The Playboy of Rome (16 page)

“I miss you, too. But you’ll be home soon.”

“I know. I’m looking forward to it.”

“And here I thought Rome would be your trip of a lifetime. I was worried that you’d fall in love and I’d never see you again.”

Jules was so close to the truth. Perhaps she really could use someone else’s thoughts. “The truth is, Dante and I...we...umm...”

“You slept together?” The awe in Jules’s voice echoed through the phone.

“Yes. But it was a one-time thing. It didn’t mean anything.” In her heart she knew it was a lie, but it was the reassurance Jules needed to hear to keep her calm before her finals. “Don’t worry. I’ll be home soon.”

And the truth was it wouldn’t happen again. They’d gotten away with making love once, but to have a full-blown affair with him would run the real risk of breaking her heart. Already she felt closer to him than any other man she’d ever known.

* * *

It didn’t mean anything.

Those words smacked Dante across the face.

When he’d woken up, he’d reached out and found a cold, empty spot next to him. He’d begun to wonder if he’d just dreamed the incredible night. If it hadn’t been for the impression of Lizzie’s head in the pillow next to his and the lingering floral scent, he might have written it off as a very vivid dream. Maybe that would have been best for both of them.

By the time he’d searched the whole apartment, he’d started to panic. Where could she have gone? Why had she left? Did she regret their moment of lovemaking?

And now as he stood in the doorway with the doorjamb propping him up, his worst fears were confirmed. Lizzie regretted last night. While he was thinking that this could possibly be the start of something, she was thinking that it would never happen again. His gut twisted into a painful knot.

Gone were the illusions that last night meant something special—for both of them. He’d been so wrong about so many things. He knew that Lizzie wouldn’t intentionally hurt him. She had a good heart even though she kept it guarded.

Hearing those painful words was his own fault. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Still, not even Red could drag him away from the spot on the white tiled floor. It was better to hear the truth than to misread things and get lost in some fantasy that wasn’t real.

How could he have been such a fool? He couldn’t believe he’d given in to his desires. He never lost control like that. But when he’d thought she’d finally let down her guard and let him in, he’d gotten carried away. In the end, it had all been in his imagination.

She had only one goal. To finish her job here and return to New York. Well, that was fine with him. She didn’t have to worry about him clinging to her. That wasn’t about to happen. No way.

Finding this out now was for the best. In the end, committed relationships didn’t work out for DeFiore men. One way or another, when one of them got too close, they ended up getting burned. Luckily he’d only gotten singed, unlike his father and brother, who’d had their hearts and lives utterly decimated.

Dante stepped into the office. “So this is where you’re hiding.”

Lizzie jumped and pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m not hiding. And how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough. A more important question is why did you disappear without a word?” He should leave the subject alone but he couldn’t.

His pride had been pricked and it demanded to be soothed. Because his bruised ego had to be what was causing him such discomfort. It couldn’t be anything else. He refused to accept that he’d fallen for a woman who had used him for a one-night stand.

Lizzie’s gaze moved to the papers on the desk. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Because she was horrified by what she’d let happen between them. He stifled a groan of frustration. “Something on your mind?”

Her gaze avoided his. “Uhh...no. I...ah, you must have been right. I had too much caffeine last night.”

He cleared his throat, refusing to let his voice carry tones of agitation. “And you thought you’d come down here and what? Clean up the office?”

Her slender shoulders, the ones he’d rained kisses down on just hours ago, rose and fell. “I thought maybe I could organize it for you.”

“And you were so excited to sort papers that it had you jumping out of bed before sunrise?”

Her gaze didn’t meet his. “I like office work.”

“You must.”

She nodded. “I have a business degree.”

He struggled to keep the surprise from showing on his face. Just one more thing to prove how little he knew about her...and yet he couldn’t ignore the nagging thought that he still wanted to learn more about the beautiful blonde with the blue eyes that he could lose himself in.

He crossed his arms as his gaze followed her around the office as she moved stacks of papers to the desk. “You know, office work isn’t part of the contract.”

