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‘Are you coming?’ Alessio bit out, impatience pulsing off his body.
Giada rose, then felt even more self-conscious when the boa fell away, leaving her once more with several acres of skin on show.
Whether that was why Alessio’s hand tightened on the handle or because this whole situation was highly vexing him, she chose not to examine as she crossed the room.
‘Food sounds great. Thanks!’
Without replying, he walked off, leaving her to follow.
Beyond the study lay a sumptuous dining room, all twelve places set with exquisite silver-and-grey-toned tableware that complemented the soft grey velvety chairs and smoked-glass table.
Alessio bypassed it, heading deeper into the chalet, to what she discovered was a masterpiece kitchen, complete with a wide island with further places set.
As Johan had detailed, a long side cabinet held several heating domes emitting incredible aromas, while, on another side, cold dishes were served on silver platters.
The large spread gave Giada pause. ‘This seems a lot for two people. Are you expecting company?’ Why did the thought of him entertaining guests, maybea woman, make something sharp catch in her midriff?
Alessio paused on his way to the charcuterie board holding at least ten kinds of ham, cheese, olives and mouth-watering golden tarts. He grabbed one tart and tossed it into his mouth before turning sideways to glance at her. ‘Would that have stopped you from striking your deal with me?’
‘Of course not. But I don’t recall you cancelling any plans either, so...’
Why the question brought a bite of irritation to his face, she discovered a second later. ‘My brother has been using the chalet for the last week. His guests drift in and out as they please. I didn’t plan on staying this long when I arrived on Friday. He was supposed to return to Sicily with me.’ His eyes sharpened. ‘But then you know most of that already, don’t you?’ he tagged on, a chilled note in his voice.
It was one question she could answer guilt-free. ‘No, I really didn’t.’
Gigi had made a wild guess on Switzerland, but she’d also mentioned Alessio had winter chalets in Val-d’Isère and Aspen, all rarely used by the workaholic billionaire. She didn’t know why her sister had settled on Gstaad and she was glad she hadn’t asked.
Alessio slanted her a disbelieving look before turning to fill his plate.
Giada chose to remain on her side of the kitchen.
The first cloche offered up a mouth-watering dish of thick lobster bisque with warm, rich rolls, the next a stuffed vegetable pie that suffused the air with garlic and rosemary. Grilled cutlets of lamb and feta almost made her groan in delight.
She helped herself to the bisque and added a salad, then joined Alessio at the kitchen island. Since he didn’t seem in the mood for further conversation, she busied herself with unfurling her napkin and pouring herself a glass of water.
Then, the aromas growing irresistible, she took the first bite. She couldn’t help herself. She moaned, indescribably good flavours exploding on her tongue.
Alessio’s hand tightened around his fork, then he jerked to his feet and stalked away without a word.
Giada watched him leave, her skin jumping with trepidation. She was slowly chewing another mouthful, wondering what had happened, when he returned. She refused to acknowledge the tiny burst of relief when he held up a bottle of red.
She was no wine connoisseur but just by reading the label even she knew the rare vintage he held was worth several thousand euros.
‘I’m assuming this is to your liking? If you prefer cheap champagne, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.’
She exhaled in a rush, fire lighting her belly at his edgy dig. ‘This is getting old very quickly. It’s clear you’re in a terrible mood but I suspect it’s not all down to me and this situation we find ourselves in, so can you please stop piling on me?’
Fierce eyebrows clamped thunder on his features. ‘Piling...on you?’ he echoed with a puzzled rasp, fingers curling around the neck of the bottle.
The weirdest thing happened.
Giada laughed, the burst of mirth erupting from the depths of her frayed nerves.
Alessio’s eyes widened. Right before his golden eyes darkened and latched onto her mouth.
‘It means—’
‘I have a fair idea what it means, Miss Parker,’ he interjected, his voice still curiously husky. A moment later, he exhaled. ‘You’re correct. It’s not often I let other matters get in the way of what I want.’
