Ким Лоренс – The Italians: Alessandro, Luca & Dizo: Alessandro's Prize / In a Storm of Scandal / Italian Groom, Princess Bride (страница 20)

Somehow she managed to get through the remainder of the evening, although acting a part while inwardly seething took some effort.

It didn’t help when Alessandro placed an arm along the back of her chair as the waitress served them coffee.

A casual gesture, it succeeded in tripping her pulse, not to mention heightening her awareness of him, the refined exclusiveness of his cologne. Dammit, everything about him.

Bidding Giarda and Massimo goodnight involved several minutes as they exchanged pleasantries before parting to collect their car.

Lily waited until Alessandro ignited the engine and they joined the flow of traffic.

‘How did it go down, Alessandro?’ she queried with deceptive lightness. ‘And don’t insult my intelligence by fudging fact.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’

She directed him a dark look, which should have felled him, but had no effect at all. ‘Sophia could have selected any one of many restaurants to share lunch that day.’

‘It concerns you that she chose mine?’

Her eyes flashed in the reflected light of oncoming traffic. ‘Only that it reeks of being a deliberate set-up.’

‘And that angers you?’

‘I dislike being deceived. Or being given an unfair advantage.’

‘You earned your employment,’ he reminded silkily.

‘You’re a professional chef, you own and head a restaurant, and you happen to speak fluent French and Italian.’

‘Tell me … if I’d walked in off the street as an unknown and asked for employment, would I have succeeded?’

‘Probably not.’

Lily’s eyes darkened measurably as he eased to a halt outside her apartment building and cut the engine.

It irked unbearably that he had merely been kind due to his connection with Sophia. Doubtless he viewed it as a duty, and probably found her company boring.

‘No.’

Lily’s eyes flared a little. ‘Excuse me?’

‘No.’ he reiterated quietly as he released his seat belt.

‘You have no idea what—’

‘You’re thinking? Try me.’

He framed her face and lowered his mouth within a hair’s breadth of her own. Then his mouth covered her own, seeking, persuasive, his touch skilful as he tasted the inner sweetness, coaxing until a reluctant groan rose unbidden deep in her throat and she gave in to the need to savour his touch, to exult in the mastery he gifted her.

It was more, so much more than she’d imagined as she became lost … so involved that she whimpered as he began to ease back.

For what seemed an age he simply looked at her, and the breath hitched raggedly in her throat as he smoothed a gentle thumb over her lower lip.

‘Now you understand.’

Did she?

Oh, dear heaven. ‘I can’t. You.’ Her eyes registered stark disbelief, shock … at the passion they’d just shared. ‘I have to …’ She pulled away from him, barely aware that he let her go as she fumbled with the seat belt, then she reached for the door clasp and scrambled out from the car.

Her key. dammit, where was her key?

‘Your purse.’

When had he emerged from behind the wheel and moved to her side?

Somehow she extracted her keys, and she was unaware he moved with her to the main entrance, or that he followed her into the lobby until they reached the lift.

‘Please … just go.’

‘When I’ve seen you safely inside your apartment.’

‘No,’ Lily protested. ‘I’m fine.’

Sure you are. Admit it … you’re an emotional mess.

The lift door slid open and he followed her in, pressed the appropriate button, and regarded her pensively as the lift travelled to her floor.

Without a word he took the keys from her hand and inserted the right key into the lock and opened the door before handing the bunch back to her. ‘Buona notte, cara. I’ll call you tomorrow.’

She shook her head helplessly.

‘Lock the door behind me.’

She did so, her actions on autopilot as she crossed to her bedroom to stand staring sightlessly into space, until reality intervened.

With automatic movements she slid off her stilettos, then she discarded her clothes before entering the en suite.

Her fingers trembled as she removed the pins from her hair and swept it into a loose tail. It was then she caught sight of her reflection and closed her eyes to temporarily block out the image—pale face, huge eyes, a swollen well-kissed mouth.

Oh, my.

Where did she go from here?

CHAPTER EIGHT

LILY CHECKED HER ROSTER, noted her next free day, and called Sophia.

Family, she accorded wistfully. True friends were gold, but beloved family represented the finest of precious jewels.

‘I have a free day on Wednesday,’ Lily explained when they’d exchanged mutual news. ‘I’d love to have you to dinner at my place. Carlo, too, of course.’ She paused fractionally. ‘And Alessandro.’

If Sophia noticed the slight change in Lily’s voice, she chose not to comment. ‘I accept with pleasure. You will contact Alessandro?’

‘Yes.’ Doing so was a given, although just thinking about making the call had her stomach doing a slow somersault. ‘Does seven-thirty suit?’

‘Perfect. I’m so looking forward to it.’

‘It’ll be great,’ Lily responded with genuine warmth.

With Sophia and Carlo, yes. Alessandro’s presence … not so much.

So why do you go to pieces whenever you see him?

Melt when he touches you, even in the most casual manner? And let’s not think about the way his mouth feels on your own … lethal, she admitted.

So make the call, why don’t you? Get it over with before you need to leave for the afternoon shift. After all, what could be easier … you have his cell-phone number on speed-dial.

He answered on the second ring. ‘Lily. What can I do for you?’

She was tempted to tell him, except that would be most unwise. ‘I’ve invited Sophia and Carlo to dinner on Wednesday evening. Are you free to join us?’

‘It will be a pleasure.’ His voice held a warm sensuality that sent her pulse-beat into overdrive.

‘Seven-thirty, my place.’ She got the details out quickly, adding, ‘Ciao’ before ending the connection.

There, it was done.

In his luxurious office Alessandro put down the phone and contained a slight smile. He received many invitations over the course of each year, among them social, and the intimate kind. But none, he mused, that had been issued with such polite reluctance.

Lily … or Liliana, as he preferred to think of her, was a piece of work. Warm, charming, delightful, when she let down her guard.