Passionate Chef, Ice Queen Boss / Rescued in a Wedding Dress

Not reaching.

Don’t need to feel comforted.

Doing just fine holding up all by myself.

Not tempted by Lorenzo, either.

Totally not thinking about being kissed by him and how that one brief kiss only made me want—

Nothing. Scarlett wanted nothing from Lorenzo aside from good cooking. ‘I thought you’d be in the kitchen. Has the clientele eased off already?’

‘Not only has it eased off, the evening is over, Scarlett.’ He sipped from his own glass of wine.

‘Really?’ Scarlett’s gaze dipped to the strong column of his neck, to the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed the rich red.

What was she doing? Letting herself enjoy Lorenzo’s company? Lorenzo’s words finally got through the fog of what she decided must be over-tiredness messing up her normal thought patterns.

Scarlett frowned. ‘Has the restaurant closed?’

‘Yes. It’s just as well I check the building thoroughly before I leave. You might have ended up spending the night out here.’ He leaned one arm against the railing that edged the terraced area. ‘Did you even eat the meal I sent in to you earlier?’

‘I did. Thank you.’ Every day Lorenzo made sure she ate. He took care of her that way, even when she had her head down for hours and hours, like today. ‘I want to get Rosa into a truly successful position and keep the restaurant there.’

‘You’ve implemented changes, and smoothed ruffled feathers of various staff members when necessary.’ He sipped his wine again. ‘Bringing staff conditions into a more sensible place has to be a good start.’

‘A good start, yes, but it’s not going to be enough.’ Working on the books had made that abundantly clear. ‘We need to lift our client base and keep it lifted.’ She didn’t notice the change in her speech from ‘I’ to ‘we’.

As the days passed, Lorenzo had worked quietly to support her efforts. And somehow through that, Scarlett had started to trust him and rely on him.

Only as the head chef here. Well, as the assistant manager and head chef.

‘I’ve stopped you from going home. I’m sorry. I lost track of the time.’ That had happened while she turned her mind inside out trying to find a larger overall solution to Rosa’s financial issues.

Now all Scarlett could register was Lorenzo’s closeness. She had to pull herself together!

‘Maybe you should tell me what brought you out here in the first place.’ He said it as an invitation, not a challenge.

And Scarlett found herself responding. ‘I have to find a way to let the general public know the true value of Rosa.’ She let her gaze meet his in the dimness.

His eyes gleamed with interest in what she was saying, but there was more, too, and Scarlett went on a little breathlessly.

‘There has to be a way to make Rosa stand out against a neighbour like the glitzy, internationally flavoured Sorella.’ She had sent out a feeler for one idea that might help.

Scarlett would have elaborated on that.

But he chose that moment to lay his hand on her arm. ‘If there is any other way I can help—I can work longer hours—’

‘You already give of your time and don’t claim the overtime you should.’ This was also something that had bothered Scarlett. Of all the staff that Rosa employed, Lorenzo was the one who should be paid more.

She tried not to react to the knowledge of his hand against the bare skin of her arm, tried not to want more of his touch. Yet when he finally dropped his hand away, she missed it.

‘That’s not important at the moment.’ He turned his head away, almost as though her comprehending his generosity had embarrassed him.

‘You—you made us some money catering to that movie star for her special lunch.’ Oh, Scarlett wanted to rest her hand against his arm, to touch him and feel his warmth.

‘Maybe we need to find a way to bring Hollywood to Rosa’s front door.’ He smiled a little as he said it.

‘Yes, why not? We’ll move the entire tinsel town here. Do you think anyone would notice it had gone missing?’ Scarlett returned his smile. They fell silent and finished their wine and…he was so close. She could smell the scent of his cologne, and old memories suddenly got all tangled up with the here and now.

She dropped her gaze away from him. The goal that had been to think about the future of Rosa and see if a break from the office would rattle loose any other ideas inside her mind faded in the face of her awareness of him.

Why was Lorenzo different from any other man? Surely, lots of men could kiss her and make her feel the same way he did. Or even better. Not that Scarlett had kissed a whole lot of men in the past years, and not that any of the candidates she had kissed had stacked up.

