Читать книгу The Italians: Alessandro, Luca & Dizo: Alessandro's Prize / In a Storm of Scandal / Italian Groom, Princess Bride - Ким Лоренс, Rebecca Winters - Страница 13

DECIDING what she should wear to dinner involved a mental selection and discard process throughout the day.

There was a gorgeous jade silk chiffon gown with a fitted bodice and bias cut skirt that skimmed her slim curves, fashioned by a noted Australian designer, which she’d packed to bring to Milan, but had not as yet worn.

A matching wrap added a finishing touch, and with her hair pinned in an upswept style, minimum jewellery, killer heels … decision made.

It wasn’t a date, merely the first social engagement without Sophia’s presence, Lily assured herself as she put the final touches to her make-up.

She was ready with minutes to spare, and she caught up her evening purse and headed out to the lounge in time to hear the buzz of the in-house phone.

Alessandro. Yet caution had her checking the visual monitor before relaying she was on her way down.

A clutch of nerves rose in her stomach as the lift descended, and she took a deep calming breath scant seconds before the steel doors opened onto the foyer.

This was just dinner. For four, not à deux.

So chill, smile and have a great time.

Yet she only had to look at him to know she was way out of her depth.

The chiselled facial features, the dark, almost black eyes, which saw much more than she wanted them to. As to his mouth … the memory of how it felt possessing her own was so vivid, she barely controlled a faint quiver.

Deal with it.

And she did, offering a generous smile as she moved to his side. ‘Hi.’ Too bright, too much?

‘Buona sera, Liliana.’

There it was again … Liliana. Did he know what it did to her?

‘Shall we go?’

How was it possible to look forward to sharing dinner with a man who turned her emotions every which way, when all she felt impelled to do was to retreat to safety?

It didn’t make sense.

‘You’re interested in restoring old buildings,’ Lily ventured as they purred through the streets. ‘Are you working on a project at the moment?’

‘Yes. There are various stipulations in place. Permissions to be granted, the submission and approval of plans. The legalities involved. All of which can become a long process.’

‘Bureaucracy and red tape while numerous sources confer, consult and compare,’ she lightly posed, and glimpsed his wry smile.

‘Occasionally for several months.’

‘I imagine patience is key.’

He spared her a glance. ‘You don’t consider me to be a patient man?’

Lily considered him carefully. ‘Perhaps,’ she conceded. ‘If you wanted something enough.’

The man seated at her side was capable of achieving whatever he wanted, by whatever means it took to gain his objective. For beneath the sophisticated exterior was a ruthlessness born from a need to survive at any cost.

A loyal friend, she perceived, but a dangerous adversary.

It didn’t help that she was incredibly aware of him, the primitive sensuality he generated with no seeming effort at all. He had the look of a man who knew everything there was to know about women, what they wanted, needed, and the skill to deliver—in bed, and out of it.

Where had that come from?

Like she needed another man’s touch?

She’d sworn off men, remember? All men.

Especially men of Alessandro’s calibre. With whom even the lightest dalliance would be akin to treading a precarious path through an emotional minefield.

The light touch of his hand at the back of her waist felt warm, almost protective as he guided her towards the bar where Giarda and Massimo were seated.

Giarda stood and brushed her lips to Lily’s cheek. ‘It is so good to see you both,’ she greeted, and repeated the action with Alessandro, with Massimo following suit.

‘We shall have a drink together before moving to our table,’ Giarda indicated, and Massimo’s eyes gleamed with latent humour.

‘My wife likes to be in charge.’

‘Because it amuses you to allow me to do so,’ Giarda responded sweetly.

The chemistry between them was almost palpable, and Lily felt a momentary tinge of envy. They looked so good together, so right. It made her faintly wistful that such a shared passion would be missing from her own life.

Once bitten, twice shy … kind of said it all.

It was interesting to see that both Alessandro and Massimo appeared to be the best of friends, as well as business associates. Any past rivalry had obviously been dispensed with long ago.

The restaurant seemed to be a favourite among the social elite, of whom Massimo, Giarda and Alessandro obviously ranked highly, given the almost obsequious attention accorded them by the maître d’ and wait-staff.

The food was perfection, the presentation superb. On a scale of one to ten, Lily mentally afforded top marks.

They had just finished the main course when Giarda lifted her goblet of wine and took an appreciative sip, then returned the goblet to the table.

‘In a couple of weeks Massimo and I celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary,’ she began, pausing to smile at her husband. ‘We are hosting a party at our Lake Maggiore villa on the Saturday evening, and we want to invite you both for the weekend to share the celebration with us. There will be a Sunday brunch on board as we cruise the lakes. It will be wonderful to have you join us,’ she concluded with genuine warmth.

‘Grazie, Giarda,’ Alessandro said with an affectionate smile. ‘We accept with pleasure.’

Lily’s eyes widened. Hang on a minute, there is no we. Besides, she was rostered to work on Saturday and Sunday for the next few weeks.

‘I’m afraid I’ll have to decline,’ Lily said with regret. ‘I’ll be working the weekend.’

