His hair swung free and touched his shoulders in a delicious mess of golden waves. He held a bouquet of freshly picked flowers and a bottle of red wine. “Hey.”
She stared.
He cocked his head and seemed to fight amusement.
“Umm, can I come in?”
She recovered her voice and lowered it to a hiss. “What are you doing here?”
one brow shot up. “I guess you didn’t realize I was invited to dinner.”
She blinked. “Huh?”
“real wordsmith out of the office, aren’t you? your mother invited me to dinner.”
Julietta jerked back. “Impossible.”
A voice from the hallway drifted to the open door.
“Julietta, stop torturing the man and let him in. He is correct.”
Sawyer grinned. “Told ya.”
He stepped around her and waltzed past. Her fingers clenched around the door in an effort to keep standing.
After a few deep breaths, she followed him in. “How beautiful,” Mama Conte crooned, inhaling the scent of roses and lilies. “Julietta, can you put these in the vase from the living room? Sawyer, can you open the bottle of Moscato? It’s in the refrigerator. I was just told Julietta closed a big deal, and we’re celebrating.”
Sawyer rocked on his heels, obviously amused at the whole scenario. “Big deal, huh? of course.”
“Mama, what’s going on? I didn’t know you and Sawyer were . . . close?”
Her mother’s head snapped around. “He is a friend of Max’s, and it is Sunday. of course, I would invite him to dine with us. My home is open to all, especially one known to my family. I am sure you agree with me, correct?”
Julietta licked her dry lips. ouch. Her mama’s anger was something to be reckoned with, and nothing pissed her off more than the idea of people not being welcome in her home. Mio Dio, why was this happening to her today? She only wanted some peace and quiet, and now the symbol of her distress would be breaking bread in her family home.
She forced the words out. “of course. Let me get the vase.”
She busied herself with the flowers as Sawyer uncorked the champagne and poured. Small talk fluttered back and forth between them, but her skin burned under the scorch-ing heat of his gaze. How did the man manage to shrink the room? He carried himself with a powerful dignity that stole all the air around her. Vulnerability shot through her. She wished suddenly for her business suit and high heels. Her current Sunday outfit consisted of jeans, a purple T-shirt under a zippered sweater, and black suede flats. Her hair was loose and a bit tangled from the breeze, and she rarely wore makeup when hanging with her mother. She pressed her lips together and swore not to let him make her feel uncomfortable. He was the outsider—not her.
“Both of you sit and relax. I have everything under control. Have some antipasto.” The tray of prosciutto, crackers, cheese, and pepperoni looked inviting. There was something intimate about eating in her mama’s kitchen. The heavy pine table was large, but the space evoked a cozy at-mosphere. The huge arched window over the sink allowed light to pour through and showed off the view of the rolling golden hills. The rich colors of burnt orange, scarlet, and gold shimmered in welcome from the pine floors to the colorful pasta bowls and trays hand painted in bright tones.
Hand-stitched linens and mats made a presentation for every plate served. The scents of gravy, steamed garlic, and lemon hung heavily in the air and wrapped them in warmth.
Julietta knew her mother wouldn’t let her help when there were guests here, so she filled her plate to bursting, sipped her champagne, and tossed her business partner a glare.
He didn’t seem intimidated. More like fascinated by her outfit, greedy appetite, and surliness.
“I’m so honored you invited me to dinner, Mama Conte.
I assume Julietta shared the good news about our deal?”
“No, we didn’t get to the details yet. My goodness, you mean you’re both working together?”
Sawyer grinned. “yes. I’m building a new chain of hotels called Purity, and La Dolce Famiglia will be my exclusive supplier. of course, Max will take care of the U.S. hotels but the big launch is Milan. Julietta will be key to helping make this a success.”
She tried hard not to make a face at him, which was extremely juvenile and beneath her. How dare he steal her thunder? As if he bestowed his contract as a gift without her having a say in the matter. Screw him. She jumped in.
“of course, negotiation was involved before I’d sign the contracts. Some of the clauses were unacceptable.”
“of course.” His ready agreement only pissed her off more. Why did he continuously annoy her?
“She makes this family proud. And you’ve done well for yourself, Sawyer. Tell me about this hotel chain.”
As he talked about Purity, she caught the glow of pleasure on his face. odd, she understood him in some basic ways. The need to succeed and prove oneself. The fierce satisfaction of building something of your own in a world where nothing was permanent. She rarely analyzed where the drive came from. She was too afraid to know the truth.
It had been a full week since the kiss. As if he had sensed she needed to retreat, he had allowed her the distance and stuck to a few phone calls and a short visit that focused entirely on business.
But the damage had been done.
She thought about the kiss all the time. The texture of his lips, the scent of his skin, and the promise of his mouth, open and hungry on hers. She had tossed and turned at night and had cursed him. How could such an innocent peck affect her so deeply? If she didn’t know her body, she would’ve thrown away her reserve and her principles and dragged him into bed.
