started, so engrossed in present complexities that she hadn’t begun to think of future challenges—such as eating, sleeping and navigating a foreign city with no money. “Oh, I couldn’t,” she muttered, her mind whirling with plan-B possibilities, of which there were none.
“I insist,” Nick countered easily. “It’s in a very nice and convenient location, and has a great restaurant with shops nearby. It will be the perfect backdrop for your introduction to Rome, and will prevent you from having to scramble around for a room on credit.” There was humor in Nick’s voice as he spoke this last sentence, but Tiffany failed to find anything funny. She seriously doubted that there was a hotel on the continent that would extend credit to a traveling guest.
“I can’t accept that kind of generosity,” Tiffany said again, this time with less conviction. When Nick remained quiet, gently stroking his wisp of a mustache, she continued, “Only if I can pay you back, every cent.”
Nick smiled, and a blessed showing of even, white teeth sent her heart flip-flopping with a different kind of anxiety. She was quickly, quietly, falling in lust.
Who is this man who’s rescued me? Tiffany pondered the question as she and Nick continued casual conversation. And what is he expecting in exchange for his kindness?
3
The hotel was quaint, and plush at the same time—about ten minutes away from what Tiffany would later learn was the hub of Rome’s city center. Tiffany’s second thought, after the first one of how beautiful the building was, was the fact that it would probably take a third of this trip’s budget to pay for one night’s stay. She’d reserved a room in a modest bed-and-breakfast, but an inquiring phone call to the establishment had confirmed her fears and Nick’s assumption that she couldn’t check in without a major credit card. The thought to throw herself on the mercy of the restaurant where she’d be interning was quickly extinguished. She knew those people even less than she knew Nick, which was hardly at all. Except for one phone call, the communication regarding the internship had been by e-mail. Not only that, but Chef Riatoli was her mentor, at the top of his game. She wanted to impress him. Begging him for money before she’d even entered his kitchen was not the type of impression she had in mind. Just one night. Then my traveler’s checks will be here and I can be on my way.
A doorman in top hat and tails stepped up to the town car and made an exaggerated sweep of his hands as he opened the door. “Welcome back, Mr. Rollins, sir.” His accent was lyrical and his eyes twinkled. “Always a pleasure to have you.”
“Grazie, Alberto,” Nick replied. He continued chatting but Tiffany couldn’t understand a word he said. What was perfectly clear, however, was how sexy Nick sounded speaking Italian. She tried not to be impressed, and failed, especially once they stepped inside the extravagantly appointed hotel lobby.
Okay, maybe half my budget, Tiffany thought as they entered. The deep mahogany wood along the walls and the front desk gleamed under the sparkling light from pure gold chandeliers. Tiffany’s feet sank into plush, dark carpeting before the pile gave way to a bronzed, polished marble. All words escaped her as she tried to appear casual and nonchalant in what was rapidly becoming a fairy tale. But reality came crashing down around her when she heard the manager’s response to Nick’s request for a second room.
“I’m sorry, sir, but there are no other rooms available.”
“Excuse me?” Nick responded in English, obviously not used to being told no, no matter what the question.
“All of the rooms are taken, sir. We are sold out,” the manager said, a look pleading for understanding in his eyes. “I can recommend another fine hotel that’s just down the way—”
“Never mind that,” Nick interrupted, silencing the man with a wave of his authoritative hand. And then, seeing the fear in the eyes of an employee not wanting to piss off one of his richest customers, Nick softened. “It’s okay,” he continued in Italian. “I will work it out.” And then he turned to Tiffany. “You’ll stay in my suite.”
“No,” Tiffany said, without hesitation. And once again, the vague feeling of discomfort that had plagued her at various times since their meeting surfaced. “I couldn’t do that,” she slowly continued. Not that bedding down with this fine specimen of human flesh wasn’t tempting—it was. It just wasn’t prudent. Tiffany was here to launch her career into the culinary world, a competitive, all-consuming endeavor. She needed to be ready to meet Chef on Monday morning, and didn’t need to be distracted by fleeting fancies of delusional love.
Nick nodded curtly to the manager before grasping Tiffany’s arm and directing them both away from the desk. “This suite,” he began by way of explanation, “has two bedrooms, two baths, a nice-sized living/dining area, and fully furnished kitchen. You’ll be safe and secure in your own room, which is on the other side of the living room…if that’s what you want.”
“I need my own room, not one in your suite.” Tiffany knew she was hardly in a position to make demands, but the feeling of losing control was increasing, along with her anxiety. She glanced over at Tuffy peeking out of her oversized travel bag, but squelched the urge to reach for teddy bear backup.
Nick followed Tiffany’s gaze and released a long breath. He eyed her critically before walking back over to the desk and speaking to the manager. “He’s checking on the other hotel,” he announced when he rejoined her in the lobby’s sitting area.
They didn’t have long to wait. The hotel manager came over to where they sat, and Tiffany didn’t have to speak Italian to know his search had not been successful.
“There’s a cardiologist conference going on in the area,” Nick translated after he and the manager had spoken. “All of the five-star hotels are booked solid.”
“I don’t have to stay in a five-star hotel,” Tiffany said to the manager. “I’ll take anything.”
Instead of talking to Tiffany, the manager looked at Nick.
Why are you looking at him? Didn’t you just hear me say I’d take anything? Tiffany thought this but did not voice it. No money, no ID, and no place to go were standing in between her and her much-loved independence.
Nick checked his watch. “That’s fine, but we don’t have time for that tonight. You’re welcome to stay in my suite, and if you still want to move to another hotel tomorrow, I’ll be more than happy to help you get settled in one that is more to your liking.”
Tiffany hid a frown, stifled a sigh, and silently followed Nick as he walked over to the front desk to pick up the room keys. What choice do I have? She didn’t like the feeling of helplessness that had accompanied her unspoken decision to share Nick’s suite. This feeling warred with the thought that said she should be grateful that Nick was here to offer her a room. I can’t deny that, she thoughtfully concluded, trying to shake off the angst she felt and replace it with gratitude. After all, it’s just one night. Even so, she lifted Tuffy from the cart just as the bellhop pushed the container bearing their luggage toward the elevator, and snuck another look at the handsome man who’d become her savior. A squiggly feeling slid from her navel to her nana as she eyed the strong, capable hands, one clutching a briefcase, the other, an iPhone. Tiffany clutched the bear, hoping that more than protecting her from Nick, her furry friend could protect her from herself.
4
Later, Tiffany would congratulate herself on not gasping. Nick’s penthouse suite was the most beautiful place she’d