Giarda looked genuinely disappointed for a few seconds, then she smiled. ‘I’m sure if you approach your boss, he will arrange for you to reschedule.’

Saturday evening was usually a restaurant’s busiest night. ‘I don’t think it will be possible.’

‘Lily, promise me you will ask,’ Giarda pleaded persuasively, and Lily inclined her head.

‘I’ll approach the head chef tomorrow.’

‘You could go straight to the top and ask your boss now.’

To place a call on her cell-phone during dinner seemed incredibly impolite, and she was about to say so when Giarda offered quietly,

‘He is seated at this table.’

Lily’s eyes widened with surprise as she cast a startled glance at Massimo, who silently indicated Alessandro.

Alessandro owned the restaurant where she worked?

It took mere seconds for everything to click into place. Sophia’s choice of restaurant for lunch, the opportunity to work there. Happenstance was a fine thing, but in this instance it seemed too coincidental not to have been preplanned.

She cast him a deliberately bright smile before turning towards Giarda. ‘In that case, rescheduling my weekend shift won’t be a problem.’

‘Good. It is settled. We will look forward to seeing you both mid-afternoon.’

‘Thank you,’ Lily added politely. ‘I’ll look forward to

it.’

Somehow she managed to get through the remainder of the evening, although acting a part while inwardly seething took some effort.

It didn’t help when Alessandro placed an arm along the back of her chair as the waitress served them coffee.

A casual gesture, it succeeded in tripping her pulse, not to mention heightening her awareness of him, the refined exclusiveness of his cologne. Dammit, everything about him.

Bidding Giarda and Massimo goodnight involved several minutes as they exchanged pleasantries before parting to collect their car.

Lily waited until Alessandro ignited the engine and they joined the flow of traffic.

‘How did it go down, Alessandro?’ she queried with deceptive lightness. ‘And don’t insult my intelligence by fudging fact.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’

She directed him a dark look, which should have felled him, but had no effect at all. ‘Sophia could have selected any one of many restaurants to share lunch that day.’

‘It concerns you that she chose mine?’

Her eyes flashed in the reflected light of oncoming traffic. ‘Only that it reeks of being a deliberate set-up.’

‘And that angers you?’

‘I dislike being deceived. Or being given an unfair advantage.’

‘You earned your employment,’ he reminded silkily.

‘You’re a professional chef, you own and head a restaurant, and you happen to speak fluent French and Italian.’

‘Tell me … if I’d walked in off the street as an unknown and asked for employment, would I have succeeded?’

‘Probably not.’

Lily’s eyes darkened measurably as he eased to a halt outside her apartment building and cut the engine.

It irked unbearably that he had merely been kind due to his connection with Sophia. Doubtless he viewed it as a duty, and probably found her company boring.

‘No.’

Lily’s eyes flared a little. ‘Excuse me?’

‘No.’ he reiterated quietly as he released his seat belt.

‘You have no idea what—’

‘You’re thinking? Try me.’

He framed her face and lowered his mouth within a hair’s breadth of her own. Then his mouth covered her own, seeking, persuasive, his touch skilful as he tasted the inner sweetness, coaxing until a reluctant groan rose unbidden deep in her throat and she gave in to the need to savour his touch, to exult in the mastery he gifted her.

It was more, so much more than she’d imagined as she became lost … so involved that she whimpered as he began to ease back.

For what seemed an age he simply looked at her, and the breath hitched raggedly in her throat as he smoothed a gentle thumb over her lower lip.

‘Now you understand.’

Did she?

Oh, dear heaven. ‘I can’t. You.’ Her eyes registered stark disbelief, shock … at the passion they’d just shared. ‘I have to …’ She pulled away from him, barely aware that he let her go as she fumbled with the seat belt, then she reached for the door clasp and scrambled out from the car.

Her key. dammit, where was her key?

‘Your purse.’

When had he emerged from behind the wheel and moved to her side?

Somehow she extracted her keys, and she was unaware he moved with her to the main entrance, or that he followed her into the lobby until they reached the lift.

‘Please … just go.’

‘When I’ve seen you safely inside your apartment.’

‘No,’ Lily protested. ‘I’m fine.’

Sure you are. Admit it … you’re an emotional mess.

The lift door slid open and he followed her in, pressed the appropriate button, and regarded her pensively as the lift travelled to her floor.

Without a word he took the keys from her hand and inserted the right key into the lock and opened the door before handing the bunch back to her. ‘Buona notte, cara. I’ll call you tomorrow.’

She shook her head helplessly.

‘Lock the door behind me.’

She did so, her actions on autopilot as she crossed to her bedroom to stand staring sightlessly into space, until reality intervened.

With automatic movements she slid off her stilettos, then she discarded her clothes before entering the en suite.

Her fingers trembled as she removed the pins from her hair and swept it into a loose tail. It was then she caught sight of her reflection and closed her eyes to temporarily block out the image—pale face, huge eyes, a swollen well-kissed mouth.

Oh, my.

Where did she go from here?