Best of Bosses 2008(56)

‘Too hot?’

‘Nope. Just perfect. And the wine’s good, too. Barolo, yes?’

Trust him to know. She smiled. ‘Of course. I can just imagine your face if I’d served you French wine.’

He laughed. ‘My favourite wine’s French, actually. Margaux. It tastes of vanilla and blackcurrant. Oh, and talking of tasting—want to come with me to a cupping? I normally go with Dad, but he asked me if you’d join us next time. I think he’s planning to teach you some of the stuff he’s taught me.’ He grimaced. ‘Sorry. My family really takes over.’

‘No, I’d love to.’ And it still stunned her how quickly the Mazettis had taken her to their hearts. Made her feel part of them. Her phone had been beeping all day with texts from them. From his sisters, suggesting a night out to see a really girly film with lots of popcorn to cheer her up—and Marcie had also offered to go with her when she needed to buy new furniture. From Angela, saying that her friend could repair all the damage to Fran’s clothes. From Nonna, just sending her a hug.

She belonged.

Much more than she did in her own family. Here, she fitted in.

After dinner, they washed up together. Something she wasn’t used to, and it felt weirdly domesticated. Even more shockingly, she realised that she actually liked it. The whole domestic routine.

Which Gio definitely didn’t want.

She was going to have to be really careful here. Gio wasn’t offering her for ever. ‘For now’ was as good as it was going to get. And if she let herself fall too deeply for Gio and the warm, noisy, loving family that came with him as a package deal, she was going to end up with a broken heart.

She needed to keep a distance between them, however small.

‘You’ve gone quiet on me. What are you thinking?’ Gio asked.

She shook her head. ‘Nothing important.’ Nothing she’d admit to. ‘Would you play your guitar for me again?’

He leaned against the worktop and stared at her. ‘Are you in a conspiracy with Nonna and my mum to make me go to college?’

‘No. I just like it when you play.’ She smiled. ‘As long as it’s something pretty and not that tonal harmonics stuff.’

He laughed, but fetched one of the guitars from his spare room, perched on the arm of the sofa and played Mozart to her. She watched him, taking in every detail. How his beautiful hands moved. The passion in his face as the music took over—so similar to the expression on his face when he made love.

Then he looked up, gave her a slow, sweet smile, and played a tune she recognised: an arrangement of ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You’.

Was he trying to tell her something?

Her heart missed a beat. No, of course not. And she had to remember not to fall for him. Though the song was way, way too appropriate. ‘So you’re turning into Elvis now?’ she said lightly.

He smiled. ‘Hardly. And, for your information, two of the three composers of that song were Italian.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ He played it again, but this time instead of picking out the melody he strummed chords and sang it to her.

Lord, he had a gorgeous voice. A voice that made her melt.

‘The simplest tunes are the best ones,’ he said when he’d finished, and replaced the guitar in its case. ‘So. I’ve played for you.’

‘Sung for your supper.’

He lifted his forefinger. ‘Ah, but all good musicians expect payment as well as supper.’ He paused. ‘A kiss will do.’

‘A kiss.’ She stood up, reached up to him and brushed her mouth against his.

‘Call that a kiss?’ Gio tipped her back on to the sofa and gave her a wicked smile. ‘Let me show you how it’s done…’





CHAPTER FOURTEEN




THE next two weeks were the happiest Fran had ever known. Her days were spent in a job she loved, and her nights in Gio’s arms. He taught her about every erogenous zone in her body, including some she hadn’t even known existed; the way she responded to his touch scared her, because she’d never felt anything this intense before.

And then Gio really shocked her.

‘You’re going to be late for work,’ she said—her body clock now used to the time he got up to leave for the coffee shop.

‘Nope.’ He smiled at her. ‘Not today.’

She frowned. ‘You’re in late?’

‘Day off.’

She blinked. ‘Run that one by me again.’

He laughed. ‘You heard.’

‘Are you ill?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘I just have plans.’

She tried to douse the spark of disappointment that those plans obviously didn’t include her. Of course he needed her to be there in the office. That was her job. Running the café chain when he wasn’t around.