The Playboy of Rome

Just as he said that, there was a buzz from the intercom. He went to answer it. In seconds, he returned to her. “Well, you don’t have to worry. Your luggage has arrived.”

She smiled. “That’s great.”

A moment of disappointment coursed through him. What in the world was the matter with him? Why should he care one way or the other if she slept in one of his shirts or not? Obviously he was more tired than he’d thought.

CHAPTER FIVE

LIZZIE GRINNED AND STRETCHED, like a cat that had spent the afternoon napping in the sunshine. She glanced around the unfamiliar surroundings, noticing the sun’s rays creeping past the white sheers over the window. She rubbed her eyes and then fumbled for her cell phone. She was shocked to find that she’d slept away half of the morning. It was going to take her a bit to get her internal alarm clock reset.

Last night, she’d been so tired that she’d barely gotten off a text message to Jules to assure her that she’d arrived safely before sleep claimed her. This was the first time in their lives that they’d been separated for an extended period and Lizzie already missed her foster sister, who was also her best friend. She had promised to call today to fill her in on her trip. But after converting the time, Lizzie realized it was too early in New York to call.

She glanced around, not surprised to find the room done up in black and white. The man may be drop-dead gorgeous but when it came to decorating, he definitely lacked imaginative skills. What this place needed was some warmth—a woman’s touch.

She thought back to his comment about her being his first guest here. She found that surprising. For some reason, she imagined someone as sexy and charming as him having a woman on each arm. Perhaps there was more to this man than his smooth talk and devastating smile. What was the real Dante like? Laid-back and flirtatious? Serious and a workaholic?

She paused and listened for any sounds from him. But then again, with an apartment this big, she doubted she’d hear him in the kitchen. She’d be willing to bet that her entire New York apartment could fit in this bedroom. She’d never been in such a spacious home before. Not that she’d have time to get used to it. She was pretty certain that Dante was only mollifying her. Today he would have a plan to get her out of his life and his restaurant.

With that thought in mind, Lizzie sprang out of bed and rushed into the glass block shower enclosure with more water jets than she’d ever imagined were possible. But instead of enjoying the shower, she wondered what Dante’s next move would be concerning the agreement.

Almost thirty minutes later, her straight blond hair was smoothed back into the normal ponytail that she wore due to its ease at pinning it up in the kitchen. She slipped on a dark pair of designer jeans. Lizzie didn’t recognize the name, but the lady at the secondhand store had assured her that they were the in thing right now.

Lizzie pulled on a white tiny tee with sparkly silver bling on the front in the shape of a smiley face. It was fun, and today she figured she just might need something uplifting. There were decisions to be made.

After she stepped into a pair of black cotton shoes, she soundlessly made her way to the living room, finding it deserted. Where could Dante be? She recalled their conversation last night and she was certain that he’d said the restaurant was closed today.

“Dante?” Nothing. “Dante?” she called out, louder this time.

Suddenly he was standing in the hallway that led to the master suite. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Have you been up long?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid that my body is still on New York time.”

“I’ve spoken to my grandfather.”

Lizzie’s chest tightened. “What did he say?”

Dante paused, making her anxiety even worse. She wanted to yell at him to spit it out. Did Massimo say something that was going to change how this whole scenario played out?

“He didn’t say much. I’m getting ready to go see him.”

She waited, hoping Dante would extend an invitation. When he didn’t, she added, “How far did you say the vineyard is from here?”

He shrugged. “An hour or so out of the city.”

She glanced toward the elongated window. “It’s a beautiful day for a drive.”

He said nothing.

Why wasn’t he taking the hint? If she laid it on any thicker, she’d have to invite herself along. She resisted the urge to stamp her feet in frustration. Why wouldn’t he give in and offer her a ride? She’d already mentioned how much she enjoyed talking to his grandfather on the phone.

Maybe Dante just wasn’t good with hints, no matter how bold they were. Perhaps she should try another approach—a direct one.

“I’d like to meet your grandfather.”

Dante shook his head. “That isn’t g

oing to happen.”

Oh, no. She wasn’t giving up that easily. “Why not? When we talked on the phone, he was very excited about my arrival.”