Authors: Cara Marsi
Capri Nights
Capri Nights
By
Cara Marsi
Capri Nights
Copyright © 2015 Carolyn Matkowsky
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from Carolyn Matkowsky.
Published by The Painted Lady Press
United States of America
This book is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely in the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any references to places, events or locales are used in a fictitious manner.
Edited by Judi Fennell
Cover by Harris Channing
Formatted by Aileen Fish
Table of Contents
A San Francisco sous chef discovers she might have bitten off more than she can chew when a yummy Italian man stirs up a recipe for romance on the delicious Isle of Capri.
Sous chef Cat Connors has spent a lifetime feeling like a stale cracker on a plate of fancy hors d’oeuvres among her stepfamily. But when she travels from San Francisco to
the sunny Isle of Capri, she’s determined to finally shed her dowdy image and spice up her life. She has big plans for her future as a chef. Those plans don’t include a yummy Italian with a mouth-watering body and a smile that melts her insides like gelato under the hot Capri sun.
When Alex Viteli retreats to his villa on Capri to escape the notoriety and legal troubles brought on by his family, the last thing he needs is a beautiful, tempting dish of a woman. Alex may be the scion of a wealthy Italian family, but that won’t matter if he can’t cook up a scheme to clear his father’s name and keep himself out of prison.
Though they fit together like strawberries and chocolate, Cat and Alex may not have time for more than a quick bite of romance. Cat’s future is in San Francisco. Alex can’t leave Italy. But the sultry Capri nights might tempt them both to savor just one more sweet taste of love.
CHAPTER ONE
Isle of Capri, Italy
“
Mi
s
cusi, signorina! Signorina, scusi!
”
The urgent male voice broke into Cat Connors’ thoughts and rose above the babel of languages from the tourists crowding Capri’s main square,
La Piazetta
. The man’s voice got closer. Her knowledge of Italian was limited, but it sounded like he wanted a woman’s attention. He couldn’t be talking to her. She kept walking.
Someone touched her arm, stopping her.
With a gasp, she turned around. Her gaze collided with a black T-shirt stretched over a hard, muscled chest. Slowly, she raised her eyes to take in six feet of male hotness. He stared down at her with the hazel eyes of a Roman god.
He must have descended from the heavens, with those chiseled cheekbones, wavy dark blond hair and full lips that promised heavenly delights. He epitomized the kind of gorgeous guy she’d expect to find on this romantic island.
He held out a phone to her. “
Ha perso il suo telefono
?”
She felt in her pants pocket. Empty.
“My phone! Thank you. Where did you find it?” Hoping he spoke English, she took the phone from him.
“It fell out of your pocket.” Speaking perfect English, his deep voice with a hint of lilting accent sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through her.
Clutching the phone, she patted her pocket again. The movement of her hips as she walked must have pushed the phone out. She should have known to secure it better. Her eyes met Mr. Roman God’s. “Thank you again.”
His killer grin made her insides melt like gelato in the hot Italian sun.
He shrugged in that offhand way Italians had perfected. “No problem. You are American?”
“I am.”
Someone shoved against her and she almost lost her balance. Mr. Roman God cupped her elbow, steadying her.
“It’s not every day I have the pleasure of meeting a beautiful American,” he said.
Her beautiful? No one except her mother had ever called her that. “Uh—thank you,” she stammered.
“I would like to buy you a glass of wine.” He studied her with those incredible hazel eyes fringed by thick dark lashes.
This smokin’ guy was picking her up in the middle of Capri’s main square? Men rarely hit on studious, quiet Cat Connors. Must be something in the water here.
Anxiety fueled by shyness compelled Cat to say no. If she was ever to become the new Cat, she had to forge ahead and take chances. Forced to come here on this family trip, she’d decided it would be the catalyst she needed to complete her metamorphosis into a new Cat. She’d finally pull free from the shadows of her glamorous stepsisters and be her own person—a woman who no longer tried to please others but lived her own life. A little harmless flirtation with Mr. Roman God would be the perfect place to start. In this square packed with tourists, she’d be safe. She had time before she had to meet Angelina.
“Okay, I’d like to have a drink with you.”
They sat at an outdoor table in a nearby café that fronted the square. Mr. Roman God said something in rapid Italian to the waiter who brought over a bottle of chilled pinot grigio, opened it, and presented the cork to her companion, who sniffed the cork and nodded that the wine was acceptable. The waiter filled two glasses and shoved the opened bottle into an ice-filled bucket on a stand next to them.
When he left, Mr. Hotness leaned his elbow on the table and raised his glass. “My day has become more interesting.”
She touched her glass with his. “To interesting days.”
He chuckled and sipped his wine. “My name is Alessandro,” he said, setting his glass onto the white tablecloth. “My American friends call me Alex.”
