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A private dinner.
She had no idea what it meant, but when he emerged from the kitchen and walked to Nico’s table, her breath stalled. He’d removed his smock and stood before the Amatuccis in dark trousers and a white T-shirt that outlined his taut stomach. Tight cotton sleeves rimmed impressive biceps and Dani saw a tattoo she’d never noticed before.
“I trust you enjoyed your dinners.”
Nico blotted his mouth with a napkin, then said, “Rafe, you truly are gifted.”
Rafe bowed graciously.
“And, Marianna.” When Rafe turned to see her half-eaten meal, he frowned. “Why you not eat?”
She smiled slightly. “You give everyone enough to feed an army. Half was plenty.”
“You’ll take the rest home?”
She nodded and Rafe motioned for Allegra to get her plate and put her food in a take-out container.
Rafe chatted with Nico, calmly, much more calmly than Dani felt, but the second Allegra returned with the take-out container, Marianna jumped from her seat.
“I need to get home. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight, but I’m exhausted.”
Nico rose, too. “It is late. Dinner was something of an afterthought. I promised Marianna I’d get her back at a decent hour. But I knew you’d want to see her after her year away, Rafe.”
Rafe kissed her hand. “Absolutely. I’m just sorry she’s too tired for us to catch up.”
Dani frowned. Nico’s little sister didn’t look tired. She looked pale. Biting her lower lip, Dani realized she’d only known one other person who’d looked that way—
Rafe waved her over. “Say good-night to Nico and his sister.”
Keeping her observations to herself, Dani smiled. “Good night, Marianna.”
Marianna returned her smile. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you since Nico loves Rafe’s food.”
Nico laughed, took both her hands and kissed them. “Good night, Daniella. Tell your roomie I said hello.”
Daniella’s face reddened. Louisa had been the topic of most of Nico’s questions when she’d sat with him and his sister, but there was no way in hell she’d tell Louisa Nico had mentioned her. Still, she smiled. Every time she talked to Nico, she liked him more. Which only made Louisa’s dislike all the more curious.
“Good night, Nico.”
After helping Marianna with her coat, Rafe walked his friends to their car. Dani busied herself helping the waitresses finish dining room cleanup. She didn’t see Rafe return, but when a half hour went by, she assumed he’d come in through the back door to the kitchen.
Of course, he could be talking to beautiful Marianna. She might be with her brother, but that brother was a friend of Rafe’s. And Nico had said he wanted to bring Marianna to Mancini’s because he knew Rafe would want to see her. They probably had all kinds of stories to reminisce about. Marianna might be too young to have been his first kiss, his first love, but she was an adult now. A beautiful woman.
Realizing how possible it was that Rafe might be interested in Marianna, Dani swayed, but she quickly calmed herself. If she decided to stay, watching him with other women would be part of her life. She had to get used to this. She had to get accustomed to seeing him flirt, seeing beautiful women like Marianna look at him with interest.
She tossed a chair to the table with a little more force than was necessary.
Gio frowned. “Are you okay?”
She smiled. “Yes. Perfect.”
“If you’re not okay, Allegra and I can finish.”
“I’m fine.” She forced her smile to grow bigger. “Just eager to be done for the night.”
As they finished the dining room, Rafe walked out of the kitchen to the bar. He got a bottle of wine and two glasses. As their private dinner became a reality, Dani’s stomach tightened.
She squeezed her eyes shut, scolding herself. The dinner might be private for no other reason than the restaurant would be closed. Rafe probably didn’t want to be alone with her as much as he wanted her to eat a meal, as hostess, so she could get the real experience of dining at Mancini’s.
The waitresses left. The kitchen light went out, indicating Emory and his staff had gone.
Only she and Rafe remained.
He faced her, pointed at a chair. “Sit.”
Okay. That was about as far from romantic as a man could get. This “private” dinner wasn’t about the two of them having time together. It was about a chef who wanted his hostess to know his food.
She walked over, noticing again how his tight T-shirt accented a strong chest and his neat-as-a-pin trousers gave him a professional look. But as she got closer, Louisa’s high, high heels clicking on the tile floor, she saw his gaze skim the apricot dress. His eyes warmed with interest. His lips lifted into a slow smile.
