The Playboy of Rome. Jennifer Faye

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      “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 СКАЧАТЬ