His Expectant Lover (3 page)

He tucked her hand onto his arm and led her through the double doors, closing them so it was just the two of them. “You are Andie Knight,” he said, but there wasn’t a trace of an accent. It was almost like he was an American, but his dark looks, black hair, and his perfect use of the Italian language told her that he was Italian.

She pulled her eyes away from him, feeling her cheeks heat up as he led her over to some ugly looking modern chairs and sofa. “Um…I’m just here to deliver this to you,” she explained, lifting the garment bag off of her arm.

He took the bag from her and tossed it onto a chair. “Thank you. I was hoping you would still be in the dress when you delivered it.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant by that statement. “How would I give…” she stopped when she realized what he’d just implied. “Oh,” she whispered, feeling like a fool. He wanted to take the dress off of her. The idea wasn’t as abhorrent as it should be, although she felt her face heat up even more. “Um…well.” She rubbed her hands on her jeans, not sure what to do now. She looked around, trying to come up with something else to say to him, not really wanting this interlude to end, but what else was there to say? She’d accomplished her mission and, by the looks of his building and this office, he was a very important man. “I’ll just…” she gestured towards the doors, “get out of your way then.”

“Don’t go,” he urged, taking her hand again. “Please. Have some coffee with me. Tell me about yourself.”

Andie was overwhelmed and bemused. Men like this simply didn’t approach her. She was the shy one, the geeky one in high school. And normally, her shyness came across as snobby, so most men thought she wasn’t interested.

However, Antonio wasn’t taking no for an answer. Andie didn’t really resist all that much when he took her hand and led her over to the sofa. And yes, it was just as uncomfortable as it looked. She perched on the edge while he sat next to her, his eyes looking down at her with a strange, fascinating light.

“There isn’t much to tell,” she told him nervously. She opened her mouth to say something but froze when the door opened up. The receptionist was pushing in an elaborate coffee cart complete with an espresso machine.

“
Cosa ti piacerebbe?
” she asked with a malicious light in her eyes.

Andie simply stared back at her with no clue what she’d said. The receptionist had just been speaking in English to her so this was an obvious snub.

“That will be all, Fiorella,” Antonio snapped, irritated with the woman for speaking in Italian. The reprimand was apparent in his tone so the blond woman bowed her head and headed back out to her station.

“How do you like your coffee?” he asked, standing up and taking charge of the espresso machine himself.

Andie shook her head. “Oh, no thank you. I don’t drink coffee.”

Antonio’s black eyebrow went up with that. “I thought all models lived off of coffee and champagne,” he teased, efficiently brewing his own cup of espresso.

She shook her head. “I’m not the normal model used in those runway shows,” she said dismissively. “I love food and I don’t drink anything with caffeine.”

“Interesting,” he said as he sat back down with his coffee. “Why is that?”

She shrugged, rubbing her hands against her jeans again. “I have trouble sleeping at night. Eliminating caffeine from my diet sort of helps.”

A dark eyebrow went up as he sat back down next to her. “But not completely?”

“No,” she said, blushing again. It seemed very intimate talking to this man about her sleeping habits. “I’m still up in the middle of the night sometimes, not tired, just awake. And then exhausted the following day because I’ve only slept three or four hours. It’s frustrating, and very painful,” she cringed.

“Perhaps you just need a different bedtime routine,” he suggested and saw the expected blush appear on her soft cheeks once more. She was delightful, he thought. So different from the women he’d dated in the past. He’d become so jaded, he realized, that the women he’d taken to his bed had become so similar that he had trouble remembering details about each one. He suspected that would not be the case with the lovely Andie Knight.

He looked at her curiously, refreshed by her openness and smiling face when most women would be shifting into seduction mode long before now. “And you prefer pizza and wine for dinner?”

Andie laughed, remembering that was what she’d told the blond woman out in the reception area. “Well, not normally. I was irritated by all of your security gates and I haven’t eaten in,” she glanced at her watch, “well, more than sixteen hours. So I’m pretty hungry.” She realized how that sounded, as if she were trying to get him to take her out for a meal and she looked up at him, horrified. “I didn’t mean that…”

Antonio chuckled. “I would be delighted to take you out for a meal. In fact, I know of the best place to get pizza in Milan.”

Andie laughed, charmed by both his expression as well as his confidence. She gathered up her purse once more and stood up. “No, really. I have a plane to catch. I’m not staying in Milan tonight.”

Antonio stood up as well and took her hand, setting the espresso onto the glass coffee table in front of him. “Nonsense. You must try this restaurant. It will spoil you for all other pizza.”

