, it would have been more taxing.

‘This is what you want?’

‘Yes.’ It provided a reason for her to stay awhile, and that was a good thing, Lily rationalized as the car purred through illuminated streets.

Oncoming traffic briefly highlighted the hard planes of Alessandro’s facial features, and she became conscious of his hands on the wheel as he handled the road.

There was a latent strength apparent that touched a nerve deep inside … something she attempted to dismiss, and failed.

Once she gained her independence, she’d probably hardly see him at all.

So why did that leave her feeling vaguely bereft?

Tomorrow she’d enlist Sophia’s help and they’d arrange to check out apartments, and shop. She’d need sheets, towels. A car, she added silently. Public transport after the lunch shift would be OK, but late at night? Although there was always a cab.

Lily became so caught up with a to do list it came as a surprise to realize the car had slid to a halt adjacent Alessandro’s apartment building.

The lift transported them swiftly to the designated level, where she preceded him into the softly lit apartment before turning to face him.

‘Thank you.’

She was pale, her eyes darkened with a fatigue she fought hard to control. He should extend a polite acknowledgement, and let her go upstairs to her suite.

‘So … thank me.’ His voice was a husky drawl, and he saw her eyes dilate.

The air grew heavy. charged, almost dangerous, and he caught the increased pulse-beat at the base of her throat. He cupped her chin and traced his thumb pad along the fullness of her lower lip, applied light pressure to its centre, then he trailed a gentle path to settle on the fast-beating pulse.

For a moment she lost all thought, aware on some level that this shouldn’t be happening, yet caught up with the unbidden need to lift her arms around his neck and press her body close in against his own.

Shocked dismay brought a return of sanity as she stepped back in a silent bid to put some distance between them.

He let her go, and she stood transfixed, caught in the thrall of sensual awareness.

It irked that he knew. Worse, that he observed her struggle for composure. Words she wanted to fling at him remained locked in her throat for a few long seconds, then she tilted her head and met his narrowed gaze.

‘Don’t play with me, Alessandro.’

Alessandro remained silent, his dark eyes steady as they locked with her own.

‘I’m not playing.’

He saw her eyes widen with a degree of uncertainty, and pressed home the advantage as he lowered his head and took possession of her mouth.

Gentle at first, teasing, exploring a little as he tempted her response. The need to deepen the kiss was overwhelming, and he ached to pull her in to the cradle of his hips, shape her to his body.

He could, easily … but at what cost?

For two decades he’d trusted his instinct, prior to which his life had been totally dependent on a deeply ingrained gut feeling that had saved him from grievous injury, or worse.

Too much too soon, and he might lose.

With considerable restraint he lightened his touch, lingered a little as he traced the generous curve of her mouth with his own, then he lifted his head and brushed a soft caress to her temple before releasing his hold.

For a heart-wrenching moment she looked lost, almost adrift, then she turned away from him, crossed the room and ascended the stairs without so much as a backward glance.

Sleep proved elusive, as Lily tossed and turned in bed in an attempt to dispel Alessandro’s forceful image, his touch, the sweet sorcery of his kiss. And the way he made her

feel.

At odds with herself, him, and, admit it, torn between desire and the need to contain it.

She wanted a calm, carefree lifestyle. Hadn’t she travelled to Italy to seek just that? No way did she want to be caught up in an emotional whirlpool.

She needed to focus on the positives. A new life, new position, and within days she’d have an apartment and her own car.

Mercifully it was the last thing she remembered as sleep claimed her.