The Playboy of Rome (17 page)

She kept walking. She didn’t even know how much time had passed when she stopped and looked around. The setting sun’s rays gave the grape leaves a magical glow. Any other time she’d have been caught up in the romantic setting, but right now romance was the last thing on her mind.

She should turn back, but she wasn’t ready to face anyone. Oh, who was she kidding—she wasn’t willing to look into Dante’s eyes and to find that once again in her life, she didn’t quite measure up.

When others looked at her as though she were less than everyone else, she could choke it down and keep going. After all, those people hadn’t meant anything to her. It’d hurt—it’d hurt deeply, but it hadn’t destroyed her. And she’d clung to the belief that whatever didn’t destroy you made you stronger.

But Dante was a different story. A sob caught in her throat. She couldn’t stand the thought of him thinking that she was inept at cooking—the one ability that she’d always excelled in—her one hope to gain his respect.

And now she’d failed. Miserably.

* * *

“Are you serious?”

Dante sent Stefano a hard stare. The main dish Lizzie had prepared was his mother’s trademark dish. She only prepared it on the most special occasions.

“Of course I’m serious. Did you see how all of the color drained from Papa’s face? It was like he’d seen a ghost or something.”

Dante raked his fingers through his hair. “I guess I was too busy watching the horrified look on Lizzie’s face. She worked all day on that meal. She wouldn’t say it but I know that she was so anxious to please everyone—”

“You mean anxious to please you, little brother.”

“Me? Why would she do that?” He wasn’t about to let on to his older brother that anything had gone on between him and Lizzie. No way! He’d never hear the end of it. “We’re working together. That’s all.”

Stefano elbowed him. “Whatever you say.”

Dante leaned forward on the porch rail and stared off into the distance, but there was no sign of Lizzie.

“I just have one question.”

Dante stifled a groan. “You always have a question and most of the time it’s none of your business.”

“Ah, but see, this does have to do with me. Because while you’re standing there insisting that you don’t care about Lizzie, she’s gotten who knows how far away. So is it going to be me or you that goes after her?”

Dante hated when his brother was right. She had been gone a long time. Soon it’d be dark out. He’d attempted to follow her right after the incident, but Massimo had insisted she needed some time alone. But the thing was she didn’t understand what had happened to her special dinner and he needed to explain that it had nothing to do with her. Still, he figured that after her walk she’d be more apt to listen to him.

“Dante, did you hear me?”

He turned and glared at Stefano. “How could I help but hear you when you’re talking in my ear?”

“You’re ignoring the question. Are you going? Or should I?”

“I’m going.”

“You might want to take your car. Hard to tell how far she’s gotten by now.”

“Thanks so much for your expert advice.”

Stefano sent him a knowing smile. “You always did need a little guidance.”

They’d probably have ended up in a sparring match like they used to do as kids, but Dante had more important matters than showing his big brother that he was all grown up now. Dante jumped in Red and fired up the engine. He headed down the lane to the main road, not sure he was even headed in the right direction. No one had watched Lizzie leave, but he couldn’t imagine that she’d go hiking through the fields in a dress and sandals.

He slowly eased the car along the lane, doing his best to search the fields while trying to keep the car from drifting off the road. Thankfully it was a private lane as he was doing a good deal of weaving back and forth.

Where was she?

As he reached the main road, his worries multiplied. Had he missed her? Had she wandered into the fields and somehow gotten lost? He pulled to a stop at the intersection and pounded his palm against the steering wheel. Why had he listened to his grandfather? He should have gone after her immediately.

A car passed by and his gut churned. Was it possible she was so upset that she hitched a ride from a passing motorist? A stranger?

His whole body stiffened. This was his fault. He’d been so upset by her rejection that he’d built up an impenetrable wall between them. Maybe if he hadn’t been so worried about letting her hurt him again, she wouldn’t have been trying so hard to impress him and his family—his dysfunctional family. If he couldn’t please his father—his own flesh and blood—how was she supposed to succeed?

