Awakening His Innocent Cinderella

‘I must go.’ She shook her head. ‘There are many, so many...other things I have to do. I had this idea and I think it will work...’

He realised, belatedly, that she was breathlessly babbling her way out of his room. Nervous, embarrassed...emotional.

His lovers always said yes to him, always jumped when he asked them to. But not Gracie. She was getting away the only way she knew how, and even though five minutes ago he’d been ready to rush through any awkward goodbye and hustle her out of the house, he now found her awkwardness endearing. And at the realisation she was actually leaving, he felt oddly bereft.

‘Sorry.’ She rushed her words. ‘Really do have to run.’

But the parting smile she flashed at him wasn’t sorry, it was shy and grateful and he wanted to kiss her. Instead, all he did was blink at the empty doorway.

The silence echoed long after he’d heard the front door close behind her.

He wanted to hear her teasing laugh and turn it into a quivering sigh again. He wanted to see her sweet eyes smoulder with that new awareness. He growled in self-mockery and tossed the sheet from his lazy, lust-aching bones. One night was all he did.

He had the villa. He’d had an immensely satisfying night with a beautiful woman. He had his space.

Now he’d get back to work.

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘WE NEED TO make even more tomorrow, but I honestly don’t know how we can.’ Francesca locked the door and slumped back against it.

They’d sold out at the pasticceria before lunchtime, even though Gracie had made a third more pastries than usual.

‘I know,’ Gracie groaned. ‘I’m going to have to start even earlier.’

Despite her tiredness, having to bake round the clock had been the best thing about these last few days. She’d had no time to dwell on he whom she refused to remember. Rafe certainly hadn’t been into the bakery again, and now Alex was well enough to tend the roses, Gracie had stayed away from the villa.

‘It’ was definitely ‘over’, and that was just fine; she was choosing to think about something else. Anything else. Such as making pastries. Hundreds and hundreds of pastries. She’d been testing new products daily—to Francesca’s delight. So the sleeplessness was worth it.

‘I have news.’ Francesca walked towards the counter.

‘Good news?’ Gracie looked up from wiping down the cabinets. She needed as much distraction as possible.

‘Catering news.’ An awkward look crossed Francesca’s face. ‘A potential client wants to talk to you about an upcoming event.’

‘When does she want to meet us?’ Gracie paused and looked more intently at Francesca. Why was she looking guilty?

‘This afternoon. He’s requested you specifically. If we do well, it could open all kinds of doors given who’s likely to be on the guest list.’

A sense of foreboding slithered down Gracie’s spine. ‘Who’s he?’

‘Rafael Vitale. The new owner of the Villa Rosetta. He wants us to cater his upcoming house-warming.’

Grace’s heart thundered so loudly she put her hand to her chest to make sure her ribs could contain it. ‘He’s having a house-warming party?’

‘A big one.’ Francesca nodded. ‘He said it would be better to communicate his needs in English with you.’

His needs? Four days and he’d suddenly realised he had needs?

A shadow crossed Francesca’s face, dimming her excited glow. ‘Are you sure you want to go? I can go with you if—’

‘It’s fine. No problem.’ Gracie saw Francesca was torn about asking this of her. Rafael was in the wrong for putting her friend in this position—and he was going to hear about it. ‘You need to be here to get ready for tonight anyway.’

‘You’re sure? Fantastic. You’re to meet him at the villa at four o’clock. He said you already know the security code to get in.’ The interest in Francesca’s gaze was barely veiled now.

‘Yes, I know the code.’ Gracie straightened and shot her boss a smile and lied for the first time in years. ‘I’ll handle him, no problem at all.’

* * *

At precisely four o’clock Gracie pressed the security code and the gate swung open. Once more she walked up the stunning driveway. His too-flash, too-fast car was parked in the driveway. Rafael Vitale was standing by the shimmering pool. Tall, dark and wet. He’d been swimming. Which meant he was barely dressed. He was all muscles and hotness. Gracie shot him a sharp look, but it simply bounced off his brazenly smug smile. The guy had done it deliberately.

Her pulse still thundered annoyingly loud in her ears, hindering her chances of actually thinking. But she was going to try. ‘I hear you need more pastries for your insatiable models?’

‘That’s right.’ His smile widened.

‘For a house-warming party?’

He spread his hands. ‘I’ve been told this would make a lovely home, rather than a luxury holiday retreat, so I thought I’d see how it felt to live in it a little.’

