‘And you didn’t want to stay there?’
‘I’d lived there with him for a while,’ she said quietly, refusing to think too deeply about that time. ‘That way Mum didn’t get punished more harshly when she came back into the country. She just had to pay a fine and do some community service and he left her alone.’ She caught his frown. ‘I was eighteen—no longer a child. It was my choice.’
‘To protect your mother from repercussions?’
‘Of course. She’s my mother, Rafe. But he’s my father and he and I both missed out. He wanted time with me and I wanted time with him.’
His expression tightened but he nodded slowly. ‘How did it work out?’
‘It was odd, initially,’ she admitted. ‘He’d remarried a few years back and I have a couple of half-brothers. I got on with them okay.’ She sent him a quick sorry smile. ‘They’re cute.’
‘But?’
She bit her lip. ‘They’re a family.’
‘That you didn’t feel part of?’
‘It’s complicated.’ She shrugged it off and put on her smile. ‘But I did my training when I was there. A really good culinary arts school, I did every extra course I could. Then I worked. Got great experience.’
‘Evidently.’ He nodded at the plate. ‘So you kept busy.’
‘Yes, and it was good. It was a great time. I was lucky that they all welcomed me.’
‘Lucky,’ he echoed.
‘Yeah.’ But she heard the suggestion of disbelief in his voice.
He studied her for a long moment and then took the plate of pastries from her and put it on the table. ‘We have more in common than I’d thought.’
She laughed. ‘No, we don’t.’
‘Sure we do.’ He leaned in and tugged her towards him. ‘Insatiable appetites, for a start.’
* * *
Rafe drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove her to the pasticceria. The sky was barely beginning to lighten, but he felt sunny, warm and satisfied. Three days had passed since she’d first agreed to stay with him. Still not anywhere near enough time. Last night he’d woken her twice and then—to his supreme satisfaction—she’d woken him. Half an hour before her alarm, she’d roused him with her soft, hot mouth and her strong, silky-smooth thighs and that intoxicating, addictive passion.
He knew exactly how his day would play out and he couldn’t be happier about it. He’d drop her at work, then return to the villa to get ahead of business so he could steal more time for himself later. In a few hours, when famished, he’d go back to the bakery, buy coffee and pastries and steal kisses.
While the café was closed for the early afternoon he’d walk with her while she checked on Alex. She always saved the old guy a pastry, even though they’d sold out to the paying customers. Alex waited in his chair in the shade, a carafe of his favourite lemonade on the table and two glasses. In the last couple of days there’d been three glasses waiting.
Rafael talked to him about the roses and the history of the villa, but he’d not asked Alex if he’d met his father when he’d stayed there all those years ago. Some things were better off untouched. But he enjoyed the banter between Alex and Gracie. She’d tell him stories of the tourists and who from the village had been into the café, while he asked questions and made acerbic comments. He saw the appreciation in the old guy’s eyes and he was almost not jealous.
After visiting Alex, he’d take her to the villa for a lazy swim and sex. She didn’t have to work the late shift tonight and he was looking forward to having the entire evening with her. But when he pulled up at the pasticceria, Gracie got out of the car and sent him a sparkling smile through the open window. ‘I can’t stay with you tonight. I’m having dinner with Alex, so I’ll sleep at home.’
At home? He blinked at her. Did she mean her apartment?
‘You have lunch with him every day.’ Stupidly strong disappointment forced his immediate argument. The suggestion sucked the sweet wind right out of his sails. She hadn’t even left and he’d already been looking forward to her returning. Frankly, he didn’t want her to leave at all and that fact bothered him too. In an instant he was bothered by everything—unreasonably irritated at the thought of not seeing her for an entire day.
‘Are you jealous?’ She smiled at him.
‘Yes.’ She was going to be smiling at Alex tonight. While the villa was going to be quiet and his bed cold.
‘You’ll get over it. It’ll pass.’ She smiled at him triumphantly and turned to walk away.
Rafe watched her go. She’d waited until she’d got out of the car before telling him. Why? Because she’d known he’d have tried to convince her otherwise and they both knew he would have succeeded. That soothed his irritation somewhat, but he wouldn’t go back to the bakery for coffee later. He couldn’t see her in public when it was going to be an entire day and night until he was alone with her again. But by evening he was bored out of his brain. He didn’t want to rattle around the villa alone without her.
He went for a drive, telling himself he’d go to the next village along from Bellezzo. Except Pasticceria Zullo had the best food and the best atmosphere. He couldn’t resist walking past just to see how busy it was. He approached it by the side alley. The rear entrance was open to let the heat of the kitchen out. He paused some distance away because he could see a woman working over a mountain of dough. Not just any woman. Her face was flushed as she kneaded. He could see the tiredness in her stance but worse was the droop of her mouth. He knew Gracie—he knew her smile. And right now he knew she was sad. But he was furious. She was working?
He watched from the alley a while longer. Why had she lied to him? He’d have understood if she’d needed to work. He’d happily have waited and given her a lift back home to his place. It seemed so unusual for her to lie, especially when she’d said she never wanted to do that any more. He walked to the front of the bar and came to another halt.
Alex was sitting at one of the tables outside, a younger man and woman sitting on either side of him, and there was no spare chair waiting for Gracie.
Rafe frowned and walked straight over. ‘I thought Gracie was having dinner with you tonight, Alex.’
Alex looked up. ‘Rafael—’
But Rafe was watching the others and caught the awkward look between what was clearly Alex’s son and his wife.
‘She decided to let us have time, just us family,’ the son interjected before Alex could say anything more.
Just us family.
And they didn’t consider Gracie family? When she had been the one looking after Alex when he’d been ill? When she’d been the one checking on him every single day? When she was the one who wanted nothing more than a family of her own?
The irritation that had been smouldering within him all day sparked to a full flame of anger.
‘She said she was tired,’ Alex said unhappily. ‘I asked her to stay.’
‘She doesn’t want to stay with you all the time, Father,’ Alex’s son said. ‘Most young women don’t want to hang around old men.’
It sounded like he was the one who didn’t want her around. Rafe glanced at the man, fury slicing through him. ‘Why? You think she’s targeting your father like some gold-digger hunting a sugar daddy?’ He grimaced at the shock that flashed on the man’s face. Damn it, not everyone had the history he did. He drew a breath and backtracked with truth. ‘Gracie cares for Alex. She does everything she can for him every day. Just as she does for anyone who asks her. She likes to help people.’
And thanks to their thoughtlessness, she was now alone. Again.
‘Rafe?’
He froze. Gracie was standing behind him, wearing a flour-sprinkled apron, and she was as pale as that flour, save for two red spots blooming high on her cheekbones.
‘What are you doing here?’ she whispered, glancing around at all the other people w
ho’d just heard what he’d said.
He didn’t care about the other customers, he cared about her.
And that realisation made him flounder. ‘You...’ He swallowed, then swiftly stepped forward. ‘You said you were having dinner with Alex.’
‘That was the original plan, but his family turned up for a surprise visit,’ she answered, her soft eyes full of emotion.
And she’d been dispatched. ‘So now you’re working again?’ he asked.
A chair scraped on the cobbles as Alex stood. ‘Gracie—’
‘Please, sit down, Alex, and enjoy your meal with your family.’ She leaned past Rafe to offer the old man a smile, her flush steadily growing. ‘It’s fine. Rafe just got confused about...things. I’ll take him away.’
Because he was misbehaving? He followed her into the pasticceria. She picked up a large slice of pizza and offered it to him, her eyes not quite meeting his. ‘Would you like some?’
Oh, no, she wasn’t going to take care of him now.
‘What about you? Have you eaten?’ he demanded.