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Authors: Tamelia Tumlin

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BOOK: Catering to the Italian Playboy
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Get it together, girl. He’s a player. And he’s playing you like harp strings.

“Can we go in now?” Alex set his little chin and glared at them. “I wanna see the polar bears.”

Sophie shoved the warm, tingly feelings aside and looked down at her son. “This is Max. He’s one of mommy’s … friends.” Again she used that term loosely. “He’d like to go with us to see the animals.”

Max shifted his gaze to Alex as well. “So what do you say, little man? Will it be alright if I tag along?”

Alex looked from Sophie to Max then grinned. “‘S’ok, I guess.”

“Good. I’d like that, Alex.” Max knelt down in front of him and looked his son in the eye. “You want to see the polar bears, huh?”

Alex nodded solemnly.

“What about lions and tigers?”

“I want to see them too, but polar bears are my favorite.”

Max’s face broke into a wide grin. “Mine too. Let’s go see how many we can find.” He rose and held out his hand. Alex placed his small one in Max’s larger one. Sophie noticed how Max’s Adam’s apple quivered slightly before he turned to her. “How about it, Mom, you ready to see some polar bears?” He offered her his other hand.

Sophie blinked. Surely, he didn’t expect her to hold his hand. Her gaze caught Max’s. The teasing light in his eyes threw out the gauntlet.

Sophie squared her shoulders. If he thought she’d balk, then he had another think coming. She never backed down from a challenge.

“Sure.” Sophie lifted her chin a notch and laced her hand with his. His fingers threaded hers and goose bumps raced up her arm.

Sophie didn’t care for the satisfied gleam in his eyes either as he said, “Good.” Then he leaned down to whisper for her ears only. “I was late because there was an accident in front of the hotel. Not for any of those sinful reasons your naughty little mind cooked up.” At her small gasp he chuckled. “Relax. You’re as transparent as Cellophane. I can just imagine what you
thought
I was doing.” He gave her hand a squeeze then his voice took on a deadly note. “But before you convict me the next time, sugar, you should know I always keep my promises.”

Sophie felt her face heat all the way to the roots of her hair. Maybe she
had
been wrong about him this time, but what about the next time? Would Max still be up for the challenge of fatherhood two days from now? Two weeks? Two years?

She didn’t think so. Not if he was anything like her father. For today, at least, she’d give him a chance.

* * *

 

Max held on to Sophie and Alex’s hands as they strolled through the lush garden park and stopped to visit the Tropic Zone, an indoor rainforest. Once inside a variety of vibrant-colored birds nesting in the branches chirped their greetings while the soothing sound of rain gave the man-made environment an authentic rainforest appeal.

With a start, Max realized he was enjoying himself more than he’d expected. Actually, he hadn’t known what to expect. Or how Alex would react to him. But the little guy had been a trooper.

His son – he still marveled at that word – had placed his small hand in his without the least bit of hesitation, trusting only as a child could, and in that moment Max knew he would move heaven and earth to make sure his son never felt unloved or abandoned like he had.

“What’s that?” Alex pointed to a furry gray animal scurrying up a tree in one of the exhibits. “Is it a monkey?”

“No. It’s a two-toed sloth.” Max squinted at the zoo fact card at the bottom of the large enclosure that was bathed in a soothing red light. “It’s one of the rainforest’s nocturnal creatures. They spend most of their time upside down hanging on by the claws in their two front toes.”

“What’s nocturnal?” Alex scrunched his forehead and tilted his head to look at Max.

“It means it’s a night animal.” Sophie smiled and ruffled his hair. “This one likes fruit and nuts.”

“Oh.” Alex stuck his head between two wide-spaced horizontal metal bars to get a better view. “I can’t see it any more. Where’d it go?”

“He’s up there.” Sophie pointed to the canopy in the trees.

“But I can’t see it.” Alex’s chin wobbled. “I wanna see it too.”

“Here, son, let me help you.” Max reluctantly dropped Sophie’s hand from his then lifted Alex up over the bars and held him tight so he wouldn’t bounce out of his arms.

Son.
This amazing little guy was his son! Pride swelled in Max’s chest.

“There it is!” Alex squealed with delight wiggling to get a closer look. “I see it! I see it!”

Max’s face broke into a wide grin and his arms tightened around the young child. “I see it too.”

