Harry’s Bar, a ridiculously expensive pub in the heart of the city, was more than just a classy restaurant, it was a cultural institution. Open since the 1930s, it attracted Venetian high society, diplomats and celebrities from around the globe. The menu was simple, and the furnishings understated, but the award-winning food more than made up for the modest decor.
“Might I recommend the Cipriani chocolate cake for dessert?” The waiter, an older gentleman with kind eyes, collected Paris and Rafael’s empty lunch plates and refilled their water glasses. “It’s our most celebrated dish, and one of the First Lady’s personal favorites.”
“Sounds good,” Rafael said. “We’d also like another round of Bellini cocktails.”
The waiter gave a curt nod. “Very well, sir. I’ll be back shortly with your order.”
“You have to quit feeding me, or I won’t be able to fit into my gown tomorrow!” Paris joked, settling back comfortably in her chair. “I don’t want to get on the bride’s bad side—”
“Don’t worry, Paris. I’ll be there to protect you.”
He flashed a grin, and her breath caught on a moan. The second floor was filled to the brim with distinguished diners, and waiters in shiny bow ties rushing to and fro, but when Rafael looked at her everyone else faded into the background.
His gaze roamed over her face, warmed her tingling flesh. Desire blazed in his eyes, and for a pulse-pounding second Paris feared he was going to kiss her. What should I do if he does? Push him away, kiss him back or make a break for the emergency exit?
Swallowing hard, she moistened her lips with her tongue. Her attraction to Rafael was ruling her, mind and body, and if she didn’t get a handle on her feelings quick she was going to fall victim to her desires. And there’s nothing cute about pouncing on a man in public.
“The Cipriani chocolate cake is the pièce de résistance, and I can’t let you leave Venice without trying it. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”
“God, you’re smooth,” she quipped. “Now I know why Julietta’s been throwing herself at you all weekend. You’re as charming as they get!”
“She’s not interested in me per se, just my bank account.”
“That’s a harsh assessment. You hardly know her.”
“I know her type.” A frown wrinkled his brow, caused fine lines to gather around his eyes and mouth. “Tell me something.”
“Ask away. What’s on your mind?”
Rafael picked up her left hand, gently caressed each finger. Electricity crackled between them, and the more he stroked her skin the harder it was for Paris to concentrate.
“You’re single, right?”
All she could do was nod her head. Her mind was too jumbled to produce a coherent thought. She tried to ignore the flutter in the pit of her stomach, that tingling sensation shooting down her spine, but to no avail. He’s just a man, scolded her conscience. Sure, he’s tall, ripped and toned, but that’s no reason to get nervous and flustered.
His caress was better than she remembered. Paris told herself to breathe, to stare at something—anything—besides Rafael’s lips, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his face. Her desire for him was strong, so intense it made it impossible for her to think. Moving her hand away was out of the question too. Paris loved how he’d always made her feel desirable, wanted and sexy. “I date from time to time,” she said, twirling a lock of hair around the index finger of her free hand. “But I’m single, and have no plans to settle down.”
“Then why are you wearing an expensive diamond ring?”
To keep the opposite sex at bay. Talking about her ex-boyfriend always made her tear up, and since she didn’t want to have an emotional breakdown at their quaint corner table, Paris racked her brain for a suitable answer. Wanting to keep the mood upbeat, she said, “I love diamonds. Sue me!”
“I understand that, but why not wear the ring on your other hand?”
His question caught her off guard. No one had ever grilled her about her diamond ring before, but then again, she’d never let anyone get this close. Men were good for one thing and one thing only. After the deed was done Paris went home—alone. Pillow talk wasn’t an option, and neither was spending the night with her lover. “You’re a guy. You wouldn’t understand.”
Rafael released her hand and sat up straighter. “Try me.”
“I’m good at my job and I take great pride in what I do, but my clients are more interested in flirting with me than listening to what I have to say.”
“Do you blame them?” His tone changed, becoming playful, and amusement twinkled in his deep brown eyes. “You’re stunning, you have a wicked sense of humor, and sensuality and femininity literally ooze from your pores. They can’t help themselves!”
His words made her heart melt, but Paris didn’t let her feelings show. No use encouraging him. Their lunch date was a onetime thing, and despite their attraction, Paris had no desire to strike up any kind of relationship with her ex. She didn’t do long-distance, and hated the thought of being tied down to one person.
“Aren’t you afraid of scaring off Mr. Right?”
Paris laughed, and shrugged off his question with a flick of her hand. “I’m too busy being successful to worry about being single. Besides, Mr. Right doesn’t exist, and neither does the ridiculous notion of living happily ever after.”
“You sound like a pessimist.”
“I’m not a pessimist. I’m a realist. Instead of wasting my time dating, I’m focusing my energy on climbing the corporate ladder, and expanding my father’s lucrative business empire.”
“Don’t you get lonely?”
“Do you?” she asked, flipping the tables. “You’re thirty-six. Isn’t it time you quit sowing your wild oats and find a nice Italian girl to marry?”
“Have you been talking to my mother?”
His laughter filled the dining room, and the sound made her giggle. Joking around with Rafael made Paris feel good, better than she had in weeks. He was an honest-to-goodness gentleman, who said and did all the right things, and who knew how to make a woman feel special. Paris liked that. He was unique, interesting, nothing like the men most of her girlfriends complained about, and she was having a great time with him. “Have you ever been married?” she asked, her curiosity getting the best of her. “Do you have children?”
“No, and I’m in no rush to have a family.” A wicked grin curved his mouth. “I’ll settle down as soon as I meet a smart, vivacious beauty like you, and not a minute sooner.”
“Then you’re going to be single for a very long time, because I’m one in a million!”
“That’s what I thought the first time I ever laid eyes on you.” He sounded serious, as if he meant every word, and his gaze smoldered with intensity. “You looked so cute in your sundress and cowboy boots I just knew I had to meet you. You were the prettiest girl in the room. Still are.”
His confession blew her mind. “I can’t believe you remember what I wore to the spring formal our freshman year at Georgetown.”
“How could I forget? It was a special day.”
That it was, she thought, her cheeks flushed with heat. We did a whole lot of French-kissing and slow dancing that night, and by the time you walked me back to my car I was in love!
“I remember a lot of things about you—”
“Really? Like what?” Paris didn’t believe him, not for a second, so she put him on the spot.