Dante’s gaze took in the right side of the main road, but there was no sign of Lizzie. And then he proceeded to the left, the direction they’d come from the city. That had to be the way she’d gone. He could only hope that she was wise enough to keep to herself and not trust any strangers. If anything happened to her—

He cut off the thought. Nothing would happen to her. She would be fine. She had to be.

And then he spotted the back of her red dress. He let out a breath that had been pent up in his chest. He sent up a silent thank-you to the big man upstairs.

He pulled up next to her and put down the window. “Lizzie, get in the car.”

She didn’t stop walking. She didn’t even look at him. He was in a big mess here. He picked up speed and pulled off the road. He cut the engine and jumped out of the car.

By this point, Lizzie was just passing the car. She was still walking and he had no choice but to fall in step next to her. It was either that or toss her over his shoulder. He didn’t think she’d appreciate the latter option. And he didn’t need any passing motorists calling the
polizia
.

“Lizzie, would you stop so we can talk?”

Still nothing. Her strides were long and quick. His car was fading into the background. He should have locked it up, but he never imagined she’d keep walking.

“What are you going to do? Walk the whole way back to Rome?”

She came to an abrupt halt and turned to him with a pained look. “It’s better than going back and facing your family.”

“Lizzie, they didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just...just that your food surprised them.”

“I know. I saw the looks on their faces. Your father couldn’t get away from the table fast enough. It was as if he was going to be sick.” A pained look swept over her face. “Oh, no. He didn’t get sick, did he?”

“Not like you’re thinking.” Dante really didn’t want to discuss his family’s problems here on the side of the road. “Come back to the car with me. We can talk there.”

She crossed her arms. “We can talk here.”

“Fine. The truth is your cooking was fantastic.”

She rolled her eyes. “Like I’m going to fall for that line.”

She turned to start walking again when he reached out, grabbing her arm. “Wait. The least you can do is hear me out.”

Her gaze moved to his hand. He released his hold, hoping she wouldn’t walk away.

“I’m listening. But don’t feed me a bunch of lies.”

“It wasn’t a lie,” he ground out. “The honest-to-goodness truth is your dinner tasted exactly like my mother’s cooking. At least that’s what I’m told since I never had the opportunity to taste anything she prepared.”

Lizzie pressed a hand to her mouth.

“It seems that particular dish was her favorite. She made it for special occasions—most notably my father’s birthday. He hasn’t had it since she was alive. So you can see how it would unearth a lot of unexpected memories.”

She blinked repeatedly. “I’m so sorry. I never thought—”

“And you shouldn’t have to know these things. It’s just that my family doesn’t move on with life very well. They have a tendency to stick with old stories and relish memories. If you hadn’t noticed, my mother’s memory is quite alive. And Massimo had no clue that the dish was special to my mother and father.”

“I feel so awful for upsetting everyone.”

“You have nothing to worry about. In fact, you might be the best thing that has happened to my family in a very long time.”

Her beautiful blue eyes widened. “How do you get that?”

“My family has been in a rut for many years. And you’re like a breath of fresh air. Instead of them going through the same routine day in and day out, now they have something to look forward to.”

“Look forward to what?”

“To you.”

“Really?” When he nodded, she added, “But the dinner was supposed to be special—for you.”

“For me?” He pressed a hand to his chest. “But why?”

“Because ever since that night when we...uhh...you know...”

“Made love.” It had been very special for him—for both of them. There was no way he could cheapen it by calling it sex. No matter what happened afterward.

“Uh, yes...well, after that you grew cold and distant. I was hoping that this dinner would change that.”

“But isn’t that what you wanted? Distance?”

Her fine brows rose. “Why would you think that?”

Now he had to admit what he’d done and he wasn’t any too proud of it. “I heard you.”

“Heard me say what?”

He kicked at a stone on the side of the desolate road. It skidded into the field. “When I found you gone that morning, I went searching for you. I knew that the night wasn’t anything either one of us planned and I was worried that maybe you’d regretted it.”