The bubble of pride expanded in Max’s chest. So far so good. No major mishaps on the zoo trip and the child seemed happy enough to have him tag along. Then Max’s smile faltered as self-doubt crept in. What if he did something to lose Alex’s trust? What if he couldn’t be the father Alex really needed?

Sophie must have read his mind because she leaned over and whispered, “You’re doing fine. Don’t worry so much.”

Max caught her eye and she shot him an encouraging smile, but not before he saw a glimpse of doubt mirrored in her wide green eyes. His breath caught. What if she was right? What if couldn’t do this?

“Okay fellows. We’d better get a move on. The zoo will be closing soon and we still have a couple of exhibits left to see.” Sophie weaved her way through the crowd of onlookers and headed toward the door.

“You heard her, little man. Time to hustle.” Max carried Alex as he followed Sophie outside.

“But I wasn’t through. I want to see the sloth again.” Alex jutted out his chin when they stepped outside and wiggled until Max set him down on the concrete path.

“Maybe next time.” Max took his hand again and fell into step beside Sophie as they followed the signs leading to the big cats.

Doubt burrowed deeper in his mind. Would there even be a next time?

Dusk settled over the park as they finished the last exhibit and headed toward the exit through Central Gardens. Something rustled in the bushes on Max’s left. He narrowed his eyes and squinted toward the tall shrubs. A light flashed. Then another and another.

Damn!

“Move it.” Max cupped Sophie’s elbow and guided her around the corner of another group of hedges.

“What’s wrong?” Sophie asked with alarm.

“Henchmen. In the bushes. Keep your head down and keep up with me.” He pulled her and Alex behind a large concrete Eagle statue out of the paparazzi’s view.

“I wanna see the seals.” Alex tugged on Max’s hand and tried to step from behind the statue.

“Just a minute, son.” Max eased his head out from behind the concrete and peaked around the corner. The bushes moved again.

He scoured the area. Nothing else looked suspicious. Maybe the henchman in the hedges was the only one. If so it wouldn’t hurt for Alex to stay on the other side of the statue and look at the seals. Max gave the area another once over just to be sure. Good. All clear.

“Stay right over there where we can see you.” Max pointed toward the large concrete area only a few feet away in the middle of the park where the seals barked loudly.

“‘K.” Alex skipped over to the exhibit.

Sophie made a move to follow him.

“Wait.” Max drew her back against him, her soft body pressed against his and whiffs of lavender and vanilla wrapped around him. His pulse picked up speed. Why did that scent always play havoc with his senses? “I want to be sure no one else is around.”

“But Alex–?”

“We can see him just fine from here and I can get to him in two seconds flat if necessary. He’ll be okay. Just wait here for a few minutes. Give the camera guy time to get lost. I don’t think he saw us slip behind here.”

Hesitation warred in her eyes before she finally nodded and leaned back against him. He could feel the warmth from her back against his chest. Soft feminine curves pressed against his chest and caused his pulse to gallop. Damn, she felt good in his arms. Then she shifted and turned toward him. “Did he photograph us?”

“Probably, but if we’re lucky he didn’t get a good shot.”

“And Alex?”

Max’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

“Oh God! We’re going to be splashed across all the tabloids, aren’t we?” Her voice sagged. “They’ll make up all sorts of sordid stories to go along with them too. Horrible lies.” She shuddered in his arms.

“It’s a possibility.” Max chose his words carefully so as not to alarm her further. If the truth be known, the press would probably have a field day with this, unless he could find a way to control the damage. “I’m used to it. It’ll blow over in a few days and no one will remember.”

“Well, I’m not used to it!” Sophie retorted hotly. “I don’t want my life or my son’s life exploited for a few measly bucks.”

“Our son,” Max reminded her evenly. “And nobody wants their personal life exposed for the world to see. Not even me.”

Tears sprang to Sophie’s eyes. “How do you live like this? Always having to be on guard for the next flash of a camera? I couldn’t stand it. It’s like living under a microscope.”

Max expelled a breath. “You learn to ignore it for the most part. Ninety-five percent of what they report is pure fiction and anyone with a half a brain can see that.”

Sophie’s gaze shifted to where Alex was clapping at the seals’ latest antics. “I don’t want him to grow up like this. I want him to be happy and carefree, not stalked by the press every second of his life. That’s no way for a child to grow up.”

