What Love Tastes Like. Zuri Day
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to have you.”
“Grazie, Alberto,” Nick replied. He continued chatting but Tiffany couldn’t understand a word he said. What was perfectly clear, however, was how sexy Nick sounded speaking Italian. She tried not to be impressed, and failed, especially once they stepped inside the extravagantly appointed hotel lobby.
Okay, maybe half my budget, Tiffany thought as they entered. The deep mahogany wood along the walls and the front desk gleamed under the sparkling light from pure gold chandeliers. Tiffany’s feet sank into plush, dark carpeting before the pile gave way to a bronzed, polished marble. All words escaped her as she tried to appear casual and nonchalant in what was rapidly becoming a fairy tale. But reality came crashing down around her when she heard the manager’s response to Nick’s request for a second room.
“I’m sorry, sir, but there are no other rooms available.”
“Excuse me?” Nick responded in English, obviously not used to being told no, no matter what the question.
“All of the rooms are taken, sir. We are sold out,” the manager said, a look pleading for understanding in his eyes. “I can recommend another fine hotel that’s just down the way—”
“Never mind that,” Nick interrupted, silencing the man with a wave of his authoritative hand. And then, seeing the fear in the eyes of an employee not wanting to piss off one of his richest customers, Nick softened. “It’s okay,” he continued in Italian. “I will work it out.” And then he turned to Tiffany. “You’ll stay in my suite.”
“No,” Tiffany said, without hesitation. And once again, the vague feeling of discomfort that had plagued her at various times since their meeting surfaced. “I couldn’t do that,” she slowly continued. Not that bedding down with this fine specimen of human flesh wasn’t tempting—it was. It just wasn’t prudent. Tiffany was here to launch her career into the culinary world, a competitive, all-consuming endeavor. She needed to be ready to meet Chef on Monday morning, and didn’t need to be distracted by fleeting fancies of delusional love.
Nick nodded curtly to the manager before grasping Tiffany’s arm and directing them both away from the desk. “This suite,” he began by way of explanation, “has two bedrooms, two baths, a nice-sized living/dining area, and fully furnished kitchen. You’ll be safe and secure in your own room, which is on the other side of the living room…if that’s what you want.”
“I need my own room, not one in your suite.” Tiffany knew she was hardly in a position to make demands, but the feeling of losing control was increasing, along with her anxiety. She glanced over at Tuffy peeking out of her oversized travel bag, but squelched the urge to reach for teddy bear backup.
Nick followed Tiffany’s gaze and released a long breath. He eyed her critically before walking back over to the desk and speaking to the manager. “He’s checking on the other hotel,” he announced when he rejoined her in the lobby’s sitting area.
They didn’t have long to wait. The hotel manager came over to where they sat, and Tiffany didn’t have to speak Italian to know his search had not been successful.
“There’s a cardiologist conference going on in the area,” Nick translated after he and the manager had spoken. “All of the five-star hotels are booked solid.”
“I don’t have to stay in a five-star hotel,” Tiffany said to the manager. “I’ll take anything.”
Instead of talking to Tiffany, the manager looked at Nick.
Why are you looking at him? Didn’t you just hear me say I’d take anything? Tiffany thought this but did not voice it. No money, no ID, and no place to go were standing in between her and her much-loved independence.
Nick checked his watch. “That’s fine, but we don’t have time for that tonight. You’re welcome to stay in my suite, and if you still want to move to another hotel tomorrow, I’ll be more than happy to help you get settled in one that is more to your liking.”
Tiffany hid a frown, stifled a sigh, and silently followed Nick as he walked over to the front desk to pick up the room keys. What choice do I have? She didn’t like the feeling of helplessness that had accompanied her unspoken decision to share Nick’s suite. This feeling warred with the thought that said she should be grateful that Nick was here to offer her a room. I can’t deny that, she thoughtfully concluded, trying to shake off the angst she felt and replace it with gratitude. After all, it’s just one night. Even so, she lifted Tuffy from the cart just as the bellhop pushed the container bearing their luggage toward the elevator, and snuck another look at the handsome man who’d become her savior. A squiggly feeling slid from her navel to her nana as she eyed the strong, capable hands, one clutching a briefcase, the other, an iPhone. Tiffany clutched the bear, hoping that more than protecting her from Nick, her furry friend could protect her from herself.
4
Later, Tiffany would congratulate herself on not gasping. Nick’s penthouse suite was the most beautiful place she’d ever seen. Unlike the small, almost claustrophobic European rooms she’d seen online and for which she’d prepared herself, this suite was spacious, with towering ceilings and silk-covered walls. A large living-room window offered views of a well-landscaped park and beyond that the sparkling city lights of Rome. A large marble fireplace anchored one wall, while a formal dining room occupied the other end of the rectangular space. The velvet couch and love seat, upholstered in a rich sienna, was soft and inviting—the perfect contrast to the ivory-colored carpeting that anchored the living and dining room area. Beyond that, a deep cherry wood adorned the cabinetry as well as the appliances. Tiffany could only imagine what the bedrooms and bathrooms looked like. She began to feel as if spending twenty-four hours in the lap of luxury might not be such a bad experience after all.
“Do you like it?” Nick asked, basking in the joyful wonder that shone on Tiffany’s face. It pleased him that she was as appreciative of beauty as he was.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I fell in love with it the first time I stayed here. Especially this.” Nick stood at the large picture window and swept his hand to indicate the view of Rome, with the ancient ruins of the Colosseum outlined against a near-dark sky.
“You come here often?” Tiffany walked over and stood by the window.
“Not as often as I’d like. But when I do, I stay here.”
They were silent a moment, taking in the greenery of the landscape, the water spouting from a fountain, a full moon overhead, and the city center’s beckoning lights.
“What brought you here in the first place, to Italy?”
Nick hesitated before answering. The memory of his first visit to Rome, ten years ago, brought with it subtle heartache. That trip was a thirtieth birthday present to himself, one that Angelica had encouraged. They’d been just friends then when she, along with eight of Nick’s good friends, had swept into the Eternal City like a cyclone, partied like it was 1999, took the tours, ate the food, and promptly fell in love with all things Italy.
But as he stared out the window, watching the moon rise higher in the sky, Nick was all too aware that the woman beside him now was not Angelica. She was an exquisite woman-child, vulnerable yet independent, fearful yet determined, with skin the color of rich dark chocolate, the kind that even doctors agreed was good for you. Don’t go there, Nick cautioned himself, even as the thought to do so quickened his heartbeat. Now is not the time.
Nick’s silence caused Tiffany to look away from the sensually dusky scene out the window and over to the picture of perfection standing less than five feet from her. She almost did gasp this time, the reality of her situation suddenly hitting her like a bolt of lightning. She was in the penthouse suite of a luxury hotel in Rome, Italy, with one of the finest men she’d ever seen up close and personal. She guessed he was around six feet tall, solidly built, his muscular frame perfectly proportioned. He had the type of body that in hugging, a woman could lose herself, Tiffany imagined. One that could communicate “Don’t worry, I’ve got you”