The Playboy of Rome. Jennifer Faye
Читать онлайн книгу.
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. Something 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.
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