Guilt slammed into Max. He hadn’t thought about it that way. Making himself a part of his son’s life would make the child vulnerable to the press and an easy target. Was that really fair to Alex?

Or was he just being selfish?

Sophie blinked back a tear. “Why exactly is the press so fascinated with you?”

Max winced inwardly. He wasn’t an arrogant man – at least not much – but Sophie had a way putting him in his place without even trying. Lucky for him he was thick-skinned, otherwise the feisty redhead just might trample all over his ego. “I suppose it’s because I dug myself out of the trenches of poverty and built my hotel empire on my own. The old rags-to-riches story seems to spark an interest among the media.” He flashed a smile. “I guess money talks.”

“Well, I wish it would speak a little softer,” Sophie snapped, then instantly became contrite. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault the press hounds you like white on rice. And I’m sure this can’t be pleasant for you either. I just didn’t want Alex exposed to … to all of this.”

Max flattened his chin. “I’m afraid it’s a package deal. Wealth and success come with a steep price.”

“I know,” Sophie let out a resigned sigh. “I just want to keep Alex out of the limelight as much as possible.”

“I would never do anything to deliberately jeopardize his well-being.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” Sophie knitted her brow and placed her hand on the concrete tail feathers. “I was just thinking if you weren’t so eligible then maybe the buzzards wouldn’t be swarming all the time.”

Max’s blood chilled. “What do you mean?”

“We’ll, it’s simple really. If you were married then I’m sure the media wouldn’t be nearly as fascinated with your day-to-day activities and fawning over your every move.” Sophie nodded thoughtfully.

Max stiffened.
Not in this lifetime, sugar
. “I’m flattered, but that’s not an option. I don’t do marriage.” He jutted out his chin.

Sophie reddened. “Oh! I didn’t mean I wanted to … I mean I was just saying if…” Her voice cracked and a spark of indignation flared in her green eyes. “Great Pete! I wasn’t making an offer! I just meant if you weren’t one of the most eligible bachelors on the planet, the press wouldn’t be so infatuated with you, and our son wouldn’t have to be exploited for the next big buck.” Max flinched. Did she have to sound so accusing? He felt like a heel as it was and it wasn’t like he wanted a damn henchman on his tail every time he turned around either, but that’s how things worked in his circles. He’d learned to deal with it. He did understand her anxiety, but he sure as hell wasn’t getting married to get the press off his back. “I’m afraid they’ll have to stay infatuated. I don’t believe in marriage and I have no intention of tying the knot. Ever.”

Max’s chest tightened. He wasn’t any good at long-term relationships, and marriage was about as long-term as you could get. Damn. He’d be lucky if he fumbled his way through this fatherhood thing without sending the child into therapy for life. No way was he going to try to tackle marriage too. He had to draw the line somewhere.

 

 

** SIX **

 

Sophie chopped the carrots with venom. How dare he suggest she had proposed marriage? To him of all people!

Playboy Putz of the Millennium.

As if.

Did he really think she wanted to marry a man who’d had more women in his lifetime than Alex had had diapers?

Hmmph! Not on your life, buster. Sophie chopped harder. The sound of metal hitting the cutting board rivaled the beat of a dysfunctional rock band.

“Who’s winning?”

Sophie stopped chopping, knife in hand, and looked up blankly. “What?”

“The war you’ve waged with that salad.” Felicity nodded toward the sliced and diced vegetables piled in front of Sophie. “You seem to be on a seek-and-destroy mission. I just wanted to know who was winning?”

“Not me apparently,” Sophie muttered, raking the vegetables into the large salad bowl. 

“Does your sudden enlistment in the vegetable army have something to do with a certain tall, dark and scrumptious Italian whose party we’re catering tonight?” Felicity arched a knowing brow as she sprinkled cheese on top of the green bean casserole.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, it could have something to do with the new meaning you’ve put on finely chopped vegetables,” Felicity said dryly. “It’s a salad, Soph. Not puree.”

“I’m sure there will be a bunch of old codgers with false teeth at the party tonight. I want to make sure they can chew the salad. They need their fiber you know.” Her defense didn’t hold much water, but Sophie raised her chin a notch anyway then ripped off a piece of saran wrap and covered the salad bowl. She crossed the room and placed it in the fridge.

BOOK: Catering to the Italian Playboy
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