‘And that’s your definition of living a little? Partying with pretty people?’

‘Doesn’t that match your definition?’ he asked, brushing his wet hair back from his forehead and certifying his fallen angel’s physique status. ‘Of course not, you want to bury yourself in a sleepy little village with a bunch of octogenarians.’

Oh—he was going there? She drew in a careful breath because he was attacking all her senses. ‘The village is hardly sleepy. It’s full of tourists and easy-come, easy-go possibilities,’ she muttered meaningfully. ‘Lots and lots of tourists.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘You think you’ve mastered that art now?’

She shrugged, but inside her pulse was thrumming unevenly. He had such an impact on her. Why couldn’t the man put on clothes? ‘Do you always turn up to business meetings in your swimsuit?’

‘It’s a hot day.’

But he’d known she was about to arrive and he’d dressed down deliberately. Whereas she’d dressed up. Wearing trousers had totally been the right call.

His smile was too bland given the sharpness of his eyes. ‘I’m a wealthy potential client, isn’t it your job to accommodate my eccentricities?’

She stared at him slack-jawed for a moment. ‘And isn’t it your job to behave like a decent human being and not use your...attributes to swing an advantage?’

‘My attributes?’ He echoed oh-so-innocently. ‘I was hot.’

Yeah, he was always hot. She glared at him.

Eyes glinting, he slowly reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist. ‘Better?’

No, it wasn’t any better. Somehow he looked even sexier. ‘You don’t play fair.’

At that satisfied expression on his face she mentally kicked herself. She needed to stop saying whatever was in her head when she was around him. Because it was always going to be inappropriate.

‘I play to win.’ He stepped closer. ‘There are going to be a lot of people at the party,’ he said temptingly. ‘Lots of potential catering customers. Wealthy ones. Lots of good publicity with all those selfie-addict models and their social media circuses. You know they always love to snap beautiful food.’

‘You’re trying to bribe me.’

‘You already knew I’m not a decent guy,’ he said huskily. ‘Why don’t you come inside the villa to discuss arrangements? I can show you the facilities.’

‘I believe I’ve already seen the facilities,’ she muttered, unable to resist playing on the double entendre sparking between them.

‘Only briefly. I’m pretty sure I can give you a better understanding of what’s available for you to use here.’

‘For me to use...’ She trailed off.

The wicked temptation in his eyes was too much. He knew exactly what effect he had on her. She could only hope she had even the smallest similar effect on him.

‘It’s too hot to stand outside,’ he murmured coolly. ‘You never know what madness might ensue if we stay out here too long.’

Well, that was certainly true. Awareness shot through her. It was what he wanted—she did indeed have the same effect on him. Her blood quickened but she wasn’t going to make it that easy for him. Not this time.

She marched ahead, into the villa, pulling out her phone to take down details. ‘How many guests are going to be at your housewarming?’ She could be professional.

‘Between fifty and seventy.’

‘Quite the party.’

‘Neighbours, work associates, friends...’

Lovers? She refused to ask. ‘People you would like to impress?’

‘People I’d like to feed,’ he replied in a bored tone, following her into the kitchen. ‘I take my responsibilities as a host very seriously. I’d like to meet the needs of all my guests.’ He paused, leaning forward and putting his hands on the back of one of the chairs. ‘I wouldn’t want to leave anyone feeling hungry.’

‘Hungry, huh?’ Gracie gave up on the polite sham and tossed her phone onto the table, facing that blaze in his eyes. ‘You used this as an excuse to get me here alone.’

‘Yes.’

‘Putting both me and my employer in a difficult position—you don’t feel any remorse about that?’

‘I like to get what I want.’ He regarded her steadily. ‘I generally do whatever it takes to get it.’

Playing dirty. Breaking the rules.

‘You didn’t think you could just ask for what you wanted?’

He stared at her for a second and then smiled reluctantly. ‘I didn’t want to risk you saying no again.’

She frowned.

‘You were so eager to leave the other day, you didn’t look back,’ he elaborated.

‘Wait. Do you think you asked me to stay?’ She thought back to the other morning when she’d escaped as quickly as she could. She’d thought that was what he’d wanted—no sticky, awkward goodbye. But her swift departure had bothered him? She couldn’t hold back a small smile. ‘You told me you didn’t want me to go. You never asked me to stay.’