Under The Tuscan Sun.... Michelle Douglas

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it. She was attracted to him.

      But physically. Just physically.

      She turned slowly.

      Bright with anger, his gaze bored into her. “What in the hell did you think you were doing?”

      With electricity careening through her, she pulled in a shaky breath. “When?”

      “When the customer asked to speak with me!” He threw his hands in the air. “Did you think I did not see? I see everything! I heard that man ask to speak with me and heard you suggest that he talk to you.”

      She sucked in a breath to steady herself. “I was trying to head off a disaster.”

      “A disaster? He wanted to compliment the chef and you tried to dissuade him. Did you want the compliment for yourself?”

      She gasped. “No! I was worried he was going to complain about the food.” She took a step closer, now every bit as angry as he was. He was so concerned about his own agenda, he couldn’t even tell when somebody was trying to save his sorry butt. “And that you’d scream at him and the whole dining room would hear.”

      He matched the step she took. “Oh, really? You saw how I spoke to him. I love my customers.”

      She held her ground. Her gaze narrowed on him. Her heart raced. “Yeah, well I know that now, but I didn’t know it when he asked to speak with you.”

      “You overstepped your boundaries.” He took another step, and put them so close her whole body felt energized—

      Oh, no.

      Now she knew what was going on. She didn’t just think Rafe was handsome. She wasn’t just physically attracted to him. She was completely attracted to him. And she wasn’t yelling at him because she was defending herself. She was yelling because it was how he communicated with her. Because he was a stubborn, passionate man, was this how she flirted with him?

      Not at all happy with these feelings, she stepped away from him. Softening her voice, she said, “It won’t happen again.”

      He laughed. “What? You suddenly back down?”

      She peered over at him. Why hadn’t he simply said, “Thank you,” and walked away? That’s what he usually did.

      Unless Louisa was right and he was attracted to her, too?

      The mere thought made her breathless. She sneaked a peek at him—he was distinguished looking with his long hair tied back and his white smock still crisp and clean after hours of work. The memory of his laughter with the customer fluttered through her, stealing her breath again. He was a handsome man, very, very good at what he did and dedicated to his customers. He could have his pick of women. And he was attracted to her?

      Preposterous. She didn’t for a second believe it, but she was definitely attracted to him. And she was going to have to watch her step.

      She cleared her throat. “Unless you want me to hang out until the dinner crowd, I’ll be going home now.”

      He shook his head. “Do not overstep your boundaries again.”

      She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Oh, believe me, I’ll be very, very careful from here on out.”

      * * *

      Rafe watched her walk away. His racing heart had stilled. The fire in his blood had fizzled. Disappointment rattled through him. He shook his head and walked back into the kitchen.

      “Done yelling at Daniella?”

      Rafe scowled at Emory. “She oversteps her place.”

      “She’s trying to keep the peace. To keep the customers happy. And, in case you haven’t noticed, they are happy. Today they were particularly happy.”

      He sniffed in disdain. “I opened the dining room to the view from the back windows.”

      Emory laughed. “Seriously? You’re going with that?”

      “All right! So customers like her.”

      “And no one seems to be hanging around hoping you’ll lose your temper.”

      He scowled.

      “She did exactly what we needed to have done. She shifted the temperament in the dining room. Customers are enjoying your food. You should be thrilled to have her around.”

      Rafe turned away with a “Bah.” But deep down inside he was thrilled to have her around.

      And maybe that wasn’t as much of a good thing as Emory thought it was. Because the whole time he was yelling at her, he could also picture himself kissing her.

      Worse, the part of him that usually toed the line wasn’t behaving. That part kept reminding him she was temporary. She might be an employee, but she wasn’t staying forever. He could have an affair with this beautiful, passionate woman and not have to worry about repercussions because in a few weeks, she’d be gone. No scene. No broken heart. No expectations. They could have a delicious affair.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      DANIELLA RETURNED HOME that night exhausted. Louisa hadn’t waited up for her, but from the open cabinet doors and trash bags sitting by the door, it was apparent she’d begun cleaning the kitchen.

      She dragged herself up the stairs, showered and crawled into bed, refusing to think about the possibility that Rafe might be attracted to her. Not only did she have a marriage proposal waiting at home, but, seriously? Her with Rafe? Mr. Unstable with the former foster child who needed stability? That was insanity.

      She woke early the next morning and, after breakfast, she and Louisa loaded outdated food from the pantry into even more trash bags.

      Wiping sweat from her brow, Louisa shook her head at the bag of garbage she’d just hauled to the growing pile by the door. “We don’t even know what day to set out the trash.”

      Busy sweeping the now-empty pantry, Dani said, “You could always ask Nico.”

      Louisa rolled her eyes. “I’m not tromping over to his villa to ask about trash.”

      “You could call him. I have his card.” She frowned. “Or Rafe has his card. I could ask for it back tonight.”

      “No, thanks. I’ll figure this out.”

      “Or maybe I could ask the girls at the restaurant? Given that we’re so close to Monte Calanetti, one of them probably lives in the village. She’ll know what day the trash truck comes by.”

      Louisa brightened. “Yes. Thank you. That would be great.”

      But Dani frowned as she swept the last of the dirt onto her dustpan. Louisa’s refusal to have anything to do with Nico had gone from unusual to impractical. Still, it wasn’t her place to say anything.

      She

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