The Italians: Alessandro, Luca & Dizo: Alessandro's Prize / In a Storm of Scandal / Italian Groom, Princess Bride

Good to go, she decided as she exited her suite and descended the stairs to join Sophia in the lobby.

‘Have I kept you waiting?’

‘Not at all,’ Sophia reassured. ‘Alessandro has just arrived. I was about to open the door.’

Which she did, and he stood in the wide aperture, a tall dark-haired figure in an immaculately tailored suit, exuding an overwhelming sense of masculine power.

‘Sophia, Lily.’

‘Caro,’ Sophia greeted with a smile as she accepted the brush of his lips to her cheek, while Lily flashed him a silent please don’t message, which he naturally ignored.

This close, even briefly, he stirred her senses and sent the blood coursing through her veins as she took in the subtle aroma of his cologne, the faint hint of freshly laundered clothing.

For one totally wild moment she had the craziest feeling her body swayed towards his of its own accord, something she immediately corrected, and missed the faint narrowing of his eyes.

Everything took on a different look at night, Lily mused as the car took a route leading towards the hills. Lights sparkled in the distance, providing a delicate tracery against the indigo sky.

Small was a misnomer, Lily decided as she saw the number of cars lining a large circular driveway leading to a magnificent three-storied villa set in beautiful softly illuminated grounds.

They were greeted by their host, then escorted by a staff member to what could only be termed a large ballroom where an impressive number of guests mingled while staff circled offering trays of canapés, champagne and wine.

Lily recognized a few familiar faces, guests she’d met on a few previous occasions over the past week, and during the ensuing half hour she received introductions to those remaining.

As well as the host’s daughter, Anabella, and her fiancé Enrico.

The couple looked so happy, with eyes only for each other, and the secret smile that lovers had, convinced that love alone would surmount whatever life could throw at them.

Had she been that happy on the night of her engagement to James? Content was the word that came to mind. Aware, perhaps, that she had everything she needed, having achieved much, and settling with a good partner was the next step.

At the time she’d thought it was love. How wrong she had been.

Focus, Lily bade silently. You discovered the fallacy and escaped before any real damage was done. Not all men are like James. Yet her confidence in judging men had taken a battering. It was simpler to avoid them, and as for considering a relationship … forget it.

A light touch at her waist brought her sharply back to the present as Alessandro settled his hand at the small of her back, and a slight feathery sensation slid down her spine.

Nerves, she accorded … and knew it was more.

Awareness. Sensual recognition. Sexual chemistry.

All three. And nothing she did, even attempting psychological analysis, and how crazy was that, was successful in diffusing the warmth, the heat, he generated in her body.

Not once in her life had she experienced such a reaction or felt so confused by it.

Hopefully any minute soon Alessandro would choose to mix and mingle, acknowledge friends and she could breathe easily again.

Except he remained at her side … there, almost as if he knew his presence affected her, and determined to press the advantage.

‘Sophia, a moment of your time, if you please.’

‘Of course,’ her aunt granted graciously as she excused herself and moved away a few paces to confer.

‘Nothing to say, Lily?’ Alessandro posed lightly, and she found it remarkably easy to summon a stunning smile.

‘What would you like to discuss? Fiscal affairs, the current oil spill? That should fill a void.’

He lifted a hand and trailed light fingers down her cheek, caught a glimpse of fleeting emotion in her eyes before it was quickly masked. Pain? Vulnerability? Perhaps both … and wondered why it should matter so much. ‘You have no need to feel nervous,’ Alessandro said gently.

She didn’t want gentle. Dammit, she didn’t want to play the musing conversational game—light innocuous words without substance that meant little.

‘Why should I be nervous?’ For a moment she held his gaze, and his soft laughter curled round her nerve-ends. Not the most comfortable sensation, Lily admitted as she held up a hand and began ticking off each finger.

‘Today I’ve had breakfast with Sophia, a sojourn in Como, shopping, followed by lunch, and more shopping.’

‘That is all?’