And her stomach fell to the floor. This was why she’d never quite been able to talk herself out of her attraction to him. He was every bit as attracted to her. He might try to hide it. He might fight it tooth and nail. But he liked her as more than an employee.
She reached the chair. He pulled it out, offering the seat to her.
As she sat, her back met his hands still on the chair. Rivers of tingles flowed from the spot where they touched. Her breath shuddered in and stuttered out. Nerves filled her.
He stepped away. “We’re skipping soup and salad, since it’s late.” All business, he sat on the chair next to hers. He lifted the metal cover first from her plate, then his own. “I present beef brasato with pappardelle and mint.”
When the scent hit her, her mouth watered. All thoughts of attraction fled as her stomach rumbled greedily. She closed her eyes and savored the aroma.
“You like?”
Unable to help herself, she caught his gaze. “I’m amazed.”
“Wait till you taste.”
He smiled encouragingly. She picked up her fork, filled it with pasta and slid it into her mouth. Knowing he’d made this just for her, the ritual seemed very decadent, very sensual. Their eyes met as flavor exploded on her tongue.
“Oh, God.”
He grinned. “Is good?”
“You know you don’t even have to ask.”
He sat back with a laugh. “I was top of my class. I trained both in Europe and the United States so I could ascertain the key to satisfying both palates.” He smiled slowly. “I am a master.”
She sliced off a bit of the beef. It was so good she had to hold back a groan. “No argument here.”
“Wait till you taste my tiramisu.”
“No salad but you made dessert?”
He leaned in, studied her. “Are you watching your weight?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Then prepare to be taken to a world of decadence.”
She laughed, expecting him to pick up his fork and eat his own meal. Instead, he stayed perfectly still, his warm eyes on her.
“You like it when people go bananas over your food.”
“Of course.”
But that wasn’t why he was studying her. There was a huge difference between pride in one’s work and curiosity about an attraction and she knew that curiosity when she saw it.
She put down her fork, caught in his gaze, the moment. “What are we really doing here, Rafe?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
“You aren’t staring at me like someone who wants to make sure I like his food.”
“You are beautiful.”
Her heart shivered. Her eyes clung to his. She wanted him to have said that because he liked her, because he was ready to do something about it. But a romance between them would be a disaster. She’d be hurt. She’d have to leave Monte Calanetti. She could not take anything he said romantically.
Forking another bite of food, she casually said, “Beauty doesn’t pay the rent.”
His voice a mere whisper, he said, “Why do you tease me?”
Her face fell. “I don’t tease you!”
“Of course, you do. Every day you dress more beautifully, but you don’t talk to me.”
“I’m smart enough to stay away when a guy warns me off.”
“Yet you tell me I must be prepared for you to stay.”
“Because you...” Like me. She almost said it. But his admitting he liked her would be nothing but trouble. He might like her in the moment, but he wouldn’t like her forever. It was stupid to even have that discussion.
She steered them away from it. “Because if I stay, no more firing me. You’re getting me permanently.”
“You keep saying that as if I should be afraid.” He slid his arm to the back of her chair. His fingers rose to toy with the blunt line of her chin-length hair. “But your staying is not a bad thing.”
The wash of awareness roaring through her disagreed. If she fell in love with him, her staying would be a very bad thing. His touching her did not help matters. With his fingers brushing her hair, tickling her nape, she couldn’t move...could barely breathe.
His hand shifted from her hairline and wrapped around the back of her neck so he could pull her closer. She told herself to resist. To be smart. But something in his eyes wouldn’t let her. As she drew nearer, he leaned in. Their gazes held until his lips met hers, then her eyelids dropped. Her breathing stopped.
Warm and sweet, his lips brushed her, and she knew why she hadn’t resisted. She so rarely got what she wanted in life that when tempted she couldn’t say no. It might be wrong to want him, but she did.
His hand slid from her neck to her back, twisting her to sit sideways on her chair. Her arms lifted slowly, her hands hesitantly went to his shoulders. Then he deepened the kiss and her mind went blank.
