His Ultimate Demand

‘Have you always known you wanted to be a chef?’

Her smile immediately dimmed and he cursed himself for broaching a touchy subject.

‘I knew I had my parents’ talent but I resisted it for a long time.’

‘I’ve seen the footage of the contest. You’re not a natural in front of the camera.’

One brow rose. ‘Gee, thanks.’

‘What I mean is, you can easily prove to your parents that they’re wasting their time trying to recruit you.’

‘It won’t stop them from trying.’

He shrugged. ‘Then tell them you have a demanding new business partner.’

She shook her head. ‘I’d rather not.’

‘You want to keep me your dirty little secret, tesoro?’

She smiled but the light in her eyes remained dim. ‘Something like that. What about you? Have you always known you wanted to be a warlock?’

He laughed, experiencing a new lightness inside. When her lips curved in response, he forcibly clenched his hands to stop from reaching for her. ‘Ever since I made my first million at eighteen.’

‘Wow, that must have brought the girls running.’

He shrugged, suddenly reluctant to dwell on past conquests. ‘It gave me the ammunition I needed...’

She frowned slightly. ‘Ammunition. To fight your father?’

‘To fight Giacomo, yes.’

‘Why do you call him Giacomo?’

He exhaled. ‘Because he was never a father to me.’

She paused and that soft look entered her eyes. The realisation that he didn’t mind talking to her about his past shocked him. He tried to tell himself it meant nothing, but he knew he was deluding himself.

‘What about your mother? Is she alive?’

Sharp pain pierced his chest. ‘My poor mama is what started this whole nasty business.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘She died giving birth to me. I was so determined to make a quick entrance into the world, I caused her to bleed almost to death by the roadside before an ambulance could arrive.’

Her gasp echoed around the sun-dappled deck. ‘Surely, you don’t think that’s your fault?’

‘Giacomo certainly seems to think so.’

It occurred to him that Ruby was the first woman he’d actively conversed with. Normally, any conversation was limited to the bedroom. But with sex off the table it seemed talking was the next best thing.

‘That’s why there’s so much animosity between you two. He blames you for your mother’s death?’

‘It may have started out that way, but our relationship has evolved...mutated.’

‘Into what?’

He started to answer then stopped. ‘Into something that’s no longer clear-cut.’ Shock rolled through him as he accepted the truth. He’d started out wanting to destroy his father. Along the way, and especially lately, the urge to deliver the kill blow had waned. Even toying with his father now no longer held any interest for him.

‘So what are you going to do about it?’

Sì, what was he going to do?

Call it a day and cut off all ties with Giacomo? The sudden ache in his gut made him stiffen and jerk upright.

‘Enough about me. You have an exceptional talent. I’m officially hiring you to cater my dinner party.’

The compliment brought a smile to her lips. Again, he forced himself not to reach out and caress the satin smoothness of her determined jaw. The urge was stronger because he needed something to blot out his confused thoughts of his father.

‘Thank you.’ She put the sun protection down and glanced at him. ‘Can I get you anything?’

He shook his head. ‘No more cocktails.’

Her smile widened. ‘Then I have the perfect thing.’

She stood and walked to the chiller behind the bar. To his surprise she returned with an ice-cold beer. ‘Sometimes a beer is the perfect solution to thirst.’

Narciso twisted off the cap with relish and took a long swig, and looked over to find her eyes on his throat. The feel of her eyes on him made his temperature shoot sky-high.

‘Aren’t you having a drink?’

She indicated the glass of water on the table next to her lounger.

‘That must be warm by now.’

Wordlessly, he held out the bottle to her. Her eyes met his and sensation skated over him. Their attraction was skittering out of control but he couldn’t seem to apply the brakes.

‘You’re thirsty. Take it.’

Slowly, she took the bottle from him. Her pink tongue darted out to caress the lip of the bottle before she took a small swig.

She held it back out to him. ‘Thanks.’

‘So beers are an exception to your don’t-drink-much rules?’

‘A small drink doesn’t hurt.’

‘Aren’t you afraid you’ll lose control with me?’ he asked roughly.