she hadn’t really needed to consult the book.
He was very irritating, she decided vehemently. And those bold, piercing dark eyes of his were unnerving her completely.
OK, he was probably the most handsome man she had ever set eyes on—but didn’t he just know it. The suit he was wearing looked designer and expensive and he had the most perfect, powerful physique.
Quickly she pulled herself together; she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking that she was interested in him, because she wasn’t. He was well out of her league—a man like him would only date the world’s most beautiful women and that certainly wasn’t her.
But anyway, she had more important things to think about— namely, trying to save her restaurant. She had a meeting with her bank in an hour and she needed to be able to convince them that she could ride out this recession, otherwise…well…otherwise she could lose everything.
‘I’ll get someone to show you to your table.’ Hastily she looked around for her receptionist, Emma, but she was nowhere in sight.
Where was she? Victoria wondered anxiously. She really didn’t want to leave the security of the desk. There was something about the way this man was looking at her that was making her unbearably self-conscious.
Their eyes clashed across the counter. ‘Sorry about this—won’t be a minute.’
‘Perhaps you should show me to the table,’ he said briskly. ‘I’m on a tight schedule.’
‘Oh…yes, of course.’ Annoyed with herself for being so pathetic, Victoria tipped her chin up and moved. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. One of her strengths was that she had good people skills. She dealt with customers every day without a bother; in fact, her regular clientele loved it when she was front of house because she always remembered them and was able to engage them in conversations about themselves.
Antonio watched as she walked around from behind the desk and then led him through the busy restaurant. She was wearing flat heels that did nothing for her. But she did have nice ankles, he noticed, and her legs looked decent enough…well, the little he could see of them. His eyes moved upwards over her body. It wasn’t that she looked a mess, because she didn’t; in fact, she was smartly dressed. It was just that she was—what was the word for it?—staid, yes, that was it. For a young woman she was definitely staid. It was as if she were afraid that a man might look at her in any way that was sexual.
The notion intrigued him.
As she turned to pull out a chair for him she caught the way he was looking at her and immediately a red-hot wave of embarrassment seared through her. She’d imagined she could feel his eyes on her, assessing her from top to toe as they walked through the restaurant, but she’d told herself not to be silly. Now she was sure he had been looking at her, weighing her up with that gleam in his dark eyes as if she were some sub-species worthy of amusement.
Obviously he thought she was a real plain Jane. Not that she cared whether he found her attractive or not. She didn’t have time for such things, but strangely it still hurt.
‘I’ll get a waitress to take your order,’ she mumbled.
‘No.’ He detained her before she could move away, his manner firm, as if he were used to issuing orders and having them obeyed. ‘As I said, I’m in a hurry. So you can take my order.’
She watched as he reached for the menu that was sitting on the table. Part of her wanted to just walk away and ignore the command. But for the sake of good customer relations the sensible side of her wouldn’t allow it. ‘OK…’ She tried to snap back into work mode and forget everything else. ‘I can recommend the chef’s lunchtime specials. The Penne Arrabiata and the cannelloni.’
‘Is that so?’ He looked up at her with that gleam in his dark eyes again and she could feel the precious grip she had on her composure starting to slip. Probably recommending Italian dishes to an Italian wasn’t her best move.
‘They are very good.’ She tried to angle her chin up further. She had the utmost confidence in her chef. ‘Better than my Italian pronunciation of them, I assure you.’
He laughed at that. ‘Actually, I didn’t think your Italian pronunciation was too bad. You just need to roll your tongue around the words a little more.’ He proceeded to pronounce both dishes again in a slow smooth tone that made her blood start to heat up to boiling point. How did he manage to make two ordinary dishes from a menu sound like some kind of prelude to lovemaking? she wondered distractedly. ‘Well…I’ll…I’ll bear that in mind,’ she retorted stiffly.
‘Yes, you do that.’ Once more there was that glimmer of amusement in his eyes and then he returned his attention to the menu.
She knew her manner was uptight, yet she couldn’t seem to help it. He was having the strangest effect on her. He made her feel gauche and unsure of herself…and he made her aware of herself as a woman…
The knowledge trickled through her like ice.
Antonio glanced up and caught the vulnerable light in her green eyes. It was only there for a second before it was hidden behind a sweep of long dark lashes, replaced by that wary, guarded look of hers.
‘So have you made up your mind?’ she asked him, now fiddling nervously with the pair of glasses that sat perched on the end of her nose.
For a second he was distracted from thoughts of food as he wondered what had prompted that expression in her eyes—strange really, because he wasn’t interested in her. She certainly wasn’t his type.
He snapped the menu shut and handed it back to her. ‘Yes, I’ll go with your recommendation and have the Penne Arrabiata.’
‘And to drink?’ She pushed the wine list in his direction.
‘Water, thanks, I need to keep a clear head for business this afternoon.’ ‘OK.’ She started to turn away from him but he detained her. ‘By the way, is your boss in today?’ he asked idly.
‘My boss?’ She looked back at him with a frown.
‘Yes. The owner of the establishment,’ he enunciated clearly.
‘You’re looking at her.’
The surprise on his handsome features amused her.
‘You’re Victoria Heart?’
‘That’s right. Was there something you wanted to speak to me about?’
‘No, not really.’ For a second his eyes held with hers. For some reason he’d expected her to point out the woman now standing by the front reception area. ‘You’re younger than I expected you to be.’
‘Am I?’ She looked at him in puzzlement. ‘I’m twenty-three. Sorry…but why are you interested?’
‘Just curious.’ His mobile phone rang and he took it out to answer it. ‘Thanks for the lunch recommendation.’ He gave her a brief smile and turned his attention to the call.
She knew she was being dismissed and she would gratefully have hurried away, except before she could move she heard him say, ‘Yes, Antonio Cavelli speaking.’
Antonio
