The Vineyards Of Calanetti. Rebecca Winters
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He broke the eye contact and headed for Allegra. “Emory tells me you’re interested in earning some extra money and you’re willing to be Dani’s fill-in.”
Her eyes brightened. “Sì.”
“Excellent. You will come in Monday and Tuesday for Dani, then.” He felt Dani’s gaze burning into him, felt his face redden with color like a schoolboy in the same room with his crush. Ridiculous.
He sucked in a breath, pasted a professional smile on his face and walked over to Dani. He handed the sheet of paper to her. “You wanted a schedule. Here is your schedule.”
Her blue eyes rose slowly to meet his. She said, “Thanks.”
The blood in his veins slowed to a crawl. The noise in the dining room disappeared. Every nuance of their kiss flooded his memory. Along with profound disappointment that their first kiss would be their last.
He fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut. Why was he thinking these things about a woman who was taken? All he’d wanted was an affair! Now that he knew they couldn’t have one, he should just move on.
“You wanted time off. I am granting you time off.”
He turned and walked away, satisfied that he sounded like his normal self. Because he was his normal self. No kiss...no woman would change him.
Lunch service began. Within minutes, he was caught up in the business of supervising meal prep. As course after course was served, an unexpected thought came to Rafe. An acknowledgment of something Dani had said. He didn’t eat a multicourse lunch. He liked soup and salad. Was Dani right?
* * *
Dani worked her shift, struggling to ward off the tightness in her chest every time Rafe came out of the kitchen. Memories of his kiss flooded her. But the moment of pure pleasure had been darkened by the realization that she had a proposal at home...yet she’d kissed another man. And it had been a great kiss. The kind of kiss a woman loses herself in. The kind of kiss that could have swept her off her feet if she wasn’t already committed.
She went home in between lunch and dinner and joined Louisa on a walk through the house as she mentally charted everything that needed to be repaired. The overwhelmed villa owner wasn’t quite ready to do an actual list. It was as if Louisa needed to get her bearings or begin acclimating to the reality of the property she owned before she could do anything more than clean.
At five, Dani put on the black trousers and white blouse again and returned to the restaurant. The time went more smoothly than the lunch session, mostly because Rafe was too busy to come into the dining room, except when a customer specifically asked to speak with him. When she walked into the kitchen to get him, she kept their exchanges businesslike, and he complied, not straying into more personal chitchat. So when he asked for time with her at the end of the night again, she shivered.
She didn’t think he intended to fire her. He’d just given her a schedule. He also wouldn’t kiss her again. He seemed to respect the fact that there was another man in the picture, even if she had sort of stretched the truth about being engaged. But that was for both of their benefits. She had a proposal waiting. Her life was confusing enough already. There was no point muddying the waters with a fling. No point in leading Rafe on.
She had no idea why he wanted to talk to her, but she decided to be calm about it.
When he walked out of the kitchen, he indicated that she should sit at the bar, while he grabbed a bottle of wine.
After a sip, she smiled. “I like this one.”
“So you are a fan of Chianti.”
She looked at the wine in the glass, watched how the light wove through it. “I don’t know if I’m a fan. But it’s good.” She took a quiet breath and glanced over at him. “You wanted to talk with me?”
“Today, I saw what you meant about lunch being too much food for some diners.”
She turned on her seat, his reply easing her mind enough that she could be comfortable with him. “Really?”
“Yes. We should have a lunch menu. We should offer the customary meals diners expect in Italy, but we should also accommodate those who want smaller lunches.”
“So I made a suggestion that you’re going to use?”
He caught her gaze. “You’re not a stupid woman, Dani. You know that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so bold in your comments about the restaurant.”
She grinned. “I am educated.”
He shook his head. “And you have instincts.” He picked up his wineglass. “I’d like you to work with me on the few selections we’ll add.”
Her heart sped up. “Really?”
“Yes. It was your suggestion. I believe you should have some say in the menu.”
That made her laugh.
“And what is funny about that?” His voice dripped with incredulity, as if he had no idea how to follow her sometimes. His hazy gray eyes narrowed in annoyance.
She sipped her wine, delaying her answer to torment him. He was always so in control that he was cute when he was baffled. And it was fun to see him try to wrangle himself around it.
Finally she said, “You’re not the big, bad wolf you want everybody to believe.”
His eyes narrowed a little more as he ran his thumb along his chin. His face was perfect. Sharp angles, clean lines, accented by silvery eyes and dark, dark hair that gave him a dramatic, almost mysterious look.
“I don’t mind suggestions to make the business better. Ask Emory. He’s had a lot more say than you would think.”
She smiled, not sure why he so desperately wanted to cling to his bossy image. “I still say you’re not so bad.”
* * *
Rafe’s blood heated. The urge to flirt with Dani, and then seduce her, roiled like the sea before a storm. He genuinely believed she was too innocent to realize he could take her comments about his work demeanor as flirting, and shift the conversation into something personal. But he also knew they couldn’t work together if she continued to be so free with him.
“Be careful what you say, little Dani, and how you take our conversations. Because I am bad. I am not the gentleman you might be accustomed to. Though I respect your engagement, if you don’t, I’ll take that as permission to do whatever I want. You can’t have a fiancé at home and free rein to flirt here.”
Her eyes widened. But he didn’t give her a chance to comment. He grabbed the pad and pencil he’d brought to the bar and said, “So what should we add to this lunch menu you want?”
She licked her lips, took a slow breath as if shifting her thoughts to the task at hand and said, “Antipasto and minestrone soup. That’s obvious. But you could add a garden salad, club sandwich, turkey sandwich and hamburgers.” She slowly met his gaze. “That way you’re serving a need without going overboard.”
With the exception