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Authors: Tamelia Tumlin

Tags: #Romance

Catering to the Italian Playboy (8 page)

BOOK: Catering to the Italian Playboy
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“Ri-ight!” Felicity snickered as she slid a casserole into the oversized oven. “So what really gives? You’ve had a bee in your bonnet all week. What did McSexy do this time?”

Sophie expelled a sigh. “Nothing really. Actually, he’s been pretty great. He’s come by to see Alex three times this week.”

“Does Alex know Max is his father yet?” Felicity pulled off her oven mitt and plopped onto a stool at the counter. 

“No. We’re giving him some time to get used to Max first.”

“So what’s the problem?”

What was the problem indeed? Sophie didn’t know exactly. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was outraged because he thought she had been proposing or if it had more to do with the fact he’d turned her non-existent proposal down flat.

“I don’t suppose there is one.” Sophie bit her lip.

“Tell that to the carrot’s family.” Felicity nodded toward the limp remains of carrot skins and pureed bell peppers on the counter in front of Sophie.

Sophie’s lips twitched. “I suppose I was a little rough with the vegetables.”

“I’ll say.” Felicity returned her grin. “Looks to me like you’ve got it bad, girlfriend.”

“Got what bad?”

“Whatever it is you’ve got for McSexy.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “I don’t have anything for Mc– for Max. He’s Alex’s father, that’s all.”

“If you say so.” Felicity’s brown eyes softened. “But the longer you deny it the harder it’s going to be. You may as well just admit it. You’ve got the hots for the hunky Italian stud and it may even be worse than that. I think you’re falling for him.”

Falling for him?

Max?

The idea was preposterous. He was just Alex’s biological father. That’s all. She wasn’t actually falling for him.

Was she?

Felicity slid off the stool. “What is it you’re always saying? Time to deal with it?”

“Roll with it,” Sophie murmured. Oh, God! She couldn’t be falling for Max. He was just like her father. He had disappointment and heartbreak written all over him. Sophie shuddered. He’d ruin her life like her father had ruined her mother’s. He was a playboy for Pete’s sake. She couldn’t be falling for him. She just couldn’t. Sophie clenched her fist so hard her short French-tipped nails dug into her palm.

Besides he’d made it perfectly clear he didn’t
do
long-term relationships and marriage was not in his vocabulary. Felicity was wrong. She wasn’t falling for Max.

She would have to be three degrees past stupid to do such a thing.

“That’s the saying.” Felicity snapped her fingers. “We’ll Soph, I hate to be the one to tell you, but it’s time for you to roll with it.” Felicity’s grin widened. “And I’d start by getting horizontal with McSexy PDQ.”

* * *

 

The Venetian room was exactly as Sophie had imagined. Elegant and sophisticated with a touch of Italian flair. Large cut-crystal chandeliers hanging from the vaulted ceiling softly lit the charming spacious room. Intimate alcoves invited cozy romantic interludes while the dining area offered large gathering appeal. Old World accents adorned exquisite bone-ivory walls and blended brilliantly with the muted wine and gold tones. Situated along the back wall was a small-scale octagonal water fountain with a bronze statue of Neptune standing proudly on a pedestal in the center of the small reflecting pool.

Sophie ran her hand along the hard sleek marble fountain. The sound of trickling water echoed through the room, and this time the sound settled over her like a soothing blanket.

Kind of gives new meaning to spare no expense. S
he wondered how much this little gem set Max back.

Like her father, Max didn’t seem to mind flaunting his wealth. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. Her father had always used money to impress. Usually to impress a woman.

“I see you found the right room this time.” Her skin prickled at the velvet, thickly accented voice behind her.

Sophie turned to find Max in the doorway watching her with amusement.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she murmured. “It’s beautiful.” So was he in his obviously custom-made Italian suit, white dress shirt and black tie. Sophie swallowed hard and hoped she wasn’t gaping.

“I’m glad you like it. I had the room designed after my favorite restaurant in Venice and the Fontana di Nettuno in Bologna. Two of my favorite places in the world. In the Old Country the food is superb, the atmosphere is unbelievable and the hospitality is like none you’ve ever seen before.” Two winged brows arched questioningly. “Have you ever been to Italy?”

