Home > An Inconvenient Love(12)

An Inconvenient Love(12)
Author: Alexia Adams

“Relax, cara. I am not going to eat you.” His lips said the words but the heat in his eyes as they roved over her body belied his statement. Warmth flushed through her, settling in her lower abdomen, and for a moment she rethought her plan of having her own bedroom.

Maria entered the dining room and placed a large platter on the table. She opened the glass doors into the sitting room and said something in Italian to Luca before leaving.

“Dinner is ready,” Luca translated. “Shall we eat?” Already his hand had found its way to the small of her back and was steering her toward the table through the open doors. He pulled out her chair and waited for her to be seated before sitting at the head of the table. Maria returned and placed a tureen on the table and quietly said something to Luca as she left the room.

“Please, help yourself,” he said as he removed the cover from the platter. The first tray contained an assortment of cold meats, pickled artichokes, olives, and breads while the tureen held minestrone soup. He poured her a glass of wine as she filled her plate. The delicious soup had clearly never seen the inside of a can. The aroma of fresh herbs and homegrown vegetables impressed Sophia with each spoonful. As she finished, Maria returned, carrying a heaped bowl of pasta, which she placed on the table and then spoke quietly to Luca before retreating.

“I tried to learn a few Italian phrases before I came, but obviously I have a lot to learn. Did I do something wrong?” Sophia inquired.

“Not at all. Maria was commenting on your good appetite.”

“The food is so delicious. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so good.”

“I will pass on your compliment when she brings the main course in,” he replied, a hint of laughter in his eyes. The warm, human Luca was back. He’d left the businessman in the office.

“The main course? What is this then?” Sophia pointed at the heaped bowl of pasta.

“This is the second course. First was antipasto and soup, then pasta. The main course is cotoletta, which is breaded veal, and polenta, I believe she said. Then dessert and cheeses and fresh fruit, if you wish.”

“You eat like this every night? I’m amazed you’re not thirty stone!” She admired his lean, muscular form.

“I rarely eat at home. Maria is trying to impress you with a special meal.”

“Well, I am impressed, but please tell her that I can’t eat like this every night. I’m used to having a sandwich for dinner. One course is all I need, if that. If you don’t eat at home, why do you have a cook?”

“Maria and Vittore came with the house, so to speak. When I bought the place the previous owner asked if I would hire them. They have lived and worked here for almost forty years. During the renovation, Maria kept the workers well fed. This was my crew’s favorite job site,” he explained.

“As you have a cook, cleaner, and gardener, I guess there’s not much for me to do around the house,” she mused, wondering how she was going to fill her days. Having worked two, sometimes three, jobs at a time for the last five years, and studied or done charity work in any spare time she had, she wasn’t used to being idle.

“You will find something to fill your time. Milan is one of the world’s fashion capitals. I am sure you will enjoy shopping,” Luca replied.

“I suppose so,” she agreed absently. She wasn’t much of a shopper. Then again she’d never had money to shop with before. One thing she really needed to do was learn Italian. She couldn’t sit in stilted silence with the cook and gardener while Luca was away at work all day.

The rest of the meal passed in pleasant conversation. Luca told her about the state of the property when he first bought it and the renovation process. “I didn’t choose the furniture or decorative items. So if there is anything you want to change, do so. I am not attached to anything, except my study,” he said.

When Maria brought in the dessert and coffee, Sophia thanked her for the delicious dinner. Marie beamed as she left the room. But it also signaled the end of the meal. Sophia’s hand shook as she stirred some sugar into her coffee.

“I think you have made a conquest there,” Luca noted. “Shall we have our coffee in the sitting room?” He rose and picked up her cup.

Sophia sat on the bright red sofa and tried to get comfortable. The seat was too wide, so she couldn’t lean against the back without having her feet stick straight out like a child’s. And it was so low to the floor that if she sat forward her legs splayed out like a crushed spider. She wondered if it was bought for no other reason than because it was the most expensive one in the store.

Luca sat next to her and handed her the coffee. Tangible electricity flowed between them. The butterflies in her stomach turned to sparrows and threatened to bring up the delicious dinner with their out-of-formation flying.

Glancing at Luca’s face, she recognized the raw passion and stared at the coffee cup in her hands. She started to speak, cleared her throat, and tried again. “Um, Luca, there is something I should tell you … ”

He looked at her, his eyebrows raised, as if wondering what terrible secret she could be about to reveal.

“I’m a virgin—I haven’t had, um, sex before,” she blurted out. “And, well, we’ve not really spent a lot of time together. I want to wait until I know you better before we share a bed. I’ve put my things in the yellow bedroom.”

Chapter 5

Luca swallowed. Disappointment warred with elation. He wouldn’t be an Italian male if he wasn’t pleased to know his wife had never been with another man. But all day he’d been anticipating tonight, when he could remove the pins from her hair and watch it tumble down her naked back. Feather kisses down her long, graceful neck until he came to her pert breasts … Perhaps if they repeated the kiss they’d exchanged at the registry office, Sophia would change her mind about delaying their wedding night.

No. She needed time and he would respect her wishes. They had years and years together. He could wait—if it wasn’t too long. It seemed his rule on not sleeping with married women extended to his own wife.

Hopefully, the delay was only a temporary setback and would be resolved before the Wilkinses arrived. He hadn’t felt it right to tell Chet he’d not returned his calls sooner because he was getting married. There was already going to be enough speculation by his friends and associates about his quick marriage. Most, he knew, would assume Sophia was pregnant. In a way it would have made the whole situation more understandable. No one would believe he hadn’t even slept with her yet. He’d have to rely on her acting ability to see them through any difficulty. She’d been amazing during the wedding photos, even had him believing for a moment theirs was a love match. Even more surprising was the fact he hadn’t had any difficulty pretending to be enamored with her, either.

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