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“I was raised knowing it would be my job, I suppose. I never gave any other career a moment’s thought.”
He pressed the fork into the risotto, but didn’t yet bring it to his lips.
“You don’t strike me as someone who’d have his future dictated to him.”
He was silent as he pushed the fork into his mouth. She held her breath, anxious beyond bearing that he should like the risotto, even when she knew food was completely subjective and his disapproval wouldn’t indicate that the food was in any way substandard. Yet she wanted him to like it more than she could say.
He swallowed, then sat back in his chair, studying her with eyes that were darker than coal.
“This is very good.”
Her heart leaped. “Thanks.”
“I mean it. The saffron is delicate, not overpowering. The champagne gives it a nutty sweetness.”
“Yes,” she smiled, relief flooding her.
“I wouldn’t describe Gianfelice as dictatorial,” he said, after a moment. “He was a proud man. Proud of his family, proud of his business, and he bred that pride into us. The company is our legacy; each of us has taken our part because we want that.”
“And if you’d wanted something else?”
“Then as you say, it would have been very difficult to stop me.”
She nodded. “Why do you live here?”
The question did something to Gabe, so he looked at her with a hint of caution, a reserved cool spreading across his handsome face.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s so remote.”
His lips twisted in silent agreement. She tried some of the risotto, but barely tasted it. It was as though all of her focus was on the man opposite her, on the words he would speak, and those he wouldn’t.
“Is remote bad?”
She considered that. “Not necessarily. But it’s certainly a lifestyle choice.”
“I spend time here, but have other homes.”
She looked around the kitchen, nodding.
“That makes sense, I suppose.”
“You don’t seem convinced.”
Her eyes flared wide at his perceptive response. “Because I think this is where you choose to be more often than not,” she remarked. “I get a sense that you would resent surrounding yourself with people and noise, being in more populous areas. Why?”
“You tell me; that’s your perception.”
“Is it wrong?”
He drank his wine, his response delivered somewhat reluctantly. “Not entirely.”
“So
you like to be on your own.”
“Yes.”