Unfortunately, she knew what would happen. The burst of flame and lust. The promise of satisfaction. And eventually, the withering of heat as her body pruned up and chilled under a man’s hand. Sawyer would be no different, and she didn’t intend to have him figure out her secret.
She just needed to get over it.
Julietta focused on conversation. “How did you meet Sawyer, Mama?” She made sure her direct question completely cut out his answer. He stiffened. A whirling array of emotions flickered in those tiger eyes, but they cleared so fast she wondered if it was her imagination.
A short silence fell over the kitchen. She knew then there was a story here—and waited for her mother to tell it.
Finally, she’d get a piece of the missing puzzle that made up this mysterious man and maybe gain some leverage.
“I was having a drink with Max’s mother at the Prospect Hotel. Sawyer was at the bar with his boss. My goodness, it was so long ago I barely remember, but I think there were harsh words exchanged. His boss was being quite abusive.
How old were you? Twenty-two?”
“yes.”
His tone was flat, and his face held no expression.
“Anyway, his boss left, and I couldn’t get the bartender’s attention. Sawyer bought me a drink, and we began chat-ting. He reminded me so much of Max: young, ambitious, ready to conquer the world.”
Julietta waited. Silence fell. “That’s it?”
Mama Conte glanced at her with surprise. “yes. Why, how did you think we met?”
Her gaze locked with Sawyer’s. Heat crawled up her body, scratched under her skin, and dampened between her legs. This weird sexual power he commanded was too much for her, but damned if she’d let him win this staring match.
“Sawyer was quite mysterious about your meeting. I just thought there was more to the story.”
“Not that I recall. Did anything else happen, Sawyer?”
He paused only a moment. Her gut screamed something big had occurred in that bar with her mother, but she was letting him hold the reins. Finally, he gave a tight-lipped smile. “No. That was it.”
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. Damn, she needed some ammunition. No matter how hard she dug, his past was a blank canvas before he stormed into the business world. She hated the idea that he knew more about her.
What was worse?
He realized it.
Mama kept talking. “It’s amazing how life works. you met Maximus on a business venture, and now you will be a permanent part of our bakery with Julietta. Almost as if you were meant to be with our family.”
Alarm bells rang in her head. Hell, no. She refused to share her quiet Sunday dinners with a man who only wanted to press her sex buttons. Their relationship had to stay firmly in the office, where it belonged. She cleared her throat. “Umm, Sawyer probably likes to keep his work life clearly separated. We need to respect that.”
Mama Conte snorted and cut her hand in the air.
“Nonsense. As I tell you all the time, you need more outlets besides work. Dinner with friends and family are necessary in this lifetime. Money and success are not everything.
Happiness is.”
Julietta crammed another cracker stacked high with pepperoni in her mouth to keep herself from screaming.
Sawyer steepled his fingers and watched. Humor danced in his eyes. “I agree,” he said slowly. “In fact, I told Julietta I’d love to spend more time with her on a personal basis. I don’t know too many people in Milan.”
She swallowed the dry crumbs and barely fought off a choking fit.
“A wonderful idea. From now on, you will join us for dinner on Sundays. I’m sure Julietta will make time from her busy schedule to introduce you to some of her friends.”
“Thank you.”
Her eyes widened. Mama placed heaping bowls of man-icotti and fresh salad in front of them and beamed. “Isn’t this wonderful? Now both of you. Manga.”
Sawyer winked and picked up his fork.
“Why are you bothering me?”
They sat on the back terrace with cups of cappuccino and a plate of freshly baked honey almond biscotti. open and airy, with a view of the lagoon-type pool and lush gardens, the wrought-iron furniture added to the old-world appeal of Mama Conte’s villa. Terra-cotta pots lined the colorful cobblestones and burst with various herbs and fruit plants, just waiting to sprout at the first sign of spring. The last sting of winter hung fiercely on, but the bite in the air cleared Sawyer’s lungs and sharpened his instincts. The mountains shimmered in the distance, and the sound of bubbling water from the sculptured marble angel soothed his ears. He propped up his legs on the opposite chair and dipped the cookie into his coffee. “I’m not. your mother likes me.”
She rolled her eyes. “My mother likes everyone. She’d invite a serial killer to supper.”
“Nice.”
“What really happened between you and Mama? It feels like there’s something else you both aren’t telling me.”
oh, there was. Not that he’d confess such a big piece of his past. Mama Conte had saved his life and put him on a new path that changed everything. The memory of their most recent encounter flickered before him.
She’d come to see him when he scored his first big coup with La Principe Hotel. Proud of what he had accomplished with her help, drunk on the victory of leading a life he only dreamed about, he’d treated her to lunch, and then he’d taken her in his arms for a gentle hug. He spoke in Italian to her and made a vow—a sacred promise from his very gut and soul—and whispered in her ear.