No, it wasn’t. Except she had no intention of revealing another email from James had appeared in her inbox, a further missive citing remorse, empty promises and begging for another chance. Another email she’d chosen to ignore.

She tilted her head a little and regarded him with deliberate solemnity. ‘Why don’t you tell me about your day?’

Alessandro’s eyes gleamed with humour. ‘Corporate meetings, a linked video conference, lunch with an associate.’

‘And now you’re here, socializing and doing duty with Sophia’s niece.’

‘Is that how you perceive my presence?’

‘It’s not?’

‘No.’

For a few brief seconds she became lost for words, unable to summon any that made sense, and the sassy response that rose to her lips remained unsaid.

At that moment their host announced dinner was due to be served, and requested the guests be seated.

Name cards designated placings, and Lily felt her stomach execute a slow somersault as she realized she was seated at Alessandro’s right, with Sophia to his left.

The arrangement would offer no respite from his presence for an hour, two hours, she eventually amended, and they were yet to raise a toast to the newly engaged couple.

Alessandro proved to be an attentive male companion, maybe a little too attentive as he appeared to regard her with a degree of affection, ensuring her glass was filled, solicitously abiding by her request for mineral water after the initial flute of champagne. There, adding supposition to innuendo that she was more than merely Sophia’s niece. The light brush of his hand, the warm smile.

Charm, he possessed it in spades. Although only a fool would fail to detect the ruthless edge beneath his sophisticated persona.

It was a combination that appeared to fascinate, Lily perceived, as she noted covert glances from, not one, but three attractive women seated at the table … not that she was counting, of course.

A subtle invitation in the soft parting of perfectly glossed lips and a slow delicate sweep of the tongue.

Was it his expertise between the sheets that attracted these women or the fortune he’d managed to amass?

Inevitably both, she decided with unaccustomed cynicism.

Hadn’t it been James’s modus operandi to act a part, then offer he needed a real woman prepared to meet all his sexual needs as his excuse for maintaining an affair?

‘Attenzione.’

This was the moment to fill flutes with champagne and toast the newly engaged couple, something which was achieved with voiced enthusiasm.

Lily banked down the faint stirring of envy as she took in the radiant Anabella and the equally enamoured Enrico.

Had she been so enchanting, and glowing with love on the evening she’d accepted James’s ring?

There had been pleasure, certainly, and contentment … but glowing?

Not really. And there was the thing: what had felt sensible at the time, hadn’t been right from the beginning.

A slight shiver slid down her spine as Alessandro stretched a casual arm across the back of her chair and leaned towards her to quietly offer, ‘Beautiful, is she not?’

This close she was aware of the warmth from his body, the intense masculinity he projected with effortless ease.

‘Stunning,’ Lily conceded as she met his gaze with what she hoped was polite indifference, and felt betrayed by an increased beat of the pulse at the base of her throat.

It was a relief when dinner concluded and their hosts encouraged guests to move into the adjoining ballroom where a DJ began to play so the guests could dance.

Mood music alternated with upbeat modern, and Lily deliberately sought to mingle a little, aware Alessandro rarely moved from her side.

‘Dance with me.’

Lily felt her eyes widen momentarily before she successfully masked her expression. A silent no rose and died in her throat at the thought of being enclosed in his arms moving to slow music beneath dimmed lighting.

‘I think …’

‘Don’t,’ he said quietly, and drew her onto the dance floor and into his arms.

Relax. She could do this. They were in the middle of a dance floor in a large room filled with people.

So why did she feel as if … what?

As if they were the only two people in the room and no one else existed.

It shouldn’t feel this good. To be perfectly in tune with every move, almost as if they’d danced together in a previous life. Madness, she mentally discounted.

His hold was loose, almost formal, yet instinct warned he would draw her close in against him if she attempted to put any distance between them.

Almost as if he sensed the pattern of her thoughts he pulled her in, and formal went out of the window.

Oh, my.

The breath hitched in her throat as he slid a hand down her spine to settle at its base.

This close his cologne teased her senses, meshing with freshly laundered clothing and the faint muskiness of man.