It wasn’t so much the physical sensations that robbed her of thought but the fact that he kissed her. He finally, finally kissed her the way he had the night he’d walked her to her car.
When he thought she was free.
When he wanted there to be something between them.
The kiss went on and on. Her senses combined to create a flood of need so strong that something unexpected suddenly became clear. She was already in love with Rafe. She didn’t have to worry that someday she might fall in love. Innocent and needy as she was, she had genuinely fallen in love—
And he was nowhere near in love with her.
He was strong and stubborn, set in his ways. He said he didn’t do relationships. He said he didn’t have time. He’d told her he hurt women. And if he hurt her, she’d never be able to work for him.
Did she want to risk this job for a fling?
To risk her new friends?
Did she want to be hurt?
Hadn’t she been hurt, rejected enough in her life already?
She jerked away from him.
He pulled away slowly and ran his hand across his forehead. “Oh, my God. I am so sorry.”
“Sorry?” She was steeped in desire sprinkled with a healthy dose of fear, so his apology didn’t quite penetrate.
“I told you before. I do not steal other men’s women.”
“Oh.” She squeezed her eyes shut. Paul was such a done deal for her that she’d taken him out of the equation. But Rafe didn’t know that. For a second she debated keeping up the charade, if only to protect herself. But they had hit the point where that wasn’t fair. She couldn’t let Rafe go on thinking he was romancing another man’s woman. Especially not when she had been such a willing participant.
She sucked in a breath, caught his gaze and quietly said, “I’m not engaged.”
Rafe sat up in his chair. “What?”
She felt her cheeks redden. “I’m not engaged.”
His face twisted with incredulity. “You lied?”
“No.” She bounced from her seat and paced away. “Not really. My boyfriend had asked me to marry him. I told him I needed time to think about it. I was leaving for Italy anyway—”
He interrupted her as if confused. “So your boyfriend asked you to marry him and you ran away?”
She swallowed. “No. I inherited the money for a plane ticket to come here to find Rosa’s relatives and I immediately tacked extra time onto my teaching tour. All that had been done before Paul proposed.”
“So his proposal was a stopgap measure.”
She frowned. “Excuse me?”
“Not able to keep you from going to Italy, he tied you to himself enough that you would feel guilty if you got involved with another man while you were away.” He caught her gaze. “But it didn’t work, did it?”
She closed her eyes. “No.”
“It shouldn’t have worked. It was a ploy. And you shouldn’t feel guilty about anything that happened while you were here since you’re really not engaged.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. I called him after we returned from Rome and officially rejected his proposal.”
“You told him no?”
She nodded. “And told him I might be staying in Italy.” She sucked in a breath. “He wished me luck.”
Rafe sat back in his chair. “And so you are free.” He combed his fingers through his hair. Laughed slightly.
The laugh kind of scared her. She’d taken away the one barrier she knew would protect her. All she had now to keep her from acting on her love for him was her willpower. Which she’d just proven wasn’t very strong.
“I should go.”
His gaze slowly met hers. “You haven’t finished eating.”
His soulful eyes held hers and her stomach jumped. Everything about him called to her on some level. He listened when she talked, appreciated her work at his restaurant...was blisteringly attracted to her.
What the hell would have happened if she hadn’t broken that kiss? What would happen if she stayed, finished her meal, let them have more private time? With Paul gone as protection, would he seduce her? And if she resisted...what would she say? Another lie? I don’t like you? I’m not interested? I don’t want to be hurt?
The last wasn’t a lie. And it would work. But she didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to hear him tell her one more time that he couldn’t commit. She didn’t want this night to end on a rejection.
“I want to go home.”
His eyes on her, he rose slowly. “Let’s go, then. I will clean up in the morning.”
