The Playboy of Rome

She ran a hand over her hair, finding it to be a flyaway mess. What was she doing hiding away? She was a foster kid. She knew how to take care of herself. Running and hiding wasn’t her style. She straightened her shoulders. And with a resigned sigh, she moved to the door and opened it.

Dante stood there, slouched against the doorjamb. Much too close. Her heart thumped. Her gaze dipped to his lips. She recalled how his mouth did the most exquisite things to her and made her insides melt into a puddle. If she were to lean a little forward, they’d be nose to nose, lip to lip, breath to breath. But that couldn’t happen again. It played with her mind and her heart too much.

With effort she drew her gaze to his eyes, which seemed to be filled with amusement.

“See something you like?” A smile pulled at his lips and made him even sexier than the serious expression he normally wore like armor.

“I see a man who insists he has to talk to me. What do you want?”

He shook his head. “Not like this. Join me in the living room.”

“I have things to do.”

“I think this is more important. Trust me.” With that, he walked away.

She stood there fighting off the urge to rush to catch up with him. After all, he was the one who’d ruined a perfectly amazing dinner, nitpicking over her cooking. The reminder had her straightening her spine.

Refusing to continue to let him have the upper hand, she closed the door and rushed over to the walk-in closet to retrieve some fresh clothes that didn’t smell as if she’d been working in the kitchen for hours. She wished she had time for a shower, but she didn’t want to press her luck.

With a fresh pair of snug black jean capris and a black sheer blouse that she knotted at her belly button, she entered the en suite bathroom that was almost as big as her bedroom. She splashed some water on her heated face. Then she took a moment to run a brush through her hair. Not satisfied with it, she grabbed a ponytail holder and pulled her hair back out of her face. With a touch of powder and a little lip gloss to add a touch of color to her face, she decided that she wasn’t going to go out of her way for him.

Satisfied that she’d taken enough time that it didn’t seem as though she was rushing after him, she exited her room. She didn’t hear anything. Had he given up and disappeared to his office?

Disappointment coursed through her. The fact that she was so eager to hear what he had to say should have been warning enough, but curiosity kept her moving forward. When she entered the wide open living area, she was surprised to find Dante kicked back on the couch with his smartphone in his hand. He glanced up at her with an unidentifiable expression.

“What?” she asked, feeling self-conscious about her appearance.

He shook his head, dismissing her worry. “Nothing. It’s just that when I think I’ve figured you out, you go and surprise me.”

“And how did I do that?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. Otherwise you wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“It’s just that as tough as you act, on the inside you’re such a girl.” His gaze drifted over her change of clothes down to her strappy black sandals. “And a beautiful one at that.”

She crossed her arms and shrugged. “

I...I’m sorry for being sensitive. I’m not normally like that. I swear. It won’t happen again.”

But the one subject she didn’t dare delve into was that her appearance was an illusion. Unlike his other women friends, her clothes didn’t come from some Rome boutique. Her clothes were hand-me-downs. For a moment, she wondered what he’d say if he knew she was a fraud. Her insides tightened as she thought of him rejecting her.

“Apology accepted.” He patted a spot on the black leather couch next to him. “Now come sit down.”

It was then that she noticed the candles on the glass coffee table. And there were the dishes of berries and fresh whipped cream and a sprig of mint. Why in the world had he brought it up here?

When she sat down, it was in the overstuffed chair. “I don’t understand.”

He leaned forward. His elbows rested on his knees. Her instinct was to sit back out of his reach, but steely resistance kept her from moving. She wasn’t going to let him think that he had any power over her.

“Dante, what’s this all about? Are you trying to soften the blow? Are you calling off the television spot?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

LIZZIE’S HARD GAZE challenged him.

Dante wondered if she truly wanted him to step away from this project. Had she gotten a taste of his mentoring skills and changed her mind? Not that it mattered. It was too late for either of them to back out.