The Vineyards Of Calanetti. Rebecca Winters
would have someone special waiting at home.
“I see.”
She took three steps back, moving herself away from her own transportation. “I didn’t mean to lead you on.” She groaned and took another step back. “I didn’t think I was leading you on. We were talking like friends.”
He shoved off the car. “We were.”
“So why’d you kiss me?”
He shrugged, as if totally unaffected, though a witch’s brew of emotions careered through him like a runaway roller coaster. “It felt right.” Everything about her felt right, which only annoyed him more.
She took another step away from him. “Well, it was wrong.”
“If you don’t stop your retreat, you’re going to end up back in the tavern.”
She sucked in a breath.
He opened her car door. “Get in. Go home. We’re fine. I don’t want you skittering around like some frightened mouse tomorrow. Let’s just pretend that little kiss never happened.”
He waited, holding open the door for her until he realized she wouldn’t go anywhere near her car while he stood beside it. Anger punched up again. Still, keeping control, he moved away.
She sighed with relief and slid into her car.
He calmly started the walk to his condo, but when he got inside the private elevator he punched the closed door, not sure if he was angry with himself for kissing her or angry, really angry, that she was engaged. Taken.
He told himself not to care. Were they to have an affair, it would have been short because she was leaving, returning to America.
And even if she wasn’t, even if they’d been perfect for each other, he didn’t do relationships. He knew their cost. He knew he couldn’t pay it.
When the elevator doors opened again, he stepped out and tossed his keys on a convenient table in the foyer of his totally remodeled condo on the top floor of one of Monte Calanetti’s most beautiful pale stone buildings. The quiet closed in on him, but he ignored it. Sometimes the price a man paid for success was his soul. He put everything he had into his meals, his restaurant, his success. He’d almost let one woman steal his dream—he wouldn’t be so foolish as to even entertain the thought a second time.
* * *
The next day he worked his magic in the kitchen, confident his attraction to Dani had died with the words I’m engaged. He didn’t stand around on pins and needles awaiting her arrival. He didn’t think about her walking into the kitchen. He refused to wonder whether she’d be happy or angry. Or ponder the way he’d like to treat her to a full-course meal, watch the light in her eyes while she enjoyed the food he’d prepare especially for her...
Damn it.
What was he doing thinking about a woman who was engaged?
He walked through the dining room, checking on the tables, opening the shutters on the big windows to reveal the striking view, not at all concerned that she was late, except for how it would impact his restaurant. So when the sound of her bubbly laugher entered the dining room, and his heart stopped, he almost cursed.
Probably not seeing him in the back of the dining room, she teased with Allegra and Gio, a clear sign that the kiss hadn’t affected her as much as it had affected him. He remembered the way she’d spoken to him the night before. One minute she was sad, confiding, the next she would say something like, “You should stop that.” Putting him in his place. Telling him what to do. And he wondered, really, who had confided in whom the night before?
Walking to the kitchen, he ran his hand along the back of his neck. Had he really told her about his family? Not that it was any great secret, but his practice was to remain aloof. Yet, somehow, wanting to comfort her had bridged that divide and he’d talked about things he normally kept out of relationships with women.
As he approached a prep table, Emory waved a sheet of paper at him. “I’ve created the schedule for Daniella. I’m giving her two days off. Monday and Tuesday. Two days together, so she can sightsee.”
His heart stuttered a bit, but he forced his brain to focus on work. “And just who will seat people on Monday and Tuesday?”
“Allegra has been asking for more hours. I think she’ll be fine in the position as a stand-in until, as Daniella suggested, we hire two people to seat customers.”
He ignored the comment about Daniella. “Allegra is willing to give up her tips?”
“She’s happy with the hourly wage I suggested.”
“Great. Fine. Wonderful. Maybe you should deal with staff from now on.”
Emory laughed. “This was a one-time thing. A favor to Daniella. I’m a chef, too. I might play second to you, but I’m not a business manager. In fact, you’re the one who’s going to take this to Dani.”
Ignoring the thump of his heart at having to talk to her, Rafe snatched the schedule sheet out of Emory’s hands and walked out of the kitchen, into the dining room.
His gaze searched out Dani and when he found her, their eyes met. They’d shared a conversation. They’d shared a kiss. But she belonged to someone else. Any connection he felt to her stopped now.
He broke the eye contact and headed for Allegra. “Emory tells me you’re interested in earning some extra money and you’re willing to be Dani’s fill-in.”
Her eyes brightened. “Sì.”
“Excellent. You will come in Monday and Tuesday for Dani, then.” He felt Dani’s gaze burning into him, felt his face redden with color like a schoolboy in the same room with his crush. Ridiculous.
He sucked in a breath, pasted a professional smile on his face and walked over to Dani. He handed the sheet of paper to her. “You wanted a schedule. Here is your schedule.”
Her blue eyes rose slowly to meet his. She said, “Thanks.”
The blood in his veins slowed to a crawl. The noise in the dining room disappeared. Every nuance of their kiss flooded his memory. Along with profound disappointment that their first kiss would be their last.
He fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut. Why was he thinking these things about a woman who was taken? All he’d wanted was an affair! Now that he knew they couldn’t have one, he should just move on.
“You wanted time off. I am granting you time off.”
He turned and walked away, satisfied that he sounded like his normal self. Because he was his normal self. No kiss...no woman would change him.
Lunch service began. Within minutes, he was caught up in the business of supervising meal prep. As course after course was served, an unexpected thought came to Rafe. An acknowledgment of something Dani had said. He didn’t eat a multicourse lunch. He liked soup and salad. Was Dani right?
* * *
Dani worked her shift, struggling to ward off the tightness in her chest every time Rafe came out of the kitchen. Memories of his kiss flooded her. But the moment of pure pleasure had been darkened by the realization that she had a proposal at home...yet she’d kissed another man. And it had been a great kiss. The kind of kiss a woman loses herself in. The kind of kiss that could have swept her off her feet if she wasn’t already committed.
She went home in between lunch and dinner and joined Louisa on a walk through the house as she mentally charted everything that needed to be repaired. The overwhelmed villa owner wasn’t quite ready to do an actual list. It was as if Louisa needed to get her bearings or begin acclimating to the reality of the property she owned before she could do anything more than clean.
At five, Dani put on the black trousers and white blouse again and returned to the restaurant. The time went more smoothly than the lunch session, mostly because Rafe was too busy