A sensual magic that swirled round her senses and stirred a longing for the impossible. It was easy to blame the haunting music and lyrics; the man who held her.

Perhaps something too complex to fully comprehend.

All she knew was the desire to capture the moment and hold onto it for as long as she could.

Inevitably the slow track concluded, the beat changed and Lily excused herself on the pretext of offering her congratulations to the newly engaged couple, before seeking to compliment the hostess on a lovely evening, and offer her thanks for the invitation.

‘You are most welcome. Sophia is a very dear friend, and it is a delight to have you join her tonight. I trust you are enjoying your visit here?’

‘Very much, thank you.’

Coffee, hot, strong and black with sugar, Lily decided as she made her way towards a table set to one side where staff were dispensing espresso. She accepted a cup, sipped the contents and had almost finished when she heard her name.

‘Lily.’

There was only one male voice whose slightly accented voice caused her pulse to accelerate, and she turned towards him.

‘Alessandro,’ she acknowledged with a smile. ‘Seeking coffee, too?’

‘You.’

Well, that’s succinct. ‘Really?’ She indulged in a deliberate pause. ‘Is there a particular reason?’

‘Several.’ He let that statement stand alone. ‘For the moment, one will suffice.’

‘And that is?’

She was something else, Alessandro acknowledged with wry humour as he curved an arm across the back of her waist.

‘Sophia is ready to leave.’

Lily attempted to put some distance between them, without success, as they stood together in the foyer while Sophia chatted with their hosts before moving out to the car.

Lily focused her attention on the faint tracery of lights as Alessandro’s car descended the winding road. It was late, and Alessandro’s attention during the evening filled her mind as she attempted to make sense of it.

Yet he fascinates you, an inner voice prompted.

So what if he does?

Maybe you should discover why.

Not any time soon, she assured silently. She’d already suffered one betrayal, why would she discard sanity and risk another?

It was a relief to reach the gates guarding her aunt’s spacious villa, and once indoors Alessandro bade them goodnight and leaned in to brush his lips to Sophia’s cheek before choosing Lily’s mouth in a light evocative caress that was over before it had really begun.

As he intended.

He caught the faint flare of helpless emotion in her eyes, then it was gone as she crossed the foyer and ascended the stairs to her suite.

It didn’t help knowing he occupied a guest suite not far from her own or that her imagination went into overdrive as she mentally pictured him discarding his clothes, one by one until nothing covered his impressive muscular frame.

And that was where mental imagery had to cease …

CHAPTER FOUR

IT WAS something of a relief to discover Alessandro had already left when Lily joined Sophia for breakfast the following morning.

‘He is attending a conference in Paris today, another in London tomorrow,’ Sophia declared. ‘Which gives me the opportunity to show you a few of the most famed historic places in Milan—art galleries, a wonderful palazzo, the Duomo, a few of the beautiful cathedrals.’

‘Sounds like fun.’ Lily responded with a smile.

And it was.

Examining the architectural masterpieces built several centuries ago, the exquisite workmanship created without machinery, the sense of ages past and the people who existed then, their lifestyles.

Lily became fascinated with the tales retold of high society passed down from generation to generation … undoubtedly a mixture of fable and truth.

There was a strong feeling of belonging that she found difficult to ignore, and she said as much.

‘Cara, why not stay?’ Sophia encouraged with apparent delight. ‘You know how much I love having you with me.’

It would be so easy to say yes, and she caught hold of her aunt’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘Let’s discuss it over lunch.’

Sophia offered a sparkling smile. ‘I know just the place.’

Indeed, Lily agreed a short while later as they entered a superbly decorated restaurant where the maître d’ greeted Sophia by name.

Introductions complete, they were escorted to a table set with fine linen, quality cutlery and stem-ware.

Nice, she noted with pleasure, lovely ambience, exclusive fittings, well-spaced tables and chairs provided an overall elegance including the pleasant staff.

So far, so good, Lily accorded in silent approval, aware of the inevitability of comparison with her own and other eating establishments. Something, as a chef and restaurant owner, she found difficult not to do.

