Crista McHugh - The Sweetest Seduction

“So you are going to go after her?”

He glanced down at the folder and then back at his mom. The easy thing to do would be to let her go, to acknowledge that they both loved their jobs too much to ever truly be comfortable with each other as long as her restaurant sat in his building. But that wasn’t what he wanted, not now. And if it meant he had to go to her on his knees and beg for forgiveness for whatever he’d unconsciously done to offend her, he’d do it. “Yes.”

His mother beamed with contained joy for a few seconds before growing serious. “Did Lia ever tell you why she went to Italy in the first place four years ago?”

“She said her fiancé cheated on her, and she wanted to make a fresh start.” He racked his brain trying to figure out what that had to do with them. “I didn’t do that.”

“I know you didn’t, but you have to remember that Lia is very proud, and very determined not to find herself in the same position where she’s dependent on someone else. She’s put so much of herself into her restaurant that she’d be at a loss if she were forced to give it up.”

“And I don’t want her to give it up. I’ve even authorized repairs to the space so it’ll be exactly as she had it before the fire.”

“Then perhaps you should tell her that.” She shoved the folder toward him. “Shall I have Bates schedule your flight while you pack?”

He tucked the folder containing the leases into his briefcase, making a mental note to stop by the building and take pictures of the repair process so far. “That sounds like a good plan.”

“Excellent. Now, I need your help dealing with Ben.” His mother launched into a new conversation about how worried she was about his brother, but he only half listened. His thoughts were occupied by the green-eyed chef on the other side of the world.

By this time tomorrow, he’d be in Italy.

And with any luck, he’d have Lia back in his arms.

“That’s enough, Carolina.” Lia yanked the jar filled with red pepper flakes away from her mother’s cousin. “You don’t want your guests biting into a fireball.”

“But I like it spicy.” Carolina grabbed a pinch more from the open jar and sprinkled it over the mixture of ground chicken and ricotta cheese that comprised the filling for the ravioli they were making. “Remember, it’s my kitchen.”

As if she could forget. Carolina ruled over the massive kitchen like a queen over a small province. Here she was the master, and Lia was the student. But that didn’t mean the pupil couldn’t make a few small tweaks here and there.

Carolina peered over Lia’s shoulder at the pale green sheet of pasta rolling out of the press. “What did you put in the dough?”

“A little pureed basil.”

The queen threw her hands up in the air and muttered a string of curses in Italian, followed by an overly dramatic monologue about how children had no respect for their elders and tradition.

But that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Lia had nothing but respect for the traditional dishes her mother’s cousin prepared. It was here she’d first learned the art of Italian cooking. It was here where she’d discovered her passion. And it was here she’d found solace after life dealt her another series of blows to her love life.

Only this time, she didn’t find the escape she sought. Adam constantly lingered in her mind. She missed his smile. She missed his self-deprecating humor. She missed the touch of his lips on her skin. She missed falling asleep in his arms. And with each passing day, she began to wonder if she’d made a mistake in seeing the world in black and white terms. There was a chance she could have had both her passions—Adam and La Arietta—but her pride kept her from seeing it that way before she left. Now, in the laid-back world of Italy, she began to see possibilities she’d never considered, scenarios where she could have it all. And maybe, once she got La Arietta up and running again in a new location, she could try to pick up the pieces with Adam.

That is, if it wasn’t too late.

Nick, Carolina’s younger son, rambled down the stairs. “What did you do this time, Lia?” he asked with a wink before placing a soothing kiss on his mother’s forehead

“Just made a slight improvement to tonight’s menu.” She held out the thin sheet of dough for him. “I didn’t trigger the fall of the Roman Empire or anything like that.”

“She is always changing something.” Carolina pointed a gnarled finger at Lia. “You’d think she was here to take over my kitchen.”

The thought was tempting. She could turn the family’s agriturismo into a world-class dining experience and not give La Arietta a second thought. But she also knew she’d never wrestle control of the kitchen from Carolina as long as her mother’s cousin lived.

And Italy was too far away from the man she loved.