“I didn’t know that we were being formal about things.”

“I think it would be for the best. We don’t want to forget the reason you’re here.”

Her forehead crinkled. “If it’s about last night—”

“It’s not. That was a fun night, but I’m sure neither of us plans to repeat it.”
Liar. Liar.

“So we’re okay?” Hope reflected in her eyes.

“Sure.” He was as far from “sure” about this as he could get, but he’d tough it out. After all, he’d given his word. A DeFiore wasn’t a quitter. “You still want to complete the filming, don’t you?”

There was a determined set of her jaw as she nodded. He didn’t want to admit it, but he admired the way she stuck by her commitments, even if she didn’t want to be around him. But there was something more. He peered closer at her, noticing the shadows beneath her eyes.

“You don’t need to waste your time in here.” He didn’t want her wearing herself out on his behalf. “You should get some sleep since you...you were up most of the night. I don’t need you walking around here in a sleep-filled haze.”

“I’ll be fine. I...I don’t sleep much.”

He wasn’t going to argue with her. If she found some sort of comfort in sorting through this mound of paperwork that stretched back more years than he wanted to know, why should he stop her?

“Fine. Sort through as many papers as you like.”

Her brows lifted as her eyes widened. “You mean it?”

“Sure. But I do have one question. How do you plan to sort everything when it’s in Italian?”

She shrugged. “I’ll muddle through. I took Italian in school.”

And yet another surprise. They just kept coming, and without the aid of caffeine, he had problems keeping the surprise from filtering onto his face. He scrubbed his hand over his head, not caring that he was making a mess of his hair.

He noticed the eager look on her face. “Whatever. It has to be done soon anyway if I plan to...”

“Plan to what?”

He couldn’t believe that he’d almost blurted out his plans to sell the
ristorante
. He hadn’t even discussed it with Nonno. There was just something about Lizzie that put him at ease and had him feeling as though he could discuss anything. But obviously the feeling didn’t go both ways.

“Once there’s room, I was planning to move the business files I have upstairs in my study down here.”

“Understood.” She gave him a pointed look. “Before you go, we really should talk about last night—”

“It was late. Neither of us were thinking clearly. It’s best if we forget about it. We still have to work together.”

Her mouth gaped but no words came out. The look in her eyes said there were plenty of thoughts racing round in her mind, but that wasn’t his problem. By admitting it’d been a mistake, he’d beaten her to the punch. That was fine with him.

He refused to think about how she’d discarded him and his lovemaking so readily. Soon she’d be gone. He’d just have to figure out how they could avoid each other as much as possible between now and then.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

P
RETEND
IT
HADN
’
T
HAPPENED
?

Was he kidding? The thought ricocheted through Lizzie’s mind for about the thousandth time since Dante had spoken the words. His solution was paramount to pretending there wasn’t a thousand-pound pink polka-dot elephant in the room. Impossible.

How could he just forget their lovemaking?

As the days rolled into weeks, he acted as though that earth-moving night had never happened. And he didn’t leave her any room to explain or make amends. He only interacted with her on a minimal basis. The easy friendship they’d developed had crashed upon rocky shores. She missed her newfound friend more than she thought possible.

And worse yet, their chilly rapport was now apparent on the filmed segments. The director appeared to be at a loss as to how to regain their easy camaraderie. Their television segment was in jeopardy. And Lizzie couldn’t let things end like this—too much was riding on their success.

While spending yet another sleepless night staring into the darkness, she’d stumbled across an idea. A chance to smooth things out with Dante.

Instead of spending another lonely weekend sightseeing while Dante visited the vineyard, she’d invited herself to accompany him to the country. Armed with an old family recipe she’d found while straightening the office and with Massimo by her side, she’d commandeered the kitchen. She would cook the family a feast and in the process hopefully she’d mend a fence with Dante.

“Do you really think they’ll like it?” She glanced at Massimo as he sat at the large kitchen table near the picture window.

