The Playboy of Rome

She’d grown up knowing one simple truth: people rarely lived up to their word. There was only one person to count on—herself.

However, in Massimo’s case, breaking his word was totally understandable. It was beyond his control. Her heart squeezed when she thought of that outgoing man being forced into retirement. She truly hoped while she was here that she’d get the opportunity to meet him and thank him for having such faith in her. It was as though he could see through her brave front to her quivering insides. During moments of doubt, he’d calmed her and assured her that all would be fine with the television segments.

She glanced at Dante. He definitely wasn’t a calming force like his grandfather. If anything, Dante’s presence filled her with nervous energy.

He leaned against the door. “There’s no apartment available.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “Does everything with you have to be a struggle?”

“I’m not trying to be difficult. I simply don’t have any place for you to stay.”

“Why is it your grandfather seemed confident that I would be comfortable here?”

“Probably because there was a remodeled apartment available, but since I wasn’t privy to your arrangement with my grandfather, I just leased it. But I’m sure you won’t have a problem finding a hotel room nearby.”

Oh, yes, there would be a big problem. She didn’t have money to rent a hotel room. She could only imagine how expensive that would be and she needed every penny to pay down her debts and to pay tuition for Jules’s grad school. Every penny from the contract was already accounted for. There was nothing to spare.

“It was agreed that I would have free room and board.” Pride dictated that she keep it to herself that she didn’t have the money to get a hotel room.

He crossed his arms and stared at her as though debating his options. “What do you want me to do? Give you my bed?”

The words sparked a rush of tempting images to dance through her mind. Dante leaning in and pressing his very tempting lips to hers. His long, lean fingers grazing her cheek before resting against the beating pulse in her throat. Her leaning into him as he swept her up in his arms.

“Lizzie, are you okay?” Dante’s eyes filled with concern.

She swallowed hard, realizing that she’d let her imagination get the best of her. “Umm, yes. I’m just a little jet-lagged. And things were busy tonight, keeping me on my toes.”

His eyes probed her. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

She nodded.

Where in the world had those distracting images of Dante come from? It wasn’t as though she was looking for a boyfriend. The last man in her life had believed they should each have their own space until one day he dropped by to let her know that he was moving to California to chase his dream of acting. No I’ll miss you. Or Will you come with me?

He’d tossed her aside like the old worn-out couch and the back issues of his rocker magazines. He hadn’t wanted her except for a little fun here and there. She’d foolishly let herself believe that they were building something special. In the end, she hadn’t been enough for him—she always came up lacking.

“I’d really like to get some rest.” And some distance from Dante so she could think clearly. “It’s been a long evening and my feet are killing me.”

Was that a hint of color rising in his cheeks? Did he feel bad about putting her to work? Maybe he should, but she honestly didn’t mind. She liked meeting some of the people she’d hopefully be cooking for in the near future. That was if she ever convinced Dante that this arrangement could work.

“Putting you to work was a total mix-up. My apologies.” He glanced down at the floor. “I owe you.”

“Apology accepted.” She loved that he had manners. “Now, does this mean you’ll find me a bed?”

CHAPTER FOUR

THE QUESTION CONJURED up all sorts of scintillating scenarios.

Dante squelched his overactive, overeager imagination. Something told him that there was a whole lot more to this beautiful woman than her desire to be on television and to brush up on her skills in the kitchen. He saw in her eyes a guardedness. He recognized the look because it was something he’d witnessed with his older brother after his young wife had tragically died. It was a look one got when life had double-crossed them.

Lizzie had traveled to the other side of the globe from her home without knowing a single soul, and from the determined set of her mouth, she wasn’t about to turn tail and run. She was willing to stand her ground. And he couldn’t help but admire her strength.

He just hoped his gut feeling about this woman wasn’t off target. What he had in mind was a bold move. But his grandfather, who’d always been a good judge of character, liked her. He surely wouldn’t have gone out of his way for her if he hadn’t. But that didn’t mean Dante should trust her completely, especially when it came to his grandfather.

Nonno had enough on his plate. Since he’d been struck down by a stroke, he’d been lost in a sea of self-pity. Dante was getting desperate to snap his grandfather back into the world of the living. And plying the man with problems when Nonno was already down wouldn’t help anyone.

“Have you told me everything now? About your agreement with my grandfather.”

She nodded.

“You promise? No more surprises?”

“Cross my heart.” Her finger slowly crossed her chest.

