Pride etched out the lines of her mother’s face. “Well done. Why don’t we celebrate with some Moscato? I have a bottle chilling in the refrigerator, and we’ll open it at dinner.
Perhaps, now that this big deal has been signed, you will finally ease up the workload?”
Julietta’s confidence slipped a notch and she avoided her mother’s gaze. of course. Business was never enough when compared to marriage and love and babies. She swallowed back the ridiculous sting of tears, wondering if she was getting her period. What was up with her lately? She was so emotional and . . . girly. “Actually, I’ll need to work harder,” she said lightly. “But I enjoy every moment. I’m doing exactly what I always dreamed.”
Mama Conte sliced off a piece of fresh mozzarella and handed it to her with bread. The rich, creamy texture sank into the warm dough, and Julietta swallowed in pleasure. “I know you enjoy your career. Without you, I don’t know if La Dolce Famiglia would have succeeded, even with Michael at the helm. you have a gift. I just want you to share it with someone special.”
She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. Typical motherly dream. Still, the comment bit hard, as if what Julietta had done with her life wasn’t enough. It wasn’t as if she could confess to her mother something was wrong with her, and she couldn’t connect with a man. She pushed the depression to the back of her mind and tried to concentrate on enjoy-ing her visit. “Perhaps one day,” she said brightly.
“Si. one day.”
A knock at the door saved her from further inquiry.
She wiped her hands on the towel and grinned. “Ah, our mysterious visitor. I bet it’s Father richard; he’s always happy to eat your cooking.” She moved to the front door and opened it.
Her mouth fell open.
Sawyer Wells stood in the entrance. His business suit had been replaced by a pair of comfortable khakis, a thick cableknit cream sweater, and Versace leather croc boots.
His hair swung free and touched his shoulders in a delicious mess of golden waves. He held a bouquet of freshly picked flowers and a bottle of red wine. “Hey.”
She stared.
He cocked his head and seemed to fight amusement.
“Umm, can I come in?”
She recovered her voice and lowered it to a hiss. “What are you doing here?”
one brow shot up. “I guess you didn’t realize I was invited to dinner.”
She blinked. “Huh?”
“real wordsmith out of the office, aren’t you? your mother invited me to dinner.”
Julietta jerked back. “Impossible.”
A voice from the hallway drifted to the open door.
“Julietta, stop torturing the man and let him in. He is correct.”
Sawyer grinned. “Told ya.”
He stepped around her and waltzed past. Her fingers clenched around the door in an effort to keep standing.
After a few deep breaths, she followed him in. “How beautiful,” Mama Conte crooned, inhaling the scent of roses and lilies. “Julietta, can you put these in the vase from the living room? Sawyer, can you open the bottle of Moscato? It’s in the refrigerator. I was just told Julietta closed a big deal, and we’re celebrating.”
Sawyer rocked on his heels, obviously amused at the whole scenario. “Big deal, huh? of course.”
“Mama, what’s going on? I didn’t know you and Sawyer were . . . close?”
Her mother’s head snapped around. “He is a friend of Max’s, and it is Sunday. of course, I would invite him to dine with us. My home is open to all, especially one known to my family. I am sure you agree with me, correct?”
Julietta licked her dry lips. ouch. Her mama’s anger was something to be reckoned with, and nothing pissed her off more than the idea of people not being welcome in her home. Mio Dio, why was this happening to her today? She only wanted some peace and quiet, and now the symbol of her distress would be breaking bread in her family home.
She forced the words out. “of course. Let me get the vase.”
She busied herself with the flowers as Sawyer uncorked the champagne and poured. Small talk fluttered back and forth between them, but her skin burned under the scorch-ing heat of his gaze. How did the man manage to shrink the room? He carried himself with a powerful dignity that stole all the air around her. Vulnerability shot through her. She wished suddenly for her business suit and high heels. Her current Sunday outfit consisted of jeans, a purple T-shirt under a zippered sweater, and black suede flats. Her hair was loose and a bit tangled from the breeze, and she rarely wore makeup when hanging with her mother. She pressed her lips together and swore not to let him make her feel uncomfortable. He was the outsider—not her.
“Both of you sit and relax. I have everything under control. Have some antipasto.” The tray of prosciutto, crackers, cheese, and pepperoni looked inviting. There was something intimate about eating in her mama’s kitchen. The heavy pine table was large, but the space evoked a cozy at-mosphere. The huge arched window over the sink allowed light to pour through and showed off the view of the rolling golden hills. The rich colors of burnt orange, scarlet, and gold shimmered in welcome from the pine floors to the colorful pasta bowls and trays hand painted in bright tones.
Hand-stitched linens and mats made a presentation for every plate served. The scents of gravy, steamed garlic, and lemon hung heavily in the air and wrapped them in warmth.
Julietta knew her mother wouldn’t let her help when there were guests here, so she filled her plate to bursting, sipped her champagne, and tossed her business partner a glare.
He didn’t seem intimidated. More like fascinated by her outfit, greedy appetite, and surliness.
“I’m so honored you invited me to dinner, Mama Conte.
I assume Julietta shared the good news about our deal?”
“No, we didn’t get to the details yet. My goodness, you mean you’re both working together?”
Sawyer grinned. “yes. I’m building a new chain of hotels called Purity, and La Dolce Famiglia will be my exclusive supplier. of course, Max will take care of the U.S. hotels but the big launch is Milan. Julietta will be key to helping make this a success.”
She tried hard not to make a face at him, which was extremely juvenile and beneath her. How dare he steal her thunder? As if he bestowed his contract as a gift without her having a say in the matter. Screw him. She jumped in.
“of course, negotiation was involved before I’d sign the contracts. Some of the clauses were unacceptable.”
“of course.” His ready agreement only pissed her off more. Why did he continuously annoy her?
“She makes this family proud. And you’ve done well for yourself, Sawyer. Tell me about this hotel chain.”
As he talked about Purity, she caught the glow of pleasure on his face. odd, she understood him in some basic ways. The need to succeed and prove oneself. The fierce satisfaction of building something of your own in a world where nothing was permanent. She rarely analyzed where the drive came from. She was too afraid to know the truth.
It had been a full week since the kiss. As if he had sensed she needed to retreat, he had allowed her the distance and stuck to a few phone calls and a short visit that focused entirely on business.
But the damage had been done.
She thought about the kiss all the time. The texture of his lips, the scent of his skin, and the promise of his mouth, open and hungry on hers. She had tossed and turned at night and had cursed him. How could such an innocent peck affect her so deeply? If she didn’t know her body, she would’ve thrown away her reserve and her principles and dragged him into bed.
Unfortunately, she knew what would happen. The burst of flame and lust. The promise of satisfaction. And eventually, the withering of heat as her body pruned up and chilled under a man’s hand. Sawyer would be no different, and she didn’t intend to have him figure out her secret.