She’d been busy building her career. For that reason she hadn’t involved herself in a great amount of dating.

And so what if none of them had swept her away?

These thoughts were not productive, especially at this time of night when she was obviously weary and not able to think clearly.

‘Has it been hard for you, Scarlett? Coming back like this?’ He turned and somehow their fingers were brushing, just gently touching on the railing. ‘You seemed unhappy when I first saw you today at the swimming pool with your sister and Isabella.’

‘I didn’t think you’d see.’ What had he seen? She searched his gaze, and somehow in the dim quietness the words came out. ‘It’s no secret now, that Jackie had a daughter a long time ago. What most people wouldn’t know is that I all but single-handedly separated them back then. This afternoon at the pool, when Jackie was talking about Kate, I felt guilty for the way I’d hurt her.’

Scarlett felt emotion clog her throat, and she was appalled. She shouldn’t have let this out. ‘You mustn’t say anything to anyone. That’s…’

‘Your business, and Jackie’s business.’ He shook his head. ‘I won’t say anything. I…understand about secrets.’

Until he said those words, Scarlett had thought he might pull her into his arms, hold her, and perhaps try to kiss those painful emotions away.

She would have let him.

In fact, somewhere deep inside she admitted she might even have wanted that.

But his admission about secrets hung between them, a thinly veiled reference to his past marriage.

‘Well, I’m being a bit dramatic all of a sudden.’ Scarlett made as light of things as she could manage. ‘I shouldn’t have brought that old history up. Jackie just wants to forget it now that she has Kate in her life again. And, it’s late. We should go in. I’m sure you’d like to leave. I’m sorry I held things up daydreaming out here.’

Scarlett turned for the inside of the restaurant. She hadn’t exactly been daydreaming, but he would know what she meant.

‘Yes, of course we can go.’ Lorenzo looked at the tight set of Scarlett’s shoulders. She had on a simple light tan sheath that looked cool and comfortable, and brought out the beauty of her bone structure and the golden glow of her skin.

That glow had been in her face, too, until he stupidly brought up her earlier unease in her sister’s company.

Yet he couldn’t really regret it, because Scarlett had given him a gift just now. The gift of her trust for just a few moments before her openness made her uneasy and she wished she could have taken it all back.

He had wanted to comfort her but he’d drawn back from that, too. How could he do that when the guilt of his past plagued him? The guilt of his past and…the complications of his present.

‘I’ll see you home.’ He’d walk her over and walk away. That was all he could do with Scarlett. What else did he have to offer her? Nothing. Lorenzo was not free to offer Scarlett anything.

And of course, after all this time, he didn’t still want to. It had to be their past that made it difficult for him to maintain equilibrium in his thoughts where she was concerned.

‘No, thanks.’ She walked ahead of him through the restaurant, glanced back over her shoulder. ‘By the time you finish locking up and get on your motorcycle I’ll be there. I’ll be fine, Lorenzo. I don’t need you to go with me.’

She left him there, and he did watch to make sure she got home safely while her words rang in his head.

They didn’t need each other.

That had to be the truth of it.

Didn’t it?

‘You’ll understand if I ask you to explain your reasoning for whatever choices you make today?’ Scarlett asked the question quietly as Lorenzo drew Rosa’s small van to a stop outside a set of shops in a nearby larger township.

‘Of course.’ Lorenzo wasn’t concerned to know that Scarlett would spend this morning scrutinising his work practices. He had nothing to hide.

They were on a buying expedition, and both of them were in a mellow mood.

A cooling breeze had driven the worst of the heat away. The day was clear and fresh. It was nice to be away from the restaurant for a little while. Isabella had taken charge to free Lorenzo for his expedition. He’d climbed into the van and Scarlett had joined him so she could see what one of his buying trips consisted of. When he’d turned the key in the ignition, old rock music had blared out of the van’s speakers.

Scarlett had thrown her head back and laughed and he’d…laughed with her. He’d turned the volume down a little and they’d made the trip with the windows down, the wind whipping through their hair and against their faces. It had been…fun.