Dante cleared his throat as he forced his gaze upward to meet her eyes. “I suppose I do have a place for you to stay.”

“Lead the way.”

With the main doors locked, he moved next to her on the sidewalk. “It’s right over here.”

He led the way to a plain red door alongside the restaurant. With a key card, the door buzzed and he pulled it open for her. Inside was a small but lush lobby with an elevator and a door leading to steps. He’d made sure to give the building a face-lift when his grandfather handed over the reins to him. That was all it took to draw in eager candidates to rent the one available unit that he’d been occupying until he’d moved into his grandfather’s much larger apartment.

“Where are we going?” She glanced around at the new furnishings adorning the lobby.

“There are apartments over the ristorante.”

A look of dawning glinted in her eyes. “Your grandfather mentioned those. It’s where he intended for me to stay while I am here. Are they nice?”

“Quite nice.” In fact the renovations on his apartment had just been completed.

As the elevator doors slid open, she paused and turned to him. “But I thought you said that you leased the last one.”

“Do you want to see what I have in mind or not?”

She nodded before stepping inside the elevator.

Good. Because he certainly wasn’t going to bend over backward to make her happy. In fact, if she walked away now of her own accord, so much the better. As it was, this arrangement would be only temporary. He’d pacify her until he spoke to his solicitor.

In the cozy confines of the elevator, the faint scent of her floral perfume wrapped around him and teased his senses. If she were anyone else, he’d comment on its intoxicating scent. It was so tempting to lean closer and draw the perfume deeper into his lungs. But he resisted. Something about her led him to believe that she’d want more than one night—more than he was capable of offering her.

The thought of letting go and falling in love made his gut tighten and his palms grow damp. He’d witnessed firsthand the power of love and it wasn’t all sappy ballads and roses. Love had the strength to crush a person, leaving them broken and angry at the world.

He placed a key in the pad, turned it and pressed the penthouse button. The hum of the elevator was the only sound. In no time at all the door swished open, revealing a red-carpeted hallway. He led her to his door, adorned with gold emblems that read PH-1.

Dante unlocked the door and waved for her to go ahead of him. He couldn’t help but watch her face. She definitely wouldn’t make much of a poker player as her emotions filtered across her face. Her blue eyes opened wide as she took in the pillar posts that supported the open floor plan for the living room and kitchen area.

He’d had walls torn down in order to create this spacious area. He may enjoy city life but the country boy in him didn’t like to feel completely hemmed in. He’d paid the men bonuses to turn the renovations around quickly. Though it didn’t come close in size to his family’s home at the vineyard, the apartment was still large—large enough for two people to coexist without stepping on each other’s toes. At least for one night.

She walked farther into the room. She paused next to the black leather couch and turned to him. “Do you live here alone?”

“I do. My grandfather used to live here. When he got sick, he turned it over to me. I made some changes and had everything updated.”

“It certainly is spacious. I think I’d get lost in a place this size.” Her stiff posture said that she was as uncomfortable as he felt.

He wasn’t used to having company. He’d been so busy since his grandfather’s sudden exit from the ristorante—from his life—that he didn’t have time for a social life. In fact, now that he thought about it, Lizzie was the first woman he’d had in here. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that fact.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked, trying to ease the mounting discomfort.

“Yes—you can tell me what I’m doing here.”

Oh, yes. He thought it was obvious but apparently it wasn’t to her. “You can stay here tonight until we can get this whole situation cleared up.”

“You mean when you consent to the contents of this contract.”

His jaw tightened, holding back a string of heated words.

“Don’t look like it’s the end of the world.” Lizzie stepped up to him. “With your good looks, the camera is going to love you. And that’s not to mention the thousands of women watching the segment. Who knows, maybe you’ll become a star.”

Dante laughed. Him a star. Never. Her lush lips lifted. The simple expression made her eyes sparkle like blue topaz. Her pale face filled with color. And her lips, they were plump and just right to lean in and snag a sweet taste. His head started to lower when she pulled back as though reading his errant thoughts.

He cleared his throat and moved to the kitchenette to retrieve a glass. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?”

“I’m fine. Have you lived here long?”

He ran the water until it was cold—real cold. What he really needed to do was dump it over his head and shock some sense back into himself.

“I’ve lived in this building since I moved to Rome. I had a smaller apartment on another floor before moving to this one. You’re my first guest here.” He turned, waiting to hear more about what she thought of the place. “What do you think of it?”

He was genuinely curious about her take on the place. It was modeled in black-and-white decor. With the two colors, it made decorating easier for him. He sensed that it still needed something, but he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly was missing.

