The Playboy of Rome. Jennifer Faye
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squelched his overactive, overeager imagination. Something told him that there was a whole lot more to this beautiful woman than her desire to be on television and to brush up on her skills in the kitchen. He saw in her eyes a guardedness. He recognized the look because it was something he’d witnessed with his older brother after his young wife had tragically died. It was a look one got when life had double-crossed them.
Lizzie had traveled to the other side of the globe from her home without knowing a single soul, and from the determined set of her mouth, she wasn’t about to turn tail and run. She was willing to stand her ground. And he couldn’t help but admire her strength.
He just hoped his gut feeling about this woman wasn’t off target. What he had in mind was a bold move. But his grandfather, who’d always been a good judge of character, liked her. He surely wouldn’t have gone out of his way for her if he hadn’t. But that didn’t mean Dante should trust her completely, especially when it came to his grandfather.
Nonno had enough on his plate. Since he’d been struck down by a stroke, he’d been lost in a sea of self-pity. Dante was getting desperate to snap his grandfather back into the world of the living. And plying the man with problems when Nonno was already down wouldn’t help anyone.
“Have you told me everything now? About your agreement with my grandfather.”
She nodded.
“You promise? No more surprises?”
“Cross my heart.” Her finger slowly crossed her chest.
Dante cleared his throat as he forced his gaze upward to meet her eyes. “I suppose I do have a place for you to stay.”
“Lead the way.”
With the main doors locked, he moved next to her on the sidewalk. “It’s right over here.”
He led the way to a plain red door alongside the restaurant. With a key card, the door buzzed and he pulled it open for her. Inside was a small but lush lobby with an elevator and a door leading to steps. He’d made sure to give the building a face-lift when his grandfather handed over the reins to him. That was all it took to draw in eager candidates to rent the one available unit that he’d been occupying until he’d moved into his grandfather’s much larger apartment.
“Where are we going?” She glanced around at the new furnishings adorning the lobby.
“There are apartments over the ristorante.”
A look of dawning glinted in her eyes. “Your grandfather mentioned those. It’s where he intended for me to stay while I am here. Are they nice?”
“Quite nice.” In fact the renovations on his apartment had just been completed.
As the elevator doors slid open, she paused and turned to him. “But I thought you said that you leased the last one.”
“Do you want to see what I have in mind or not?”
She nodded before stepping inside the elevator.
Good. Because he certainly wasn’t going to bend over backward to make her happy. In fact, if she walked away now of her own accord, so much the better. As it was, this arrangement would be only temporary. He’d pacify her until he spoke to his solicitor.
In the cozy confines of the elevator, the faint scent of her floral perfume wrapped around him and teased his senses. If she were anyone else, he’d comment on its intoxicating scent. It was so tempting to lean closer and draw the perfume deeper into his lungs. But he resisted. Something about her led him to believe that she’d want more than one night—more than he was capable of offering her.
The thought of letting go and falling in love made his gut tighten and his palms grow damp. He’d witnessed firsthand the power of love and it wasn’t all sappy ballads and roses. Love had the strength to crush a person, leaving them broken and angry at the world.
He placed a key in the pad, turned it and pressed the penthouse button. The hum of the elevator was the only sound. In no time at all the door swished open, revealing a red-carpeted hallway. He led her to his door, adorned with gold emblems that read PH-1.
Dante unlocked the door and waved for her to go ahead of him. He couldn’t help but watch her face. She definitely wouldn’t make much of a poker player as her emotions filtered across her face. Her blue eyes opened wide as she took in the pillar posts that supported the open floor plan for the living room and kitchen area.
He’d had walls torn down in order to create this spacious area. He may enjoy city life but the country boy in him didn’t like to feel completely hemmed in. He’d paid the men bonuses to turn the renovations around quickly. Though it didn’t come close in size to his family’s home at the vineyard, the apartment was still large—large enough for two people to coexist without stepping on each other’s toes. At least for one night.
She walked farther into the room. She paused next to the black leather couch and turned to him. “Do you live here alone?”
“I do. My grandfather used to live here. When he got sick, he turned it over to me. I made some changes and had everything updated.”
“It certainly is spacious. I think I’d get lost in a place this size.” Her stiff posture said that she was as uncomfortable as he felt.
He wasn’t used to having company. He’d been so busy since his grandfather’s sudden exit from the ristorante—from his life—that he didn’t have time for a social life. In fact, now that he thought about it, Lizzie was the first woman he’d had in here. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that fact.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked, trying to ease the mounting discomfort.
“Yes—you can tell me what I’m doing here.”
Oh, yes. He thought it was obvious but apparently it wasn’t to her. “You can stay here tonight until we can get this whole situation cleared up.”
“You mean when you consent to the contents of this contract.”
His jaw tightened, holding back a string of heated words.
“Don’t look like it’s the end of the world.” Lizzie stepped up to him. “With your good looks, the camera is going to love you. And that’s not to mention the thousands of women watching the segment. Who knows, maybe you’ll become a star.”
Dante laughed. Him a star. Never. Her lush lips lifted. The simple expression made her eyes sparkle like blue topaz. Her pale face filled with color. And her lips, they were plump and just right to lean in and snag a sweet taste. His head started to lower when she pulled back as though reading his errant thoughts.
He cleared his throat and moved to the kitchenette to retrieve a glass. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?”
“I’m fine. Have you lived here long?”
He ran the water until it was cold—real cold. What he really needed to do was dump it over his head and shock some sense back into himself.
“I’ve lived in this building since I moved to Rome. I had a smaller apartment on another floor before moving to this one. You’re my first guest here.” He turned, waiting to hear more about what she thought of the place. “What do you think of it?”
He was genuinely curious about her take on the place. It was modeled in black-and-white decor. With the two colors, it made decorating easier for him. He sensed that it still needed something, but he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly was missing.
“It’s...it’s nice.” Her tone was hesitant.
Nice? The muscles in his neck tightened. Who said “nice”? Someone who was trying to be polite when they really didn’t like something but they didn’t want to hurt the other person’s feelings.
She leaned back on the couch and straightened her legs. She lifted her arms over her head and stretched. He tried to ignore how her blouse