Amedeo, Her Italian Billionaire(10)
He took a bite of the stew that she’d put over egg noodles. His eyes closed. There was some wine in it and some rich broth. The chunks of beef were large, but tender. The vegetables had just the right amount of give. This might have been the most perfect stew he’d ever eaten.
“Oh. My. God. Violet. This is really good. Really delicious.”
She smiled, looking a little shy, which was not how he’d ever seen her before. On the night they’d spent together, she’d taken as much as she’d given. Maybe because she knew she’d never see him again. That didn’t work out.
“Thanks.”
“Where did you learn to cook?”
“I learned from television,” she said.
“Ah, Food Network. Making cooks out of all of us.”
“You a big fan?”
“I am. My mother taught me to cook Italian, but I learned everything else from Bobby Flay and company,” Amedeo said.
He took a sip of his wine. It worked with the stew.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked. .
“I ate before. I was hungry.”
“Okay. You sure you don’t want seconds? You are eating for two.”
She licked her lips and it looked sexy beyond belief. “Well, maybe a little more.”
She put some stew into a bowl and ate with him. He liked the domestic scene. Who would have thought? Or maybe it was just Violet. He’d been enamored and had wanted to see her again. She hadn’t felt the same, since she’d only contacted him when she found out she was pregnant.
Well, he’d enjoy her company while she was here.
He could still date. He was taking care of her, not in a relationship with her. Still, he couldn’t bring a woman home with him while Violet was living here. That wouldn’t be fair.
“You don’t have to cook for me, though I appreciate it. I was too tired to do it myself tonight. It was going to be takeout.”
“I don’t mind cooking. I’m home and I have to eat also,” she said.
“Just remember that if you’re tired and don’t want to, just let me know.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“How was your day?”
“One of my clients finally paid me. The other two are holdouts.”
“What is your recourse if they don’t pay?”
“I don’t really have any. I don’t have the money to sue them,” she said.
She looked down at her food. It must bother her that she didn’t have money. He wasn’t sure what she would let him do once the baby came, but he’d help her. He couldn’t just throw her out on the streets. Especially if she chose to keep the baby.
He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.
***
Violet was in the middle of some intense coding when she heard a noise. The front door. She glanced at the clock on her computer. He would be early. Damn. She needed a few more hours of quiet to get some work done.
He didn’t seem to like to leave her alone when he was home. She wondered if he had any friends because he hadn’t gone out after work this whole week.
She sighed. Then she listened carefully. Those weren’t his footsteps. Those sounded like high heels.
Thankfully, the kitchen was on the way to the front door. She picked up a knife on her way. Tiptoeing, she entered the hallway in time to see a coattail disappear up the steps. Shit. Should she call the cops?
Violet debated what to do. She’d left her phone by her computer in the office that Amedeo had set up for her. His was upstairs. Hers was off the kitchen. Worked well as long as he stayed in his office.
No time to go back for her phone. Hopefully she could find an extension upstairs to use.
She crept up the steps. When she arrived at the top, she listened. The person seemed to be in Amedeo’s room. His was next to hers. He’d insisted that should be in case she needed him in the middle of the night. In her mind, he was hoping for a booty call. Hadn’t happened yet, but her hormones going wacky had her thinking about it.
She shook herself. Her mind liked to take detours these days. Must be pregnancy. She contemplated what to do. With a knife in her hand, she strode to the door of Amedeo’s bedroom. She hadn’t been in here, but it was filled with dark wood. Very masculine, but very him.
She had no time to admire it before she stepped in. The shower was running. Had he come home? Was she going to walk in on him naked and soapy? The thought made her mouth dry.
No, those had been heels. Besides, he would have found her when he got home. He always did.
She eyed the phone, and knew she should call the cops, but she was pissed that someone had invaded Amedeo’s space. This was his domain. She threw open the door to the bathroom. Stepping in, she saw the person in the shower.