“Lia’s an accomplished chef, Mama. She’s only trying to please our guests with something that will surely be delicious.” He came by Lia and whispered so his mother couldn’t overhear, “Not to mention it has been a step above what we’ve been serving. You have to write some of this down for me so I can continue doing it once you leave.”

She didn’t envy Nick. Shortly after she’d arrived four years ago, Lia had convinced her family to buy an old sixteenth-century estate and turn it into an agriturismo, a working farm that doubled as a bed and breakfast for visitors. Nick’s brother, Giovanni, revived the ancient Sangiovese vines and started producing a wine that was already getting rave reviews from tasters. Nick took over the accommodation part of the business, seeing to the guests’ needs and making sure the rooms were booked well in advance.

It also involved appeasing the diva chef on site.

“I’ll start a diary for you,” she said and stretched the fresh dough out on the sturdy wooden table. “We’re ready for the filling, Carolina.”

Her mother’s cousin cradled the bowl like a child, unwilling to part with it. “You promise not to make any more changes to tonight’s dinner?”

Lia crossed her fingers behind her back so only Nick could see them. “Of course.”

She just wouldn’t let Carolina know about the fresh summer savory and tarragon that she’d added to the rub for the chicken they were planning on roasting.

Nick drew them together, his arms around their shoulders. “I’m the luckiest man in the world to have two such talented cooks working for me.”

His compliment soothed his mother’s ruffled feathers, and Carolina began dropping spoonfuls of the filling on the dough. When she came to the end of the sheet, Lia covered them with another sheet of dough and pressed the two layers together, carefully removing any air from them that could cause the ravioli to explode during cooking.

Carolina glanced down her nose and nodded in approval when Lia had finished. “Yes, that will do. The basil might even balance out the pepper.”

Lia grinned and ran a pizza cutter along the sheet, cutting it up into individual squares. One battle at a time.

She was just finishing up the third batch of ravioli when she heard a familiar voice asking in stilted Italian, “Dov’è Lia?”

Her heart stutter-stepped to a halt. She turned to the stairs that led to the lobby of the manor house just in time to see a pair of polished black leather shoes descend into view. A second later she saw Adam, immaculately dressed in a tailored suit that made his shoulders seem broader than ever.

Their eyes met. He stopped a few steps from the kitchen, staring at her as though he hadn’t seen her in years.

Her pulse pounded in her ears, and her hands suddenly felt clumsy. She wiped them on her apron, fully aware of the audience of relatives who’d filtered in around them. “Adam, what are you doing here?”

“I—” His voice cracked, and he turned away to grab something from his briefcase. “I wanted to talk to you about this.”

He held out a folder, and something collapsed inside her chest. He was here for business, not her. She looked down at her flour-covered hands. “Give me a moment to clean up, and I’ll meet you outside.”

He nodded and retreated up the stairs. Unfortunately, the family didn’t follow. Carolina’s two daughters crowded around her at the sink. “Who’s he?” Sophia asked in Italian.

“Yes, he’s hot,” Estella added. “If you don’t want him, can I give him my number?”

“The American is here to see Lia, not you silly girls.” Carolina shooed them away and held out a clean towel. “Remember that pride often closes our eyes, our ears, and our hearts. Don’t forget to ask and to listen.”

Lia took the towel and dried her hands, wondering how much her mother had shared with her cousin while Lia was on the plane. Her breath calmed, and a new feeling of peace surrounded her. Surely, Adam wouldn’t have come all the way here just to deliver the termination of her contract. “Grazie mille, Zia Carolina.”

She took the steps one at a time, bolstering her courage as she rose into the lobby. Nick was trying to engage Adam in a lighthearted conversation while Sophia and Estella pretended to be cleaning, their dark gazes fixed on Adam as they worked. When they saw her, they stopped and giggled, retreating into the next room. Carolina hobbled up the stairs and leaned against the wall. They were all watching her to see what happened next.

Adam glanced at the audience gathered around them. “Is there some place where we can talk privately?”

“This way.” She led him out the back door toward the farmyard, casting one glare over her shoulder at her family as she closed the door behind him. If they dared follow, she’d give them a tongue-lashing that would make even Carolina blush.