‘I know you do, my little cabbage, but I’m a macho Sicilian male and apart from that inherent trait that drives me to protect you from all things including menus written only in Italian, I’m suspicious of your ordering skills. You’ll order the wrong thing.’
‘I order what I want to eat, light of my life.’ Her eyes gleamed. ‘How can that be wrong?’
‘You order what you think you’re supposed to eat, kitten paws. That’s not the same thing at all. A romantic meal out is about feeding the senses.’ Enjoying himself, he watched her across the flickering flame of the candle, wishing they were alone so that they could laugh properly and enjoy their food without the audience. ‘I refuse to order you a lettuce leaf. It would be criminal.’ He proceeded to order in Italian while Taylor drummed long, manicured fingernails on the tablecloth.
Only once the waiter had left, did she speak. ‘I can’t believe you ordered for me. Dare I ask which unusual part of the anatomy I’m likely to find myself eating this time?’
Sending her a wicked look that brought colour to her cheeks, Luca raised his glass. ‘To us! I’m much better at this than you are, by the way. If you like, I can arrange for you to have acting lessons.’
There was a brief pause and then she put her napkin down slowly. ‘There’s something I have to say to you, Luca, and perhaps this isn’t the place but I need to say it so badly…?.’ It was a voice he hadn’t heard her use before. Soft, sultry and so richly feminine that the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. She reached across the table and took his hands in hers. ‘I’ve never felt like this before. I’d given up on love. And then I met you and—and I didn’t expect…’ Her voice faltered and she looked puzzled, almost humbled.
The vulnerability on her face shocked him.
He knew she was acting, but the emotion in her eyes was so genuine he felt an involuntary flicker of panic. She was giving him ‘The Look’ and The Look was something he’d avoided all his life. He made a point of ending relationships before The Look was even a tiny germ in a woman’s brain.
He tried to respond but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.
Her face was soft, transformed by love. ‘I never thought this would happen. I never thought it was possible to feel love like this and then I met you and—’ her breathing was fractured ‘—and you’re everything to me. That’s what I wanted to say. I love you. I’ve never said those words to a man before but I’m saying them now. I’m trusting you with my heart.’ The look in her eyes was so adoring his muscles clenched in terror. She was so convincing he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that crept up his spine.
‘Cristo, Taylor, you’re giving me chills.’
As the waiter murmured something incoherent and melted away, the soft look in her eyes morphed into something harder and more brittle. ‘Don’t ever call me “kitten paws” again and don’t tell me I need acting lessons or the next thing you’ll be eating between two slices of bread will be a certain supersensitive part of your anatomy.’ As Luca shuddered, another waiter placed food in front of them and Taylor gave an appreciative sniff. ‘Mmm. I can see wedded bliss is going to do nothing for my waistline.’
‘Eat, tesoro. You can go back on your stupid starvation diet tomorrow.’
‘I might not need to if the director can’t be replaced.’
To another man her insecurity might not have been visible beneath the layers of polish and poise, but Luca had been raised by a woman whose insecurities had been welded into her skin.
Of course you’re beautiful, Mama. Of course he loves you. The other women don’t mean anything.
Unsettled by the emergence of that unwanted memory, he drained his glass and allowed it to be filled again. Why was he thinking about that now when he hadn’t thought about it for years? ‘He’ll be replaced.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because I know my cousin. He has many faults, but failing isn’t one of them. He’s too competitive. Now stop worrying.’
‘Aren’t you worried about your brother?’
Luca shrugged. ‘Why would I be worried?’
‘He ran off with your cousin’s bride-to-be!’
‘That’s his problem, not mine. Now try this—it’s delicious.’ He spooned caponata onto her plate and watched as she dissected it with her fork. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Looking for its spleen.’
‘It’s vegetable, dolcezza. Vegetables don’t have spleens.’