The Playboy of Rome

She kept walking. She didn’t even know how much time had passed when she stopped and looked around. The setting sun’s rays gave the grape leaves a magical glow. Any other time she’d have been caught up in the romantic setting, but right now romance was the last thing on her mind.

She should turn back, but she wasn’t ready to face anyone. Oh, who was she kidding—she wasn’t willing to look into Dante’s eyes and to find that once again in her life, she didn’t quite measure up.

When others looked at her as though she were less than everyone else, she could choke it down and keep going. After all, those people hadn’t meant anything to her. It’d hurt—it’d hurt deeply, but it hadn’t destroyed her. And she’d clung to the belief that whatever didn’t destroy you made you stronger.

But Dante was a different story. A sob caught in her throat. She couldn’t stand the thought of him thinking that she was inept at cooking—the one ability that she’d always excelled in—her one hope to gain his respect.

And now she’d failed. Miserably.

* * *

“Are you serious?”

Dante sent Stefano a hard stare. The main dish Lizzie had prepared was his mother’s trademark dish. She only prepared it on the most special occasions.

“Of course I’m serious. Did you see how all of the color drained from Papa’s face? It was like he’d seen a ghost or something.”

Dante raked his fingers through his hair. “I guess I was too busy watching the horrified look on Lizzie’s face. She worked all day on that meal. She wouldn’t say it but I know that she was so anxious to please everyone—”

“You mean anxious to please you, little brother.”

“Me? Why would she do that?” He wasn’t about to let on to his older brother that anything had gone on between him and Lizzie. No way! He’d never hear the end of it. “We’re working together. That’s all.”

Stefano elbowed him. “Whatever you say.”

Dante leaned forward on the porch rail and stared off into the distance, but there was no sign of Lizzie.

“I just have one question.”

Dante stifled a groan. “You always have a question and most of the time it’s none of your business.”

“Ah, but see, this does have to do with me. Because while you’re standing there insisting that you don’t care about Lizzie, she’s gotten who knows how far away. So is it going to be me or you that goes after her?”

Dante hated when his brother was right. She had been gone a long time. Soon it’d be dark out. He’d attempted to follow her right after the incident, but Massimo had insisted she needed some time alone. But the thing was she didn’t understand what had happened to her special dinner and he needed to explain that it had nothing to do with her. Still, he figured that after her walk she’d be more apt to listen to him.

“Dante, did you hear me?”

He turned and glared at Stefano. “How could I help but hear you when you’re talking in my ear?”

“You’re ignoring the question. Are you going? Or should I?”

“I’m going.”

“You might want to take your car. Hard to tell how far she’s gotten by now.”

“Thanks so much for your expert advice.”

Stefano sent him a knowing smile. “You always did need a little guidance.”

They’d probably have ended up in a sparring match like they used to do as kids, but Dante had more important matters than showing his big brother that he was all grown up now. Dante jumped in Red and fired up the engine. He headed down the lane to the main road, not sure he was even headed in the right direction. No one had watched Lizzie leave, but he couldn’t imagine that she’d go hiking through the fields in a dress and sandals.

He slowly eased the car along the lane, doing his best to search the fields while trying to keep the car from drifting off the road. Thankfully it was a private lane as he was doing a good deal of weaving back and forth.

Where was she?

As he reached the main road, his worries multiplied. Had he missed her? Had she wandered into the fields and somehow gotten lost? He pulled to a stop at the intersection and pounded his palm against the steering wheel. Why had he listened to his grandfather? He should have gone after her immediately.

A car passed by and his gut churned. Was it possible she was so upset that she hitched a ride from a passing motorist? A stranger?