The Vineyards Of Calanetti. Rebecca Winters
done for the night.”
As they finished the dining room, Rafe walked out of the kitchen to the bar. He got a bottle of wine and two glasses. As their private dinner became a reality, Dani’s stomach tightened.
She squeezed her eyes shut, scolding herself. The dinner might be private for no other reason than the restaurant would be closed. Rafe probably didn’t want to be alone with her as much as he wanted her to eat a meal, as hostess, so she could get the real experience of dining at Mancini’s.
The waitresses left. The kitchen light went out, indicating Emory and his staff had gone.
Only she and Rafe remained.
He faced her, pointed at a chair. “Sit.”
Okay. That was about as far from romantic as a man could get. This “private” dinner wasn’t about the two of them having time together. It was about a chef who wanted his hostess to know his food.
She walked over, noticing again how his tight T-shirt accented a strong chest and his neat-as-a-pin trousers gave him a professional look. But as she got closer, Louisa’s high, high heels clicking on the tile floor, she saw his gaze skim the apricot dress. His eyes warmed with interest. His lips lifted into a slow smile.
And her stomach fell to the floor. This was why she’d never quite been able to talk herself out of her attraction to him. He was every bit as attracted to her. He might try to hide it. He might fight it tooth and nail. But he liked her as more than an employee.
She reached the chair. He pulled it out, offering the seat to her.
As she sat, her back met his hands still on the chair. Rivers of tingles flowed from the spot where they touched. Her breath shuddered in and stuttered out. Nerves filled her.
He stepped away. “We’re skipping soup and salad, since it’s late.” All business, he sat on the chair next to hers. He lifted the metal cover first from her plate, then his own. “I present beef brasato with pappardelle and mint.”
When the scent hit her, her mouth watered. All thoughts of attraction fled as her stomach rumbled greedily. She closed her eyes and savored the aroma.
“You like?”
Unable to help herself, she caught his gaze. “I’m amazed.”
“Wait till you taste.”
He smiled encouragingly. She picked up her fork, filled it with pasta and slid it into her mouth. Knowing he’d made this just for her, the ritual seemed very decadent, very sensual. Their eyes met as flavor exploded on her tongue.
“Oh, God.”
He grinned. “Is good?”
“You know you don’t even have to ask.”
He sat back with a laugh. “I was top of my class. I trained both in Europe and the United States so I could ascertain the key to satisfying both palates.” He smiled slowly. “I am a master.”
She sliced off a bit of the beef. It was so good she had to hold back a groan. “No argument here.”
“Wait till you taste my tiramisu.”
“No salad but you made dessert?”
He leaned in, studied her. “Are you watching your weight?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Then prepare to be taken to a world of decadence.”
She laughed, expecting him to pick up his fork and eat his own meal. Instead, he stayed perfectly still, his warm eyes on her.
“You like it when people go bananas over your food.”
“Of course.”
But that wasn’t why he was studying her. There was a huge difference between pride in one’s work and curiosity about an attraction and she knew that curiosity when she saw it.
She put down her fork, caught in his gaze, the moment. “What are we really doing here, Rafe?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
“You aren’t staring at me like someone who wants to make sure I like his food.”
“You are beautiful.”
Her heart shivered. Her eyes clung to his. She wanted him to have said that because he liked her, because he was ready to do something about it. But a romance between them would be a disaster. She’d be hurt. She’d have to leave Monte Calanetti. She could not take anything he said romantically.
Forking another bite of food, she casually said, “Beauty doesn’t pay the rent.”
His voice a mere whisper, he said, “Why do you tease me?”
Her face fell. “I don’t tease you!”
“Of course, you do. Every day you dress more beautifully, but you don’t talk to me.”
“I’m smart enough to stay away when a guy warns me off.”
“Yet you tell me I must be prepared for you to stay.”
“Because you...” Like me. She almost said it. But his admitting he liked her would be nothing but trouble. He might like her in the moment, but he wouldn’t like her forever. It was stupid to even have that discussion.
She steered them away from it. “Because if I stay, no more firing me. You’re getting me permanently.”
“You keep saying that as if I should be afraid.” He slid his arm to the back of her chair. His fingers rose to toy with the blunt line of her chin-length hair. “But your staying is not a bad thing.”
The wash of awareness roaring through her disagreed. If she fell in love with him, her staying would be a very bad thing. His touching her did not help matters. With his fingers brushing her hair, tickling her nape, she couldn’t move...could barely breathe.
His hand shifted from her hairline and wrapped around the back of her neck so he could pull her closer. She told herself to resist. To be smart. But something in his eyes wouldn’t let her. As she drew nearer, he leaned in. Their gazes held until his lips met hers, then her eyelids dropped. Her breathing stopped.
Warm and sweet, his lips brushed her, and she knew why she hadn’t resisted. She so rarely got what she wanted in life that when tempted she couldn’t say no. It might be wrong to want him, but she did.
His hand slid from her neck to her back, twisting her to sit sideways on her chair. Her arms lifted slowly, her hands hesitantly went to his shoulders. Then he deepened the kiss and her mind went blank.
It wasn’t so much the physical sensations that robbed her of thought but the fact that he kissed her. He finally, finally kissed her the way he had the night he’d walked her to her car.
When he thought she was free.
When he wanted there to be something between them.
The kiss went on and on. Her senses combined to create a flood of need so strong that something unexpected suddenly became clear. She was already in love with Rafe. She didn’t have to worry that someday she might fall in love. Innocent and needy as she was, she had genuinely fallen in love—
And he was nowhere near in love with her.
He was strong and stubborn, set in his ways. He said he didn’t do relationships. He said he didn’t have time. He’d told her he hurt women. And if he hurt her, she’d never be able to work for him.
Did she want to risk this job for a fling?
To risk her new friends?
Did she want to be hurt?
Hadn’t she been hurt, rejected enough in her life already?
She jerked away from him.
He pulled away slowly and ran his hand