Sophie shook her head as he crossed the room to join her in front of the fountain. “Sadly, I must admit I’ve never been out of the United States. New York is as close to my big adventure as I could get.” She didn’t bother to add she came here six years ago from Los Angeles hoping to blend in with the million plus people inhabiting the Big Apple so her father would never find her. She’d even managed – with the help of a friend who’d used his FBI credentials – to change her social security number so she wouldn’t be traced.

“Pity. European countries are most hospitable and rich in fascinating history. Take for example Neptune.” He reached over her shoulder and pointed to bronze statue holding a trident. “He is master of the sea controlling all elements of water. Neptune has power over all other water gods. He guides ships, causes waves and can even create an earthquake.”

“Sounds like a powerful man – or god rather. I just hope he doesn’t want to create any earthquakes anytime soon.” Good Lord, did he have to stand so close. His warm breath fanned her temple and a quiver tickled her stomach.

“He’s powerful now, but his childhood was very traumatic.” A shadow passed across Max’s face and his chin tightened. “In Greek mythology Neptune’s father, Cronus, feared he would be overthrown by one of his children so he imprisoned all of his offspring in Tartarus, the Olympian underworld. Only Zeus and Neptune escaped their fate when their mother, Rhea, secretly hid them in other parts of the world. Particularly what is now Greece. They were raised by other Greek gods and later freed their imprisoned siblings. Then, after a decade long war, they defeated Cronus and the other Titans.”

“That’s amazing! You sure know your mythology,” Sophie enthused. She’d never cared much for history herself, but listening to Max talk about Greek lore with such fervor and excitement, she almost wished she’d paid more attention to her teachers in school. She’d been more interested in sports. Especially softball.

Max shrugged. “I’ve always enjoyed history and I took several mythology courses in college as electives. I find it fascinating.”

Sophie looked at the statue and shook her head. “Makes me feel kinda sorry for Neptune, though. I can’t imagine how any parent could give their child away like that.” Sophie swallowed the lump in her throat. Her own father might not have been there for her growing up, but he’d never thrown her away like an old shoe either.

“It happens.” Max inhaled sharply. His brows furrowed as a rush of emotions fluttered across his hard features. Then his eyes shuttered. “More often than you think.”

“At least it ended well for Neptune. He was reunited with his siblings and overcame his traumatic childhood.”

Max stiffened beside her. “Yes. He’s one of the lucky ones.”

Sophie frowned. Why did he sound so defensive? It was just a myth, for Pete’s sake.

Noting her puzzled expression, Max relaxed then offered her a half-smile. “Like I said. I’m a history buff and most European countries have tons of history. Italy has these types of fountains all over and each one has an interesting story behind it. You should go sometime. I think you would enjoy it.”

“Maybe I’ll try to visit one day,” Sophie said thoughtfully, then shot him a cheeky grin. “When I get back to catering for actual money that is and can save up.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure after tonight that won’t be a problem. There will be plenty of important clients here and most all of them host parties at one time or another. They’ll be beating your door down for your business.”

“I hope so.” Sophie’s expression turned serious. “I have to make A Touch of Spice a success. I can’t fail. Not with this.”

“You really enjoy what you do, don’t you?” Max studied her with hooded eyes. “That’s important in the success of any business.”

“I love cooking and catering, of course, but it’s more than that.” Sophie bit back a wave of sadness. “Catering was my mom’s dream. It’s the one thing she always wanted to do but never had the guts to try. I want to do this for her.”

“Why didn’t she?”

Sophie sucked in a razored breath. “My father wouldn’t let her. He thought she was better suited hosting his many shindigs instead of having a life of her own.” Her voice hardened. “He owns Westbrook Advertising so the entertainment industry is a big part of his life. He runs in the same circles as the Hollywood elite.”

“You don’t sound pleased.”

Sophie shifted her weight to her left foot. “He wasn’t exactly what you’d call a family man. He spent all of his time chasing the almighty dollar and never had time for me or my mother.”
And chasing every skirt he laid eyes on
.

“What about now? Do you still see him?”

“I haven’t spoken to him since my mother’s funeral and I don’t intend to. He didn’t want us then and I don’t need him now.”

A muscle in Max’s chin twitched. “What about Alex? Shouldn’t he have a chance to know his grandfather?”

“No.” The word exploded from her lips. She would
not
let her father destroy Alex’s life too.