“Nice to meet you, Alex,” she said, sounding very proper and feeling anything
but
. “I’m Caitlyn. Everyone calls me Cat.”
She held out her hand. Instead of shaking it, he raised it to his lips. When he planted a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, his touch sent electricity rocketing up her arm. She pulled free before they spontaneously combusted in front of the hordes of tourists crowding the square.
Damn, his touch was explosive.
She took a big swallow of wine, as if the liquid could quench her sudden thirst for something wild and forbidden that flowed through her veins with the force of a storm off the Gulf of Naples.
“Cat.” He said her name as if it were a scrumptious treat he savored. “The name suits you.” He grabbed the wine bottle and refilled her glass. “Are you enjoying our beautiful island?”
“What’s not to enjoy? It’s paradise.”
He laughed softly.
His easy charm was the ingredient she needed to bolster her confidence. She tilted her head and ran a hand down her thick braid that fell over her shoulder. Interest flared in his eyes. She could lose all her inhibitions in those eyes.
A seductive grin played around his mouth and he lifted his glass in salute. “To your beautiful red hair.”
“It’s not really red. More of a chestnut brown.” Heat started at her neck and spread over her face.
Way to go, Cat. Real sophisticated
. She’d never learned to accept compliments. But then she’d had very few considering most people compared her to her stylish stepmother and stepsisters and found her wanting. No more. The new Cat would appreciate compliments, thank you very much, and show those stepsisters she could play on their rarified turf.
He looked down at her left hand, bare of any rings. “You are alone?”
Smokin’ or not, he was a stranger. She’d be careful. “My family is here too, for my stepsister’s wedding.”
“Family and weddings. They are very important in Italy too. You are not married?”
“No, I’m not.” Considering her fiancé dumped her almost at the altar, she wanted nothing to do with marriage. But she wouldn’t tell Alex any of that. “I’m a chef,” she said instead. “I’m concentrating on my career now. Marriage will have to wait.”
“A chef.
Molto bene
. Very good.”
“Thanks.” Cooking had always been her passion, and she knew she was good. She had no problems accepting compliments on her cooking.
“Where in the States do you live?” he asked.
“San Francisco.”
“I’ve been there several times on business. A beautiful city, but not as beautiful as Capri.”
She laughed. “You’d better not let anyone from San Francisco hear that.”
He pushed aside his glass and leaned closer. “I would like to show you around my island, then you will see how beautiful it is.”
She ran a finger around the rim of her glass. “Thank you for the invitation, but I don’t really know you.”
“I understand. Have dinner with me here tomorrow night? Then we can get to know each other.”
His eyes, his mouth, his charm tempted. “I’m not sure,” she said.
“I’ll put my number into your phone. It will be your choice to call me.”
Like ingredients thrown into a stewpot, her mind jumbled. She wanted to see him again. He could be a gigolo preying on female tourists.
Take a chance, Cat
, a small voice inside her said. As she started to slide her phone to him, it dinged, signaling a text. When she read the text, she gasped and retrieved her purse from under the table.
Holding onto her phone and purse, she stood. “I have to leave, Alex. I’m meeting a friend. She’s taking me shopping. I’m late. She texted to say she’s waiting for me and her car is blocking traffic. Thanks for returning my phone and for the wine.” She was babbling.
Feeling oddly like Cinderella running from the ball, Cat hurried away, winding between the tables.
“Cat, wait!” Alex shouted.
She’d already joined the throngs on
La Piazetta
. She started to glance back to Alex but didn’t give in to the temptation. He’d provided a brief, pleasant distraction. She’d be here for a short time. She’d never see him again. That was okay.
Liar.
*****
Alex sank back onto his chair. He didn’t know the beautiful American’s last name or where she was staying. At one time, he would have gotten her full name and phone number right away. That was in the days when his life was simple. It wasn’t so simple any more.
He studied the wine in his glass as if he could read his fortune there
.
Maybe his luck was changing. Fate had brought Cat to him. Maybe it would bring her back. Her features—bright, animated, without guile—were a balm to his soul. Half his family and most of his friends had abandoned him. He needed a woman like Cat in his life.
He’d spotted her, walking with a bouncy step, as he’d stood by one of the outdoor cafes, his thoughts on his uncertain future. With her fresh-faced innocence, sweet like the flowers that grew in abundance along the square, she stood out among the boisterous, overdressed crowds. Something in him had responded to the wonder on her face as she took in the sights around her. Fate had intervened and plopped her phone down almost in front of him.
Cat radiated a quiet beauty with her high cheekbones and large blue eyes. She didn’t seem to recognize her own allure, unlike so many of the women he knew, who used their beauty to get what they wanted, women who wanted his money and all it would bring them. Like his fiancée, who’d fled when his troubles started.