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‘I thought all you could cook was omelette?’ She used humour to try and disguise just how confused she was feeling, and he returned the smile as he strolled across the room towar
ds her.
‘I haven’t exactly cooked,’ he confessed, glancing at the table with a wry smile. ‘And we both know that my omelette was inedible.’
Another point in his favour. He obviously had no problem admitting when he wasn’t good at something.
‘Well, this looks fantastic.’ There was a delicious-smelling soup, crusty bread and various cold meats and salads. Her smile was teasing. ‘For an unreconstructed Italian male, you’re obviously good in the kitchen.’
‘I am very good in the kitchen, cara mia.’ Suddenly the temperature of the room seemed to shoot up and his eyes gleamed wickedly. ‘And so are you, if my memory is correct.’
‘Luca, for goodness’ sake…’ She blushed deeply but couldn’t look away from his compelling gaze.
‘I was late home from work and I’d ruined your dinner.’ His soft voice caressed her nerve endings. ‘Do you remember that night, Tia?’
Of course she remembered that night.
The minute he’d walked through the door their dinner had been forgotten.
‘Luca…’ His name was almost a plea on her lips and she felt sexual heat curl deep inside her stomach.
He slid a hand behind her head and gently forced her to look at him. ‘It has always been like that between us, has it not?’ His voice was husky with desire and his eyes slid to her mouth.
For endless seconds they stood still, both battling against the physical force which drew them together, then Luca released her suddenly and stalked to the other side of the kitchen.
‘I must have been mad to agree to the no-touching rule.’ His voice was a frustrated growl and he dragged both hands through his black hair, his eyes stormy. ‘Maybe I should check into a hotel until we decide that our relationship can move forward.’
Tia felt her heart lurch uncomfortably in her chest. Would it move forward? She wasn’t sure.
‘We were supposed to spend the evening talking,’ she reminded him, a small smile of satisfaction touching her mouth as she registered his tension.
It was good to know that, physically at least, he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
‘Talking.’ The corner of his mouth quirked and he shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘OK. Maybe if you sit at one end of the table and I sit at the other…’
Tia slid into a chair and concentrated on the food. Suddenly talking didn’t seem as easy as it had sounded. She could barely keep her body functioning properly when she was in the same room as the man, let alone hold a conversation. She wanted Luca so much it was a physical ache.
‘What shall we talk about?’ Her voice came out as a squeak and she cursed herself as she read the gleam in his eyes. He was totally aware of the effect he had on her.
‘You.’ He leaned back in his chair at the opposite end of the table, thick, dark lashes shielding his expression as he watched her. ‘You are a very private person, Tia. I want to know more about you. A great deal more.’
His speculative dark gaze made her feel like a dizzy teenager. ‘There’s not much to know,’ she hedged, and he gave a short laugh.
‘Tia, we are both in agreement that we have spent insufficient time talking. For example, I know nothing about your family. All you told me was that your parents died when you were young. Do you have no other family?’
She played with her soup self-consciously.
She really wasn’t used to talking about her childhood.
‘No.’ She scrabbled in her mind for a change of subject. ‘Unlike you, who are surrounded by family.’
He inclined his head in agreement, a rueful smile touching his firm mouth. ‘A mixed blessing, as you’ve discovered.’
Tia glanced at him. ‘I bet they’re not too pleased that you’ve chased me to England.’
He gave a careless shrug. ‘I have no idea what they think. I’m not in the habit of seeking their approval. My father died when I was twelve and I’ve been making my own decisions ever since.’
She stared at him, beginning to understand why he was so self-assured.