The menu also earned her respect, so too did the wine list for its superb selection.

Together they conferred, ordered and Lily met her aunt’s interested gaze with a musing smile.

‘I’d like to find restaurant work and lease a small apartment in Milan,’ she intimated, and sought to explain her decision. ‘I have an excellent manager and staff back home, and I’m confident Parisi will continue to operate to a high standard.’

Sophia’s eyes sparkled as she clapped her hands. ‘So you are going to stay. Cara, this is wonderful news.’

It was easy to offer a light laugh. ‘I’m glad you approve.’

‘How could I not?’ Sophia lifted a hand, and the sommelier moved to their table. ‘Wine, please. Today we celebrate.’

‘Indeed,’ Carlo agreed.

The wine was a superb Sauvignon Blanc, with which Sophia delivered a toast to Lily’s Milanese sojourn, followed by a starter that proved a visual art form in presentation and taste. Surpassed, if it were possible, by the main. When it came to dessert, the exquisite meringue concoction defied description.

It was Lily who requested her compliments be relayed to the chef, the highly regarded Giovanni, whose name held a reverence superseded by few, according to Sophia.

Much to Lily’s surprise he appeared at the close of their meal.

‘Sophia. It is good to see you again,’ he greeted with affection. ‘You have a young friend with you today.’

‘My niece and god-daughter, Lily,’ Sophia relayed with a warm smile. ‘Who is also a chef with her own restaurant in Sydney.’

‘You are on holiday? Or do you intend to remain in Milan and find work immediately?’

She hadn’t given too much thought to a time-frame. ‘The latter.’

His interest appeared to quicken. ‘Do you speak fluent Italian?’

‘French, also,’ Sophia enlightened. ‘My niece spent a year in Paris studying French cuisine.’

‘We are soon to close for a few hours. When you have finished your coffee, Giorgio, the maître d', will escort you to the kitchen, and we will talk.’ He inclined his head. ‘Scusi, per favore.’

‘It sounds promising, cara,’ Sophia offered quietly. ‘How would you feel if Giovanni offers you a position here?’

Take it, a silent voice prompted. ‘Let’s not get too excited until we’ve talked,’ she said cautiously.

The coffee was rich, dark, aromatic, a perfect accompanying touch to end their meal.

It was then the maître d’ approached their table to politely enquire if the lunch had met their satisfaction, and received gratifying assurance before he directed his attention to Lily.

‘Signorina, if you are ready, I will escort you to the kitchen.’

Efficient was the first word that immediately came to mind as Lily entered the expansive work-space. Clean, uncluttered long stainless steel benches, good equipment, staff working well together, she noted in one sweeping glance.

Giovanni came forward and indicated a small office at the rear of the kitchen. ‘We will talk in private.’

His queries focused on her training, where, when, including her knowledge and experience. After which he showed her a variety of menus, whereupon they discussed ingredients, detailed methodology, in both Italian and French.

Testing her, she perceived, and she could only admire his professional approach.

‘I require an assistant chef,’ he explained. ‘Would you be prepared to complete a one-day trial tomorrow?’

Tomorrow?

There was no room for hesitation. ‘Yes.’

‘Bene.’ He mentioned hours and rate of pay. ‘If you work well, the position is yours.’ He stood and indicated the meeting was at an end. ‘I shall expect you in the kitchen at seven in the morning.’

It was more than she’d hoped for. Fate, she rationalized as she rejoined Sophia and Carlo, and the benefit of being in the right place at the right time.

‘It is yes, sì?’ Sophia enquired at once, and Lily’s smile said it all.

‘Conditional on a one-day trial tomorrow,’ she added, and found herself caught in an affectionate embrace.

‘In which you will excel,’ her aunt assured.

Such absolute certainty was touching, if a little premature. ‘Possibly.’ Hopefully.

‘Lily, there can be no doubt,’ Sophia gently chastised as she got to her feet. ‘We need to collect whatever you will need for tomorrow,’ her aunt decided as they exited the restaurant. ‘Carlo will arrange accommodation for us in Milan overnight, and he will be available tomorrow to deliver you to and from the restaurant. Meantime I’ll contact one of my friends who deals in the renting and leasing of real estate.’