Lorenzo glanced at Scarlett’s flushed face, and couldn’t help the soft smile that came to his lips. ‘You can cross-question me all you like. I want Rosa to succeed as much as you do.’

Lorenzo got out of the van to stride around the front and open Scarlett’s door with a bow and a flourish. ‘Shall we go?’

For a moment she froze, but then a smile came over her face and she held out her hand and lifted her nose into the air at such a haughty angle it was a wonder it didn’t catch on the top of the doorframe. ‘By all means let us go, but you should know, I’m not carrying the basket for you.’

‘Actually, I have string bags, and I’ll be doing the carrying myself.’ He gripped her hand and helped her out, and their hands slid away from each other with a slow glide of fingers.

They went shopping. Lorenzo made his choices as carefully as he always did. These were ingredients and items he couldn’t get for the kitchen locally in Monta Correnti.

Scarlett observed, questioned his brand choices, and nodded her approval as he carefully explained how each item would be used.

When they’d finished the shopping for Rosa, he gestured towards another small shop. ‘If you don’t mind me taking the time, I’d like a few things from in there for my home stores. They can wait if you’d prefer.’

‘No, that’s fine.’ Her eyes had lit up as she realised what they were looking at. It was a chocolate wholesaler. She turned to glance at him with her brows raised. ‘I know you make fabulous desserts. You were working on some the first day I started at Rosa, but I wouldn’t have pictured you with a sweet tooth for it.’

‘Then picture again.’ He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. ‘I occasionally make them at home. Partly to keep my hand in and my capabilities sharp, but mostly—’ he smiled ‘—so I can eat the results. Maybe one day I could cook a dessert for you.’

‘Maybe.’

A little silence fell. It wasn’t awkward, exactly, just both of them realising that they’d let their conversation drift into something it perhaps hadn’t started out to be.

That perhaps wasn’t particularly appropriate, and Lorenzo tried to remind himself of this as he gathered up his purchases and the items were tallied.

He managed, sort of. Well, except for his imagination taking him to making chocolate desserts for Scarlett and feeding portions to her somewhere quiet and romantic.

You’ve managed not to feel romantic about anyone else for five years.

Lorenzo hadn’t been celibate, but those encounters had been occasional, and emotionally meaningless.

‘Lunch.’ He needed to shift his thoughts away from the concepts of Scarlett and romance. ‘We, ah, we agreed that we’d eat at the most popular restaurant, check out the competition.’

‘My guess would be that one.’ Scarlett gestured to a small, cosy restaurant tucked into the corner of the square. It wasn’t the largest, but it was clearly busy. ‘Shall we go there?’

Lorenzo tucked their purchases into coolers in the back of the van, and they made their way on foot to the restaurant.

‘The demographic they’re getting is different here from Rosa.’ Scarlett leaned forward to say the words quietly, so they wouldn’t be overheard by other diners. So no one would know they were being studied and picked apart. ‘We get some tourists, but not as many as we have locals.’

To be fair, she and Lorenzo were picking apart the food, table service, ambiance and everything else as well. That was why they were here. To examine all of it.

She took a small sip of her wine. ‘It’s a decent red. Nothing outstanding, but I don’t think you’d do better for a table-wine price.’

‘Yes. The wine is good value.’ Lorenzo’s lids drooped and his gaze stilled on her lips.

Scarlett was trying hard not to be too aware of him, too conscious. And yet with each moment that passed, her awareness seemed to increase.

They’d laughed together this morning as they drove here. Played silly old music in the van and let themselves relax. Scarlett had let her guards down. She couldn’t seem to get them back up again.

‘They’re catering to at least a fifty-per-cent tourist clientele here.’ Lorenzo leaned in a little closer. ‘These are people who won’t be back again and again. They just want to eat and leave.’

‘It can be a tricky one, the tourist versus locals issue.’ Scarlett tried to give the issue the most careful thought she could manage.

That wasn’t a full hundred per cent, she had to admit. How could she fully concentrate on business when all she could hear was his voice? When all she could feel was the fact he was so close she could raise her hand and touch his face?