“But I didn’t...not like you’re thinking.”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “Let me finish before I lose my nerve.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not proud of what I have to say.”

Her eyes implored him to get to the point.

“After I’d searched the whole apartment including your bedroom and found it empty, I panicked. I’d thought you’d left for good. But then I saw your suitcase. So I went down to the
ristorante
and that’s when I heard your voice. When I moved toward the office, I heard you on the phone. And when you said that what we had was a one-time thing—that it didn’t mean anything—I knew you regretted our lovemaking.”

“Oh, Dante. I’m so sorry you overheard that.”

Hope swelled in his chest. “Are you saying that all of this time I misunderstood?”

Her gaze dipped. “I wish I could tell you that, but I can’t.”

Piercing pain arrowed into his chest. His jaw tightened as he took a step back. He was standing here making a fool of himself for a lady who wanted nothing but to put thousands of miles between them.

“We should get back to the house and get your things.” He turned for the car feeling lower than he’d ever felt in his life.

“Wait! Please.” The pleading tone in her voice caused him to pause. She rushed to his side. “When I said those words, I was in the midst of a panic attack. That night had been so special. It had me reconsidering my future. I didn’t know what I was feeling for you. I just knew that I didn’t want to get hurt.”

“And then I turned around and hurt you by putting so much distance between us.”

She bit down on her lower lip and nodded.

Damn. What he knew about dealing with women and relationships couldn’t even fill up the thimble his father kept on his dresser as a reminder of his mother. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. That’s the last thing in the world I wanted to do.”

“I never wanted to hurt you either. Is there any way we can go back to being friends?”

“I think we can do better than that.” His head dipped and caught her lips.

Not sure that he’d made the right move and not wanting to scare her off, he restrained himself, making the kiss brief. It was with great regret that he pulled away. But when she looked up at him and smiled, he knew that he’d made the right move. There was still something there. Something very special.

“See. Your dinner was very successful. It brought us back together. Thank you for not giving up on me and for going to all of the trouble to get through my thick skull.”

She lifted up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. No way was he letting her get away twice. His arms quickly wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. It seemed like forever since he’d tasted her and held her. He didn’t ever want this moment to end. When she was in his arms, the world felt as if it had righted itself.

The blare of a horn from a passing motorist had Lizzie jumping out of his arms. Color filled her face. “I don’t think we should put on a show for everyone.”

“Why not?” He didn’t feel like being proper at the moment. He had more important things on his mind, like getting her back in his arms. “Who doesn’t enjoy a couple—” he’d almost said “in love” but he’d caught himself in time “—a couple enjoying themselves on a summer evening.”

“Is that what we were doing?”

Not comfortable exploring the eruption of emotions that plagued him when they’d kissed, he didn’t answer her question. Instead he slipped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. “How about you and I head back to the villa?”

“I don’t know. Couldn’t we just go back to the city?”

“But your things are still there.”

She didn’t move. Then he noticed her gaze searching out his car that was a ways back the road. In that moment he knew how to get her back to the vineyard.

He jangled the car keys in front of her. “I’ll let you drive Red.”

Her surprised gaze searched his face. “Are you serious?”

“I’d never joke about driving Red.”

She snatched the keys from his hand and started for the car.

“That’s it?” He started after her. “You just take the keys and don’t say a word. You know I never let anyone drive Red, right?”

“I know. But you owe me.”

“And how do you get that?”

“I put up with your moodiness lately.” She smiled up at him, letting him know that her sense of humor had returned. “And I didn’t complain.”

He stopped in his tracks and planted his hands on his sides. “I wasn’t moody!”

“Oh, yes, you were,” she called over her shoulder. “Worse than an old bear awakened during a snowstorm. You better hurry or you’ll miss your ride.”

“You wouldn’t...”

Then again, she just might, depending on her mood. He smiled and shook his head. Then, realizing that she hadn’t slowed down for him, he took long, quick strides to catch up with her.