Finally breaking eye contact, she walked to the front of Mancini’s to get her coat. Her legs shook. Her breaths hurt. Not because she knew she was probably escaping making love, but because he really was going to hurt her one day.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE NEXT MORNING, Rafe was in the dining room when Dani used her key to unlock the front door and enter Mancini’s. Around him, the waitresses and busboys busily set up tables. The wonderful aromas of his cooking filled the air. But when she walked in, Dani brought the real life to the restaurant. Dressed in a red sweater with a black skirt and knee-high boots, she was just the right combination of sexy and sweet.
And she’d rejected him the night before.
Even though she’d broken up with her man in America.
Without saying good morning, without as much as meeting her gaze, he turned on his heel and walked into the kitchen to the prep tables where he inspected the handiwork of two chefs.
He waved his hand over the rolled-out dough for a batch of ravioli. “This is good.”
He tasted some sauce, inclined his head, indicating it was acceptable and headed for his workstation.
Emory scrambled over behind him. “Is Daniella here?”
“Yes.” But even before Rafe could finish the thought, she pushed open the swinging doors to the kitchen and entered. She strolled to his prep table, cool and nonchalant as if nothing had happened between them.
But lots had happened between them. He’d kissed her. And she’d told him she didn’t have a fiancé. Then she’d run. Rejecting him.
“Good morning.”
He forced his gaze to hers. His eyes held hers for a beat before he said, “Good morning.”
Emory caught her hands. “Did you enjoy your dinner?”
She laughed. “It was excellent.” She met Rafe’s gaze again. “Our chef is extraordinary.”
His heart punched against his ribs. How could a man not take that as a compliment? She hadn’t just eaten his food the night before. She’d returned his kiss with as much passion and fervor as he’d put into it.
Emory glowed. “This we know. And we count on you to make sure every customer knows.”
“Oh, believe me. I’ve always been able to talk up the food from the bites you’ve given me. But eating an entire serving has seared the taste of perfection in my brain.”
Emory grinned. “Great!”
“I think our real problem will be that I’ll start stealing more bites and end up fat as a barrel.”
Emory laughed but Rafe looked away, remembering his question from the night before. Are you watching your weight? One memory took him back to the scene, the mood, the moment. How nervous she’d seemed. How she’d jumped when his hand had brushed her back. How her jitters had disappeared while they were kissing and didn’t return until they’d stopped.
Because she had to tell him about her fiancé.
She wasn’t engaged.
She had responded to him.
Emory laughed. “Occupational hazard.”
Her gaze ambled to Rafe’s again. All they’d had the night before was a taste of what could be between them. Yes, he knew he’d warned her off. But she’d still kissed him. He’d given her plenty of time to move away, but she’d stayed. Knowing his terms—that he didn’t want a relationship—she’d accepted his kiss.
With their gazes locked, she couldn’t deny it. He could see the heat in her blue eyes.
“From here on out, when we create a new dish or perfect an old one,” Emory continued, oblivious to the nonverbal conversation she and Rafe were having, “you will sample.”
“I want her to have more than a sample.”
The words sprang from him without any thought. But he wouldn’t take them back. He no longer wanted an affair with her. He now longed for it, yearned for it in the depths of his being. And they were adults. They weren’t kids. Love affairs were part of life. She might get hurt, or because they were both lovers and coworkers, she might actually understand him. His life. His time constraints. His passion for his dream—
She might be the perfect lover.
The truth of that rippled through him. It might not be smart to gamble with losing her, but he didn’t think he’d lose her. In fact, he suddenly, passionately believed a long-term affair was the answer to their attraction.
“And I know more than a sample would be bad for me.” She shifted her gaze to Emory before smiling and walking out of the kitchen.
Rafe shook his head and went back to his cooking. He had no idea if she was talking about his food or the subtle suggestion of an affair he’d made, but if she thought that little statement of hers was a deterrent, she was sadly mistaken.
Never in his life had he walked away from something he really wanted and this would not be an exception. Especially since he finally saw how perfect their situation could be.
* * *
Dani walked out of the kitchen and pressed her hand to her jumpy stomach. Those silver-gray eyes could get more across in one steamy look than most men could in foreplay.
