The Italians: Rico, Antonio and Giovanni. Kate Hardy

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fine.

      He took a deep breath. At least now he could see Ella.

      Except she wasn’t waiting for him in the lounge next door to the hotel reception, as he’d expected. Maybe she’d missed the message and was waiting for him in her room, he thought, and rang her room. Again, there was no answer.

      He frowned and went over to the reception desk. ‘Gaby, did you manage to get hold of Signora Chandler?’

      ‘Ah, Signor Rossi. I’m afraid not. She’d already checked out and left.’

      What? He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why had Ella gone without a single word to him?

      ‘Maria booked a taxi for her.’ Gabriella gestured to the other receptionist.

      ‘A taxi?’

      ‘To the airport.’

      ‘Right.’ He could see that Maria was busy with a guest. ‘Can you ask her to come to my office for a quick word when she’s free?’

      ‘Of course, Signor Rossi.’

      ‘Thank you,’ he said, keeping a lid on the hurt and anger that threatened to bubble over, and headed for his office.

      ‘Rico? I thought you were taking three days off?’ Lina said when he walked through the door.

      ‘I changed my mind.’ Warning her silently not to ask, he closed his office door behind him.

      Ten minutes later, there was a rap on the door. ‘Signor Rossi? Gaby said you wanted a word.’ Maria looked worried.

      ‘Come and sit down,’ he said, forcing himself to give her a reassuring smile. It wasn’t her fault that Ella had left without even saying goodbye. ‘I believe you booked a taxi for Signora Chandler?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Did she leave a message for me?’

      ‘No.’ Maria frowned. ‘Is something wrong?’

      Yes. But how could he explain it without making himself look a fool? ‘She’s a friend of the family,’ he fibbed. ‘I was going to give her a lift to the airport this morning, but then …’

      Maria rolled her eyes. ‘Signor Banks.’

      He should’ve reminded her that they should always be ultra-polite about a guest, however difficult, but he understood exactly what she meant. ‘Gaby was going to give Signora Chandler the message that I’d been delayed, but she’d already left before Gaby could find her.’

      ‘But Signora Chandler pointed you out in the lobby and asked me who you were. I told her.’ Maria frowned. ‘If you were giving her a lift to the airport, why didn’t she know who you were?’

      Oh, great. Now he was tangled in a real web of lies. His own fault, for not being honest in the first place. All he could do was bluff it out. ‘Nonna knows her grandparents. We don’t really know each other.’ That last bit at least was true. He’d thought he knew Ella—but how wrong he’d been. ‘I guess she saw I was busy and thought I might not be able to get her to the airport in time.’ He smiled at Maria. ‘I just wondered if she’d left me a message. But no matter. Thanks for clearing that up for me.’

      ‘Prego.’ Maria smiled back and left his office.

      Rico leaned back in his chair. Maria had told Ella who he really was—and Ella had obviously realised that he’d lied to her. But it had been a white lie. He hadn’t done it to hurt her, and she’d completely overreacted to the situation.

      Perhaps it was just as well that she’d gone and they’d never have to see each other again. He could go back to his normal life. No more strange feelings that something was missing. What he’d shared with her had been good sex and nothing more. A holiday fling. He’d obviously spent too long in the sun—and that crazy idea of trying to make things work between London and Rome was just that. A crazy idea. Ella Chandler was nothing special. He didn’t need her, he didn’t want her, and he was perfectly happy with his life as it was.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      FOR the next three weeks, Ella was busy—more than busy. She spent her time working her way through all the local cafés and sandwich businesses to see if they wanted to stock her cupcakes, talking to managers at function rooms and taking samples of her cakes to see if they’d put her on their recommended supplier lists for celebration cake bakers, planning the launch party for Ella’s Cakes, and making sure that all the invitations were sent out on time.

      When she crawled into bed at night, she should’ve slept like the dead. Except she couldn’t get Rico out of her head. Which made her even crosser with herself. Why was she thinking about a man who’d lied to her? Especially as she couldn’t see a single reason for him to need to lie.

      Yet still she dreamed of him. Every single night. And it was driving her crazy.

      Rico couldn’t get Ella out of his head. He kept telling himself that it was because she was the one who’d ended it and that usually he was the one who called it quits; it was just hurt pride making him feel that way. She wasn’t anything special. He was being an idiot.

      And yet he found himself brooding. He didn’t even sit on his rooftop terrace any more, watching the sun go down and the lights of Rome bloom in the darkness—because all he could see was Ella and the delight on her face as she looked out over Rome.

      He really needed to snap out of it. Focus. It wasn’t as if he had nothing better to do. He had all the details through of The Fountain, a boutique hotel in Bloomsbury; the initial figures stacked up, so all he needed to do was go and see it for himself, see if his gut feel told him it was the right place for Rossi Hotels to expand in London.

      London.

      Where Ella was.

      Maybe he should look her up while he was there. Then he could prove to himself once and for all that what they’d had was nothing out of the ordinary—and he could finally get her out of his head.

      Julia plucked a leaflet from Ella’s hand and replaced it with a glass of wine.

      Ella shook her head. ‘I don’t need this, Ju—’

      ‘Yes, you do. Just one sip,’ Julia said. ‘It’ll help you relax.’

      ‘I’m fine,’ Ella protested.

      ‘I’ve known you since we were ten. I know when you’re panicking,’ Julia said dryly. ‘And you really don’t need to, you know. Everyone’s going to turn up and it’s going to be a raging success.’

      ‘That, or the local ducks are going to be having the biggest party in the world tomorrow morning,’ Ella said gloomily.

      Julia just laughed. ‘The ducks don’t stand a chance. Once people taste your cakes, they’ll be thinking up excuses to have cakes made for them.’

      Ella put the wine down untouched

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