Page 28 of The Playboy of Rome


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His gaze dipped to her pink frosted lips. Oh, yes, he definitely wanted to continue that kiss. He wanted it to go on and on. “No. That’s not what I’m saying. Quit putting words in my mouth.”

Her eyes flashed her disbelief. “I only call ’em like I see ’em.”

“It has nothing to do with the kiss. I’d already forgotten about it.” No, he hadn’t. Not in the least. “It’s just...”

“Just what?” Lines bracketed her icy blue eyes as she waited for his answer.

“I just don’t know if you understand what will be expected from you.”

“You mean you think I’m just another pretty face without anything between my ears.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that. There you go again, making assumptions.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I have my way of doing things. And I expect you to pay attention to the details—no matter how small or meaningless you might find them.” He needed time alone to get his head on straight. There was a lot here to consider. “I’m going to my office. We’ll talk more later.”

“Do you mind if I go downstairs and have a look around. I want to know what I’m getting myself into.”

“Be my guest. Here’s the key.” He tossed her a key card and rattled off the security pass code.

Her lips pressed into a firm line as she clutched the key card and turned for the door. He stood there in the kitchenette. He couldn’t turn away as his gaze was latched on the gentle sway of her hips as she strode away. His pulse raced and memories of holding her and tasting her sweet kisses clouded his mind. How had he ever found the willpower to let her go?

The snick of the door closing snapped Dante back to the here and now. What was so different about her? He’d dated his share of women and none of them had gotten to him like her. But if there was any possibility of them working together and sharing this apartment, he needed to see her as just another coworker. Someone who couldn’t get under his skin and give him that overwhelming urge to scratch his itch. Because that would only lead them both into trouble as had already happened back at the vineyard.

He should just show Lizzie the door and forget trying to fulfill his grandfather’s wishes. If he was logical, that was what he’d do. But when it came to family, nothing was logical.

Combine that with the desperation he’d witnessed in Lizzie’s gaze, and he felt an overwhelming urge to find a way to make this work for both of them. But could he keep his hormones in check around her? Suddenly his apartment wasn’t looking so big after all.

* * *

She’d prove him wrong.

Lizzie strode into the impressive kitchen of Ristorante Massimo. It was more spacious than it had appeared on television. And she immediately felt at home surrounded by the stainless-steel appliances. She just wished that Massimo would be there instead of his stubborn grandson.

But she had a plan. She was going to prove to Dante that she was talented—that she could hold up her end of the agreement. She looked over the ingredients in the fridge and the freezer. Slowly a dinner menu took shape in her mind. She didn’t want it to be pasta as she didn’t want to compete in his arena. No, she would whip up something else.

She set to work, anxious to prove to Dante that she belonged here in Massimo’s kitchen. She had the ability; she just needed to broaden her horizons with new culinary skills.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when she heard a sound behind her. She turned and jumped when she saw Dante propping himself up in the doorway.

“What are you doing there?” She set aside the masher she’d used to whip up the cauliflower.

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that question.”

She glanced around at the mess she’d created. Okay, so she wasn’t the neatest person in the kitchen. But to be honest, she had seen worse. And she was in a hurry. She’d wanted it all to be completed before he arrived. So much for her plan.

“I thought I’d put together dinner.”

He walked closer. “And what’s on the menu?”

She ran over and pressed a hand to his chest to stop him. The warmth from his body and the rhythm of his heart sent tingles shooting up her arm. Big mistake. But her heart wasn’t listening to her head. A bolt of awareness struck her and all she could think about was stepping a little closer. The breath caught in her throat as she looked up at his tempting lips.

Memories of his caresses dominated her thoughts. She’d never been kissed like that before. It had meaning. It had depth. And it had left her longing for more. But this wasn’t the time or the place. She had to make a point with him. And caving in to her desires would not help her cause.

She pulled her hand back. “I have a table all set in the dining room. Why don’t you go make yourself comfortable? The food will be in shortly.”

He strained his neck, looking around. “Are you sure I shouldn’t stay and help?”

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