Rebecca Winters - The Vineyards Of Calanetti

“I need to get home. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight, but I’m exhausted.”

Nico rose, too. “It is late. Dinner was something of an afterthought. I promised Marianna I’d get her back at a decent hour. But I knew you’d want to see her after her year away, Rafe.”

Rafe kissed her hand. “Absolutely. I’m just sorry she’s too tired for us to catch up.”

Dani frowned. Nico’s little sister didn’t look tired. She looked pale. Biting her lower lip, Dani realized she’d only known one other person who’d looked that way—

Rafe waved her over. “Say good-night to Nico and his sister.”

Keeping her observations to herself, Dani smiled. “Good night, Marianna.”

Marianna returned her smile. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you since Nico loves Rafe’s food.”

Nico laughed, took both her hands and kissed them. “Good night, Daniella. Tell your roomie I said hello.”

Daniella’s face reddened. Louisa had been the topic of most of Nico’s questions when she’d sat with him and his sister, but there was no way in hell she’d tell Louisa Nico had mentioned her. Still, she smiled. Every time she talked to Nico, she liked him more. Which only made Louisa’s dislike all the more curious.

“Good night, Nico.”

After helping Marianna with her coat, Rafe walked his friends to their car. Dani busied herself helping the waitresses finish dining room cleanup. She didn’t see Rafe return, but when a half hour went by, she assumed he’d come in through the back door to the kitchen.

Of course, he could be talking to beautiful Marianna. She might be with her brother, but that brother was a friend of Rafe’s. And Nico had said he wanted to bring Marianna to Mancini’s because he knew Rafe would want to see her. They probably had all kinds of stories to reminisce about. Marianna might be too young to have been his first kiss, his first love, but she was an adult now. A beautiful woman.

Realizing how possible it was that Rafe might be interested in Marianna, Dani swayed, but she quickly calmed herself. If she decided to stay, watching him with other women would be part of her life. She had to get used to this. She had to get accustomed to seeing him flirt, seeing beautiful women like Marianna look at him with interest.

She tossed a chair to the table with a little more force than was necessary.

Gio frowned. “Are you okay?”

She smiled. “Yes. Perfect.”

“If you’re not okay, Allegra and I can finish.”

“I’m fine.” She forced her smile to grow bigger. “Just eager to be 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.