And he was looking at her as though, regardless of their purpose here, he saw only her.

Scarlett cleared her throat. ‘You, ah, with your shopping earlier—the Rosa part of it.’ Yes, that was good. Rosa was what they needed to speak about, even if Scarlett now had an almost compulsive need to be in a kitchen with him somewhere and watch him create a chocolate masterpiece.

For her?

No. Of course not.

Well, it would be rather special.

I repeat, Scarlett, no, of course not!

It would not be special. It would be dangerously intimate.

‘Um, where were we?’

The liquid brown of his eyes darkened as he gazed at her through a screen of silky black lashes. ‘We were discussing my shopping for Rosa.’

‘That’s right. We were.’ Scarlett forced a nod, but all that did was make her ponytail bounce and the forest-green ribbon brush against the skin of her back. A sleeveless sundress in a matching green had seemed a good choice this morning, but now Scarlett wondered if maybe she should have dressed in something more workmanlike. Well, workwomanlike, if she wanted to be exact about it.

Maybe a suit that buttoned up to the neck. With tights. Boring, sensible ones. And low-heeled pumps. And no ribbon in her hair. Definitely no ribbon from her collection of ribbons that Scarlett anticipated wearing each day now for that moment when Lorenzo let his gaze wander to her hair.

‘I’ve studied the way you run your kitchen, Lorenzo.’ She drew a breath that she hoped would help to steady her before she forced herself to go on. ‘From this morning’s shopping, the only noteworthy issue was that we could purchase a lot of our goods from here on a regular basis and get them for less than we’re paying to local producers from Monta Correnti and its surrounds.’

His fingers lifted as though he might attempt to smooth the puckered expression from her lips, but he dropped them back to the table and instead gave a nod of agreement. ‘You’re quite right, but Luca’s policy has been to support local business.’

‘Yet recently I saw you in a heated discussion with a local olive supplier when he brought a case of olives to the restaurant.’ Scarlett had meant to follow up on that, but had become immersed again in account records and, truthfully, had forgotten. She shouldn’t allow issues to slip away from her that way. Everything counted!

It was Lorenzo’s turn to frown. ‘The olives that grower brought wouldn’t be fit to put on a cheap mass-produced pizza from some foreign country that doesn’t have a clue!’

Scarlett grinned. She couldn’t help herself. ‘Are you having a go at my country’s food-chain pizza makers? I’m sure the last time I had an olive on one of those pizzas, it was quite satisfactory. But then, Australia produces some good olives.’

She was teasing him.

And he was looking all affronted but with a twinkle in his eyes, letting her.

Scarlett was shocked at her own behaviour, and thrilled and happy and a little giddy from his company, all at once.

Oh, she had allowed herself to relax too much with him today. That was the problem. Relax and unwind and for a little while, though the entire purpose of her presence with him was to dig into yet another aspect of Rosa’s doings in hopes of finding another edge she could trim off their bottom line, she’d simply had fun.

‘Why can’t I still loathe you, ’Renz?’ The old pet name for him slipped out without her even realising it. The question slipped out, too, straight from her confusion and interest in him. It also came from a degree of caution and the belated realisation that she really had let this day get out of her control. ‘You hurt me so much.’

‘That is something I have regretted every day for five years.’ He didn’t say that he wished he could have fixed the situation, made it better. That he wished he could have done things differently back then.

Scarlett noted that. Oh, she heard that fact loud and clear. And even then, she still couldn’t.

Had she ever hated him? Or had she only thought that she did, because being angry had been easier to deal with than the pain of losing him? The pain of him not caring for her enough to leave his wife and give Scarlett the future with him that she had hoped for?

A future that Lorenzo had promised and then not followed through on? She hadn’t known he was married at first. She’d let herself fall in love with him before he told her. He’d been going to leave Marcella. He’d done that since. Why couldn’t he have done it then? ‘It was a long time ago and maybe we both have grown up since then.’

Maybe growing up was what allowed Lorenzo to finally get out of a marriage that had made him unhappy. At least he’d done that for himself.

And Scarlett had moved on, too. Perhaps they just hadn’t been meant to be together.