To bolster her confidence, which had flagged again, she reminded herself of her final thoughts as she’d fallen asleep the night before. Rafe was a mercurial man. Hot one minute. Cold the next. And for all she knew, he could seduce her one day and dump her the next. She needed security. Mancini’s could be that security. She would not risk that for an affair. No matter how sexy his eyes were when he said it. How deep his voice.
She walked to the podium. Two couples awaited. She escorted them to a table. As the day wore on, customer after customer chatted with her about their tours or, if they were locals, their homes and families. The waitstaff laughed and joked with each other. The flow of people coming in and going out, eating, serving, clearing tables surrounded her, reminded her that this was why she wanted to stay in Italy, at Mancini’s. Not for a man, a romance, but for a life. The kind of interesting, fun, exciting life she’d never thought she’d get.
She wanted this much more than she wanted a fling that ended in a broken heart and took away the job she loved.
At the end of the night, Emory came out with the white pay envelopes. He passed them around and smiled when he gave one to Dani. “This will be better than last time.”
“So my raise is in here?”
“Yes.” He nodded once and strode away.
Dani tucked the envelope into her skirt pocket and helped the waitresses with cleanup. When they were done, she grabbed her coat, not wanting to tempt fate by being the only remaining employee when Rafe came out of the kitchen.
She walked to her car, aware that Rafe’s estimation of her worth sat by her hip, half afraid to open it. He had to value her enough to pay her well or she couldn’t stay. She would not leave the security of her teaching job and an apartment she could afford, just to be scraping by in a foreign country, no matter how much she loved the area, its people and especially her job.
After driving the car into a space in Louisa’s huge garage, Dani entered the house through the kitchen.
Louisa sat at the table, enjoying her usual cup of tea before bedtime. “How did it go? Was he nice? Was he romantic? Or did he ignore you?”
Dani slipped off her coat. “He hinted that we should have an affair.”
“That’s not good.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not letting him change the rules he made in Rome. He said that for us to work together there could be nothing between us.” She sucked in a breath. “So he can’t suddenly decide it’s okay for us to have an affair.”
Louisa studied her. “I think you’re smart to keep it that way, but are you sure it’s what you want?”
“Yes. Today customers reminded me of why I love this job. Between lunch and dinner, I worked with Emory to organize the schedule for ordering supplies and streamline it. He showed me a lot of the behind-the-scenes jobs it takes to make Mancini’s work. Every new thing I see about running a restaurant seems second nature to me.”
“And?”
“And, as I’ve thought all along, I have instincts for the business. This could be more than a job for me. It could be a real career. If Rafe wants to risk that by making a pass at me, I think I have the reasoning set in my head to tell him no.”
Louisa’s questioning expression turned into a look of joy. “So you’re staying?”
“Actually—” she waved the envelope “—it all depends on what’s in here. If my salary doesn’t pay me enough for my own house or condo, plus food and spending money, I can’t stay.”
Louisa crossed her fingers for luck. “Here’s hoping.”
Dani shook her head. “You know, you’re so good to me I want to stay just for our friendship.”
Louise groaned. “Open the darned thing already!”
She sliced a knife across the top of the envelope. When she saw the amount of her deposit, she sat on the chair across from Louisa. “Oh, my God.”
Louisa winced. “That bad?”
“It’s about twice what I expected.” She took a breath. “What’s he doing?”
Louisa laughed. “Trying to keep you?”
“The amount is so high that it’s actually insulting.” She rose from her seat, grabbed her coat and headed for the door. “Half this check would have been sufficient to keep me. This amount? It’s—offensive.” Almost as if he was paying her to sleep with him. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words to Louisa. But how coincidental was it that he’d dropped hints that he wanted to have an affair, then paid her more money than she was worth?
The insult of it vibrated through her. The nerve of that man!
“Where are you going?”
“To toss this back in his face.”
Yanking open the kitchen door, she bounded out into the cold, cold garage. She jumped into the old car and headed back to Monte Calanetti, parking on a side street near the building where Rafe had shown her the almost-perfect condo.
But as she strode into the lobby, she remembered she needed a key to get into the elevator that would take her to the penthouse. Hoping to ask the doorman for help, she groaned when she saw the desk was empty.