The Italians: Rico, Antonio and Giovanni: The Hidden Heart of Rico Rossi / The Moretti Seduction / The Boselli Bride

No, it couldn’t be him. It had to be someone who looked a bit like him. He was hundreds of miles away, in Rome. And why would he come to her launch party, anyway? She hadn’t invited him. And if she’d really meant anything to him—if the time they’d spent together in Rome had been more than just Rico acting a role to amuse himself—then he would’ve got in touch with her before now. The hotel had all her details from her booking. His silence proved what she’d learned so shockingly on that last day: that it had all been some kind of spoiled playboy’s game. He wasn’t interested in her. He’d made that clear. He’d lied to her when there hadn’t been any need to lie.

But then he caught her eye. Raised his mug. Blew her a kiss.

And every circuit in her brain felt as if it had just fried.

This wasn’t fair. Just when she really needed to concentrate, all she could think of was the way that gorgeous mouth had enjoyed every centimetre of her skin, brought her such glorious pleasure. He was breathtaking to look at, and he made her feel like no one else ever had. Which made him incredibly dangerous to her peace of mind.

She hated the fact that she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. That she still wanted him every bit as much as she’d wanted him in Rome.

She dropped her pen. Although she knew it made her look clumsy, at least it made her look away from Rico. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not usually this scatty,’ she said apologetically to her client. She forced herself to ignore Rico and concentrate on what she did best, planning and making cakes to delight people. Finally she had all the details of the commission, took a deposit and gave her new client a receipt. She was just putting everything in her briefcase when Rico walked over.

‘Ella bellezza,’ he said softly, his voice low and husky; in response all her hormones sat up and begged.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, trying desperately to sound cooler than she felt.

‘I think we have unfinished business.’

‘No, we don’t.’

‘You walked out on me in Rome without a word.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘You lied your face off. What did you expect, congratulations and a helium balloon?’

‘I think,’ he said, ‘we need to talk.’

She knew what he meant by that. She’d been there before with Michael. No doubt Rico, too, thought he could exercise a bit of charm and talk her round to his point of view. Wrong. She wasn’t repeating her mistakes. ‘I have nothing to say to you.’

‘Is everything OK?’ A tall, statuesque woman appeared beside Ella and gave her a concerned look.

‘It’s fine,’ Rico said, smiling. ‘Ella’s cakes are amazing. And I was about to ask her to make me a special cake.’

She was looking daggers at him, and the other woman clearly picked up the atmosphere. ‘Perhaps I can help you. Ella’s been on the go all day.’

‘You’re Ella’s business partner?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ the woman said.

‘No,’ Ella said at the same time, and sighed. ‘It’s OK, Ju. I’ll deal with this.’

‘Signal me if you need me, Ella,’ Julia said, and gave Rico a hard look, as if warning him to go easy on Ella or he’d have her to deal with.

‘Your guard dog?’ Rico asked.

‘My best friend,’ she corrected. ‘Though, yes, she does look out for me.’ She lifted her chin. ‘What do you want, Rico?’

‘To commission a cake.’

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I don’t have time for playing games.’

‘I’m not playing games. I have a business opportunity in London. If I decide to add the hotel to my chain, then I’ll need to have some kind of opening ceremony, and that in turn means I’ll need a cake for the party.’

‘So that’s an “if”. Not a definite.’ She shook her head in disgust. ‘Where do you stop with the lies?’

‘I haven’t lied to you.’

She folded her arms. ‘You told me you were a tour guide.’

‘Which I was. For that day. I’m hands-on in my business. I do a stint in every job, every few months, so I can see the issues my staff face and where things can be improved for both customers and staff. The day I met you, I was a tour guide.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me who you really were?’

‘Because.’ He sighed. ‘Ella, this isn’t the place to discuss it.’

‘You’re telling me.’

‘Can I take you to dinner, when you’ve finished here?’

‘Why?’

‘So you can continue with your launch party and do what you do best. And then we’ll talk.’

‘I …’

‘We have unfinished business,’ he said softly, ‘and you know it, Ella bellezza.’

She scoffed. ‘I don’t think so.’

There was only one way to prove it to her. He stooped very slightly and brushed his mouth against hers in the lightest, sweetest, softest kiss. His mouth tingled where it touched hers.

She shivered, and he noticed that her pupils had dilated hugely.

‘And that was barely a kiss. If I kissed you properly, Ella, neither of us would give a damn that we’re surrounded by strangers. We’d both go up in flames. That’s what I mean by unfinished.’

She swallowed hard. ‘I’m working,’ she whispered.

‘Which is why I suggested dinner. Afterwards.’

She closed her eyes, looking defeated, and for a moment Rico really didn’t like himself for the way he’d pressured her. But he hadn’t done anything wrong—had he? ‘Just dinner, Ella. When we’ve talked things through.’

She opened her eyes again. ‘OK.’

‘Good—and, by the way, your cakes are superb.’ He couldn’t resist just one taunt. ‘I particularly like the passion fruit one.’ He put the emphasis on passion, and Ella blushed to the roots of her hair.

He winked at her, and disappeared back into the crowd.

Flustered, Ella grabbed the mug of coffee she’d abandoned half an hour earlier and took a gulp of the lukewarm liquid.

‘Who was that?’ Julia asked, returning to her side.