When she searched his eyes she thought she would see agreement. Perhaps softness. Maybe still that hint of teasing. She didn’t expect to see shadows. Such shadows that her breath caught in her throat and she uttered his name with a question in her voice. ‘Lorenzo?’

What is it? What’s brought that hurt into your eyes?

He swallowed and opened his mouth and for some reason her breath stilled as though she was bracing for something. But he just shook his head and gestured to her plate. ‘Are you finished? If so we should probably make our way back. There’s a lot of work still to do before the day is over.’

‘Y-yes. I’m finished.’ So, apparently, was this conversation if she didn’t try…‘If you need—’

‘I’m fine, Scarlett, but we do need to head back.’ He didn’t reject her care. The gentle expression in his eyes made it clear that he appreciated it. But he shut the conversation down, just the same.

Scarlett nodded. She wanted to think about his reaction, what it could mean, but he gestured for their bill and then there was that to settle.

They were on the road again in minutes and he talked about the pros and cons of paying more for local produce, and did it with enough commitment and interest that Scarlett had to throw herself into the conversation with him.

Really, he was only being sensible, doing what Scarlett should have done from the outset today. He was trying to keep them on a business footing.

So why did Scarlett feel that with each moment that passed the tension and consciousness between them, rather than lessening, became stronger until everything between them seemed to be exaggerated a hundredfold?

She could hear each breath he took. The radio was silent. Her own breathing sounded loud to her ears. Each of Lorenzo’s words felt like the brush of his hand against her skin. When they fell silent, Scarlett remembered times in their past that they had shared such silences. Companionable, sweet silences.

If she thought this was only affecting her, maybe she would have had a good chance of squashing it back, but it was in his eyes each time he glanced her way. It was in the clench of his hands around the steering wheel and the tight set of his shoulders as he tried so hard to keep their conversation moving and work-focused.

And safe.

When Lorenzo drew the van to a stop in the parking space at the back of the restaurant, Scarlett turned and gave him a subdued smile.

She was trying. She wanted to be wise. If he could try for that then the least she should do was meet him halfway.

Anything else was sheer madness anyway, even if her mind all but refused to consider this fact right now. ‘Thank you for the trip, and for letting me bounce all my thoughts off you. That was really helpful.’

Scarlett was proud. The words were coming out and making sense. Later she would be able to really and truly examine all the things they’d talked about. For now she said, ‘There are clearly some things I still need to address.’

In fact, she could even think of one of those things right now. ‘I need to speak with Luca about these issues with purchasing local goods. What happened with the olives in the end, by the way?’

And see? A sensible, interested question to arm herself with knowledge about that issue, too.

‘The grower replaced them with a decent grade and got a warning not to pull a stunt like that again.’ Lorenzo stepped from the van and, again, came around it to open her door for her.

His words were clear and to the point and if she hadn’t looked into his eyes Scarlett might have believed they could just be friends.

‘Good. The grower had better do the right thing next time.’ Lorenzo would see that he did. Scarlett felt quite confident of this. Confident enough that she didn’t feel the need to manage the situation herself. ‘I’m learning to trust you again.’ She uttered the words without forethought.

Perhaps they surprised him enough that he didn’t think to step out of her path.

Because Scarlett stepped down from the van and all but into his arms. They ended up practically chest-to-chest there in the rear area behind the restaurant. It was quiet and still out here, the van parked close to the back of the building. They stood between the van and a windowless section of wall.

She looked up into his eyes and he looked down into hers and…that was the end of it. The end of days of working with each other and suppressing all sorts of things and today not managing to suppress them.

Scarlett didn’t know who kissed whom. She didn’t know who made that first infinitesimal move or whether they both did.

All she knew was their lips pressed together in the seclusion of the back area. Lorenzo made a soft sound in the back of his throat.

Their hands rose and arms locked around each other. This wasn’t a one-second press of lips against lips and a hurried and startled breaking away. This was the rest of that first kiss. The completion of that first kiss. A giving and taking and offering and receiving that seemed to touch on so much more than a shared attraction or a past closeness.