“Don’t you mean will Dante like it?”

The more time she spent with Massimo, the less she noticed his slurred speech and the more he could read her mind. “Yes, I want Dante to like it, too.”

A knowing gleam glinted in the older man’s eyes. “Something is wrong between you two.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact. She glanced away and gave the sauce a stir. She didn’t want Massimo to read too much in her eyes. Some things were meant to stay between her and Dante.

“We’ll be fine.”

Massimo got to his feet and, with the aid of his walker, moved next to her. “Look at me.”

She hesitated before doing as he’d asked. She didn’t know what he was going to say, but her gut told her that it would be important.

“My grandson has witnessed a lot of loss in his life. He’s also been at the wrong end of his father’s grief over losing my daughter. I know all about grief. When I lost my dear, sweet Isabelle, it nearly killed me. It can make a good man say things he shouldn’t. It can cause a person to grow a tough skin to keep from getting hurt again.”

The impact of his words answered so many questions and affirmed her suspicions. “But why are you telling me all of this? It’s none of my business.”

“I see how my grandson looks at you. It’s the same way I looked at his grandmother. But he’s afraid—afraid of being hurt like his father and brother. If you care about my grandson like I think you do, you’ll fight for him.”

“But I can’t. Even if there was something between Dante and me, my life—it’s in New York.”

“Love will always find a way—”

“Mmm... What smells so good?”

Stefano strode into the kitchen, followed closely by Dante and his father. Their hungry gazes roamed over the counter and stove. She shooed them all away to get washed up while she set the dining room table.

Soon all four men were cleaned up in dress shirts and slacks. Thankfully, she’d had a couple of minutes to run to her room and put on a dress. Still, next to these smartly dressed men, she felt underdressed.

“I hope you all like tonight’s dinner. Thanks to Massimo, I was able to cook some old family recipes.”

“I’m sure it will be fantastic,” Dante’s father said as he took a seat at the head of the table.

She wished she was as confident as he sounded. It felt like a swarm of butterflies had now inhabited her stomach as she removed the ceramic lids from the serving dishes. This just had to work. She had to impress them—impress Dante.

She sat back, eagerly watching as the men filled their plates. It seemed to take forever. She didn’t bother filling hers yet. She already knew what everything tasted like as she’d sampled everything numerous times in the kitchen. In fact, she wasn’t even hungry at this point.

But as they started to eat, a silence came over the table. The men started exchanging puzzled looks among themselves. Lizzie’s stomach tightened. What was wrong?

She glanced Dante’s way but his attention was on the food. She turned to Massimo for some sort of sign that all would be well, but before he could say a word, Dante’s father’s chair scraped across the tiles. In the silent room, the sound was like a crescendo.

The man threw down his linen napkin and strode out of the room. Lizzie watched in horror. She pressed a hand to her mouth, holding back a horrified gasp.

Dante called out, “Papa.”

The man didn’t turn back or even acknowledge him.

“Let him go.” Stefano sent Dante a pointed look.

As more forks clattered to their plates, the weight of disappointment weighed heavy on Lizzie. Her chest tightened, holding back a sob. This was absolutely horrific. Instead of the dinner bringing everyone together and mending fences, it’d only upset them.

Unable to sit there and keep her emotions under wraps, Lizzie pushed back her chair. She jumped to her feet, and as fast as her feet would carry her, she headed for the kitchen.

Her eyes stung and she blinked repeatedly. She’d done something wrong. How could she have messed up the recipe? She’d double-checked everything. But her Italian was a bit rusty. Was that it? Had she misread something?

Not finding any solace in the room where she’d created the dinner—the disaster—she kept going out the back door. She had no destination in mind. Her feet just kept moving.

The what-ifs and maybes clanged about in her head. But the one thought that rose above the others was how this dinner was supposed to be her peace offering to Dante. This was what she’d hoped would be a chance for them to smooth over their differences. But that obviously wasn’t going to happen when no one even wanted to eat her food.