Rebecca Winters - The Vineyards Of Calanetti

Because she had to tell him about her fiancé.

She wasn’t engaged.

She had responded to him.

Emory laughed. “Occupational hazard.”

Her gaze ambled to Rafe’s again. All they’d had the night before was a taste of what could be between them. Yes, he knew he’d warned her off. But she’d still kissed him. He’d given her plenty of time to move away, but she’d stayed. Knowing his terms—that he didn’t want a relationship—she’d accepted his kiss.

With their gazes locked, she couldn’t deny it. He could see the heat in her blue eyes.

“From here on out, when we create a new dish or perfect an old one,” Emory continued, oblivious to the nonverbal conversation she and Rafe were having, “you will sample.”

“I want her to have more than a sample.”

The words sprang from him without any thought. But he wouldn’t take them back. He no longer wanted an affair with her. He now longed for it, yearned for it in the depths of his being. And they were adults. They weren’t kids. Love affairs were part of life. She might get hurt, or because they were both lovers and coworkers, she might actually understand him. His life. His time constraints. His passion for his dream—

She might be the perfect lover.

The truth of that rippled through him. It might not be smart to gamble with losing her, but he didn’t think he’d lose her. In fact, he suddenly, passionately believed a long-term affair was the answer to their attraction.

“And I know more than a sample would be bad for me.” She shifted her gaze to Emory before smiling and walking out of the kitchen.

Rafe shook his head and went back to his cooking. He had no idea if she was talking about his food or the subtle suggestion of an affair he’d made, but if she thought that little statement of hers was a deterrent, she was sadly mistaken.

Never in his life had he walked away from something he really wanted and this would not be an exception. Especially since he finally saw how perfect their situation could be.

* * *

Dani walked out of the kitchen and pressed her hand to her jumpy stomach. Those silver-gray eyes could get more across in one steamy look than most men could in foreplay.

To bolster her confidence, which had flagged again, she reminded herself of her final thoughts as she’d fallen asleep the night before. Rafe was a mercurial man. Hot one minute. Cold the next. And for all she knew, he could seduce her one day and dump her the next. She needed security. Mancini’s could be that security. She would not risk that for an affair. No matter how sexy his eyes were when he said it. How deep his voice.

She walked to the podium. Two couples awaited. She escorted them to a table. As the day wore on, customer after customer chatted with her about their tours or, if they were locals, their homes and families. The waitstaff laughed and joked with each other. The flow of people coming in and going out, eating, serving, clearing tables surrounded her, reminded her that this was why she wanted to stay in Italy, at Mancini’s. Not for a man, a romance, but for a life. The kind of interesting, fun, exciting life she’d never thought she’d get.

She wanted this much more than she wanted a fling that ended in a broken heart and took away the job she loved.

At the end of the night, Emory came out with the white pay envelopes. He passed them around and smiled when he gave one to Dani. “This will be better than last time.”

“So my raise is in here?”

“Yes.” He nodded once and strode away.

Dani tucked the envelope into her skirt pocket and helped the waitresses with cleanup. When they were done, she grabbed her coat, not wanting to tempt fate by being the only remaining employee when Rafe came out of the kitchen.

She walked to her car, aware that Rafe’s estimation of her worth sat by her hip, half afraid to open it. He had to value her enough to pay her well or she couldn’t stay. She would not leave the security of her teaching job and an apartment she could afford, just to be scraping by in a foreign country, no matter how much she loved the area, its people and especially her job.

After driving the car into a space in Louisa’s huge garage, Dani entered the house through the kitchen.

Louisa sat at the table, enjoying her usual cup of tea before bedtime. “How did it go? Was he nice? Was he romantic? Or did he ignore you?”

Dani slipped off her coat. “He hinted that we should have an affair.”

“That’s not good.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not letting him change the rules he made in Rome. He said that for us to work together there could be nothing between us.” She sucked in a breath. “So he can’t suddenly decide it’s okay for us to have an affair.”

Louisa studied her. “I think you’re smart to keep it that way, but are you sure it’s what you want?”

“Yes. Today customers reminded me of why I love this job. Between lunch and dinner, I worked with Emory to organize the schedule for ordering supplies and streamline it. He showed me a lot of the behind-the-scenes jobs it takes to make Mancini’s work. Every new thing I see about running a restaurant seems second nature to me.”

“And?”

“And, as I’ve thought all along, I have instincts for the business. This could be more than a job for me. It could be a real career. If Rafe wants to risk that by making a pass at me, I think I have the reasoning set in my head to tell him no.”

Louisa’s questioning expression turned into a look of joy. “So you’re staying?”

“Actually—” she waved the envelope “—it all depends on what’s in here. If my salary doesn’t pay me enough for my own house or condo, plus food and spending money, I can’t stay.”

Louisa crossed her fingers for luck. “Here’s hoping.”

Dani shook her head. “You know, you’re so good to me I want to stay just for our friendship.”

Louise groaned. “Open the darned thing already!”

She sliced a knife across the top of the envelope. When she saw the amount of her deposit, she sat on the chair across from Louisa. “Oh, my God.”

Louisa winced. “That bad?”

“It’s about twice what I expected.” She took a breath. “What’s he doing?”

Louisa laughed. “Trying to keep you?”

“The amount is so high that it’s actually insulting.” She rose from her seat, grabbed her coat and headed for the door. “Half this check would have been sufficient to keep me. This amount? It’s—offensive.” Almost as if he was paying her to sleep with him. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words to Louisa. But how coincidental was it that he’d dropped hints that he wanted to have an affair, then paid her more money than she was worth?

The insult of it vibrated through her. The nerve of that man!

“Where are you going?”

“To toss this back in his face.”

Yanking open the kitchen door, she bounded out into the cold, cold garage. She jumped into the old car and headed back to Monte Calanetti, parking on a side street near the building where Rafe had shown her the almost-perfect condo.

But as she strode into the lobby, she remembered she needed a key to get into the elevator that would take her to the penthouse. Hoping to ask the doorman for help, she groaned when she saw the desk was empty.

Maybe she should take this as a sign that coming over here was a bad idea?

She sucked in a breath. No. Their situation was too personal to talk about at Mancini’s. And she wanted to yell. She wanted to vent all her pent-up frustrations and maybe even throw a dish or two. She had to talk to him now. Alone.

She walked over to the desk and eyed the phone. Luckily, one of the marked buttons said Penthouse. She lifted the receiver and hit the button.