Max started at her sharp answer. “I realize your father isn’t perfect, but he is the only one you have. Maybe it’s time to put this all behind you and try again. For Alex’s sake.”

Sophie’s heart squeezed. “That’s not possible. Not anymore,” she whispered.
I will not betray my mother by forgiving that man.

“Everyone isn’t lucky enough to have a family, Sophie. I’d hate to see you throw yours away and regret it later on.” The harshness in Max’s voice took her by surprise, making her briefly wonder if he were referring to himself. Especially since he’d never mentioned his own family. “Surely, you can find some way to forgive him.”

“My father is dead to me,” Sophie told him flatly. “And I’d rather not discuss it anymore. I want to make A Touch of Spice a success in honor of my mother’s memory. I don’t need my father to do that.”

Max was quiet for a moment and Sophie thought he was going to press her further, then his muscles relaxed. “I’m sorry you feel that way about you father.” His eyes softened. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make your business a success. The least I can do is make sure you make the right connections.”

Shocked, Sophie jerked her gaze to his. “You’d do that?”

“Of course. You’re raising my son. I want you to be successful.” He pushed a stray tendril from her eyes, his fingers brushing against her cheek ever so softly. Sophie’s heart fluttered against her ribs. “I can see how hard you’ve worked and how important this is to you. Besides,” a smile played at the corners of his mouth, “anyone who’d pop out of a cake in a G-string deserves a break.”

Heat eased into Sophie’s cheeks, but she couldn’t help but smile. “You don’t have to remind me what an idiot I made of myself.”

“I thought it was very brave of you.” Max tried to keep a straight face, but his lips twitched, betraying the grin underneath. “Though I wasn’t quite sure about that dance you were trying to pull off. What was that anyway? The Robot?” Max jerked his arms and waist in stiff electronic motions to demonstrate.

Sophie’s smile dissolved into a giggle at his rendition of the eighties dance. This was a side of Max she’d never seen but rather enjoyed. His version of the silly dance seemed at odds with his usual serious nature, yet this was the side she could see relating to Alex. Hope plucked at her heart. This was how a real dad should be and maybe, just maybe, Max could be what Alex needed after all.

Sophie swatted his arm playfully. “Why don’t you try balancing on a slick lacquer table in three-inch heels and see how well you do?” He didn’t need to know she couldn’t have pulled it off in her sensible flats in the grass. Coordination was not one of her strong suites.

Max’s laugh rumbled through her. “I think I’ll pass. I don’t believe I’d look nearly as sexy as you did.” His tone turned silky, his eyes darkening to a sensuous shade of gray as he caught her hand in his. Sophie’s breath hitched. “But that bird’s eye view of the birthmark on your thigh was more than enough to make up for the God-awful dance.”

Sexy?

Her stomach somersaulted. He thought she was sexy?

Sophie licked her suddenly parched lips. “M–my birthmark?”

“Mmm.” His hand slipped from hers and his fingers teased nerve-endings in her arm she didn’t even know existed. Her pulse kicked into third gear. “A cute little half-moon that’s been driving me wild for days now,” he murmured in her ear, his warm breath blowing a strand of hair at her temple.

Sophie’s brain fuzzed over as his fingers continued their trail of ecstasy along her arm. “It has?”

“Absolutely. I can’t seem to get it out of my mind. Or this.” He lowered his head and his firm, wet lips claimed hers, forcing them to part. The huskiness in his voice slid over her like a satin sheet.

Max hauled her against him, his need for her evident against her thigh. Sophie pulled a jerky breath as he deepened the kiss, his lips demanding more as his tongue slid past her teeth and met hers in frenzied dance of passion.

A soft sigh shuddered through her. She responded to him hot touch for hot touch as the scent of exotic musky spice tantalized her senses. God, he smelled delicious. Her hands somehow found their way around his neck and tangled in the short spiky curls just above his collar.

Max’s groan, low in his throat, stirred a heat wave in her body. He jerked her closer and yanked the bottom of her white button-down blouse from the waistband of her black trousers.


Dio
, woman! You’re driving me out of my mind!” Max muttered hoarsely against her mouth as his hand slid underneath the silk material and stroked her stomach before sliding it around her waist to her caress her the length of her spine.

BOOK: Catering to the Italian Playboy
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