“It’s...it’s nice.” Her tone was hesitant.

Nice? The muscles in his neck tightened. Who said “nice”? Someone who was trying to be polite when they really didn’t like something but they didn’t want to hurt the other person’s feelings.

She leaned back on the couch and straightened her legs. She lifted her arms over her head and stretched. He tried to ignore how her blouse rode up and exposed a hint of her creamy skin. But it was too late. His thoughts strayed in the wrong direction again. At this rate, he’d need a very cold shower.

He turned his attention back to the apartment and glanced around, trying to see it from her perspective. Everything was new. There wasn’t a speck of dust—his cleaning lady had just been there. And he made sure to always pick up after himself. There wasn’t a stray sock to be had anywhere.

“Is it the black-and-white decor you don’t like?” He really wanted to know. Maybe her answer would shed some light on why he felt something was off about the place.

“I told you, I like it.”

“But describing it as nice is what people say to be polite. I want to know what’s missing.” There, he’d said it. There was something missing and it was going to drive him crazy until he figured it out.

He looked around at the white walls. The modern artwork. The two pieces of sculpture. One of a stallion rearing up. The other of a gentle mare. They reminded him of home. When he turned around, he noticed Lizzie unzipping her boots and easing them off. Her pink-painted toes stretched and then pointed as though she were a ballerina as she worked out all of the muscles. When she murmured her pleasure at being free of the boots, he thought he was going to lose it. It took every bit of willpower to remain in his spot and not go to her.

He turned his back. He tried to think of something to do. Something to keep him from going to her. But there was nothing that needed straightening up. No dirty dishes in the sink. In fact, he spent very little time here. For the most part, he slept here and that was it. The rest of his time was spent either downstairs in the ristorante or at the vineyard, checking on his grandfather.

“You know what’s missing?” Her voice drew his attention.

He turned around and tried to ignore the way her short black skirt had ridden even higher on her thighs. “What would that be?”

“There are no pictures. I thought there’d be one of you with your grandfather.”

Dante glanced around, realizing she was right. He didn’t have a single picture of anyone. “I’m sorry. I don’t have any pictures here. They are all at my family’s home.”

“Do they live far from here?”

He shrugged. “It’s a bit of a drive. But not that far. I like to go home on the weekends.”

“But isn’t the restaurant open?”

“It’s open Saturday. But then we’re closed Sunday and Monday. So my weekend is not the traditional weekend.”

“I see. And your grandfather, is he with your family?”

Dante nodded. “He lives with my father and older brother.”

Her brows drew together but she didn’t say anything. He couldn’t help but be curious about her thoughts. Everything about this woman poked at his curiosity.

“What are you wondering?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Go ahead. Say what’s on your mind.”

“You mentioned a lot of men. Are there no women?”

“Afraid not. Unless you count my aunts, but they don’t live there even though they are around so much that it feels like they do.” He didn’t want to offer a detailed explanation of why there were no women living at the vineyard. He tried to avoid that subject at all costs. He took it for granted that the DeFiore men were to grow old alone. But that was a subject best left for another day.

“Sounds like you have a big family.”

“That’s the understatement of the century.” Anxious to end this line of conversation, he said, “We should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be here before we know it.”

“You’re sure you want me to stay here?” She stared directly at him.

Their gazes connected and held. Beyond the beauty of her eyes, there was something more that drew him to her—a vulnerability. In that moment, he longed to ride to her rescue and sweep her into his arms. He’d hold her close and kiss away her worries.

Lizzie glanced away, breaking the special moment.

Was she thinking the same thing as him? Did she feel the pull of attraction, too? Not that he was going to act on his thoughts. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t keep himself in check. He could and would be a gentleman.

“I’ll deal with it. After all, you said this is what my grandfather agreed to. There are a couple of guest rooms down the hallway.” He pointed to the right. And then for good measure he added, “And the master suite is in that direction.” His hand gestured to the left. “Plenty of room for both of us.”

“My luggage hasn’t arrived yet. I have nothing to sleep in.”

“I can loan you something.”

Just as he said that, there was a buzz from the intercom. He went to answer it. In seconds, he returned to her. “Well, you don’t have to worry. Your luggage has arrived.”

She smiled. “That’s great.”

A moment of disappointment coursed through him. What in the world was the matter with him? Why should he care one way or the other if she slept in one of his shirts or not? Obviously he was more tired than he’d thought.

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