‘Whoa,’ Lily protested with a cautionary gesture. ‘First, let me get through tomorrow.’

‘Of course.’

Sophia dalla Silvestri on a roll proved to be one very efficient woman as phone calls were made and received as Carlo returned them to Sophia’s Lake Como villa, where Lily packed for an overnight stay and a full working day in Giovanni’s kitchen.

‘Alessandro has offered the use of his apartment,’ Sophia relayed as Carlo negotiated evening traffic approaching the inner city streets of Milan.

You’re kidding me. Lily carefully schooled her expression. ‘How kind of him.’

‘He doesn’t expect to be in Milan until tomorrow.’

Please have him stay there overnight. The thought of sharing time and conducting polite conversation wasn’t high on her list of favourite pastimes when she needed a good night’s sleep.

Perhaps her plea was heeded, for there was no sign of him as she shared an evening meal with Sophia and Carlo … or when she retired to her guest suite.

Yet for some reason sleep appeared elusive, and despite the comfort of a luxurious bed, she tossed and turned, unable to still an active mind bent on a mental review of Giovanni’s menus, matching ingredients with her own preferred method of preparation, while pondering if her work would meet his rigid standard.

Oh, give yourself a break, she mentally chastised as she listed her qualifications, experience, knowledge.

You’ll be fine.

Sure she would, if only she could get some sleep.

Except after what seemed an endless amount of time, she threw aside the bedcovers, pulled a silk wrap over cotton sleep trousers and vest top, and made her way quietly downstairs to the kitchen.

A hot drink, calming meditative thoughts as she viewed the nightscape had to work.

The hot drink was fine … the meditative thoughts, not so much. As to the nightscape of twinkling street lights vying with coloured neon, the tracery of headlights from moving traffic made for minor distraction.

‘Unable to sleep?’

Lily clutched her cup with both hands in an effort not to spill the remaining contents as she spared a startled glance at the man who moved to stand at her side.

Every nerve-end in her body sprang into alert as she sought to gather a semblance of calm. ‘You’re supposed to be in London.’

In the dim light Alessandro seemed taller, broader, somehow. He’d removed his jacket, his tie, and rolled back his shirt-sleeves. The casual look failed to detract from the masculine intensity he managed to exude without effort. ‘I chose to return home.’

‘To an empty bed at this late hour?’ The words escaped before she gave them thought.

‘Instead of a physically active night in a woman’s arms?’

Lily’s cheeks filled with warm heat, hopefully not visible in the dim light. ‘If that’s your pleasure,’ she managed with a tinge of wry humour.

‘You imagine I bed women indiscriminately, Liliana?’

His teasing use of her full name ignited something deep inside, a sensual flare that threatened to destroy her peace of mind. Even thinking about his powerful male body engaged in intimacy was enough to liquefy her bones.

‘No comment,’ she managed, as if it didn’t matter to her in the slightest, and refused to admit on some deep level that it did.

His soft chuckle curled round her heart and squeezed a little. ‘Beautiful, is it not?’

‘The view?’

‘Of course.’

So why did the unbidden thought occur that it hadn’t been the nightscape to which he’d referred?

‘You are nervous of the day ahead?’

Of course he knew. If Carlo hadn’t relayed the news, then Sophia undoubtedly had.

‘A little,’ she said with innate honesty, and sensed him move to stand behind her.

‘Maybe this will help.’

His hands clasped her shoulders and began to knead the tense muscles, working them with an expertise that reefed a soft sigh from her throat.

It felt good. Dear heaven … so good. She closed her eyes, let her head roll forward, and simply gave in to his ministrations.

She shouldn’t let him do this … shouldn’t enjoy it so much.

Another minute, and I’ll move away and bid him ‘goodnight'.

She did … although it was three minutes, not one.

And it was she who felt bereft as he trailed light fingers down her cheek as she stood momentarily transfixed before she sought to escape.