“Well then I can’t go,” she told him firmly but with laughter in her eyes. “I love pizza and if this is the best, then I just can’t do it. I won’t spoil all my other pizza experiences.”

He chuckled, delighted with her. “I must insist,” he said and tucked her arm onto his elbow, already leading her out of the office. “And I will ensure that you arrive home safely. So feel free to miss your flight.”

Andie shook her head. “No really,” she gasped, thinking about the cost of an airplane ticket across the Atlantic. “I can’t do that.”

In response, Antonio turned to his receptionist. “Fiorella, have my pilot standing by to fly Ms. Knight home when she is ready. And call Domenico’s. Tell them to have a table ready.”

He didn’t wait to see if she was following through with his order but turned towards the elevators, which were already standing by. Andie wondered if even mechanical objects adhered to his commands, but she kept that thought to herself.

Out on the street, she felt even more nervous. There were people bustling around in the courtyard, many of them heading home or to some other evening event. But somehow, the world felt more intimate on Antonio’s arm. This man was so large and so virile that she was having trouble breathing with his hand covering hers. And that had nothing to do with the difference in their appearance; his suit looked sleek and impressive, while her jeans were obviously several years old. She wished she had something sophisticated to wear, or a witty remark that would break the tension, but her mind simply wasn’t working properly. She put the blame for that reaction entirely on this man’s broad shoulders.

When he stopped in front of a long, black limousine, she hesitated. Looking up at him, she squinted into the early evening sunshine. “You’re a bit intimidating, you know.”

Antonio was struck by her honesty. Most women would be thrilled to be treated to this kind of service, but this little woman looked almost painfully uncomfortable. Moving closer, he slid a hand down her arm. “I just want to get to know you, Andie. No ulterior motive.”

She looked at him with suspicion and he laughed. “Okay, I’ll admit that you’re a beautiful woman. Will that be enough to get you into the car? I guarantee that this really is the best pizza you’ll ever have.”

Andie laughed, feeling free and crazy. Usually, she was so intent on getting to work and home so she could write that she didn’t have a lot of time for other things. She’d always promised herself that, once she was published, she would take more time for herself.

But here was a man who fascinated her and sent strange tingles throughout her body. He was kind and charming and interested only in her. Andie gave in to the desire to be with him, if only for the experience of the best pizza she’d ever have in her life. “Fine, but I’ll buy the wine,” she told him firmly.

As she ducked into the back of the vehicle, Antonio had to chuckle. From the looks of her jeans and tee-shirt, she didn’t seem like she would be able to afford a bottle of wine from Domenico’s. Not that he would allow her to buy it in any case.

His eyes followed her slender figure, admiring the soft curve of her derriere as she dove into the car. He liked her, he realized. He didn’t know her very well, but he was going to remedy that soon, and from what he’d seen so far, she was…nice! Well, and stunningly beautiful. Normally, those two parts never fit into the same female body.

The restaurant was packed, and people were spilling out onto the sidewalk as they waited for a precious table to open up. Antonio held the door for Andie, but she hesitated. “Why don’t you go on and give them your name and I’ll wait out here for you. It looks like there’s going to be a long wait.”

Antonio smiled slightly and took her hand, pulling her through the doorway. “There won’t be a wait,” he promised.

Sure enough, as soon as they stepped into the cool, dark interior, the owner stepped out from the kitchen and greeted Antonio enthusiastically. They spoke in Italian for several moments while Andie stood slightly behind him, feeling painfully underdressed. “Right this way,” the owner said, breaking through her moment of self-consciousness. He led them through the busy restaurant, up a winding staircase to the second floor, and were immediately seated at one of the tables in the corner. “
E questa tabella va bene?
” the owner asked hopefully. Is this table okay, he asked as Antonio helped Andie to her chair.

“
E perfetta
,” Antonio responded, holding Andie’s chair as she took a seat. “
Grazie Domenico
.”

For the next two hours, Andie sat across from the most amazing man she’d ever met. They talked and laughed, sharing childhood stories. She reveled in his deep voice and the way he listened intently to whatever she might be telling him. The pizza truly was amazing and she devoured two and a half slices, feeling deliciously full as she sipped the delicious wine he’d ordered.

“Come out with me tomorrow,” he said as he walked her out into the cooler night air.

Andie sighed, thinking that she would absolutely love to do just that. “I can’t. I have no place to sleep tonight and I really should check in with the airline and find out when I can get back home.”

“Stay with me,” he told her.

Instantly Andie laughed. “No way,” she came right back, shaking her head even while her stomach did flip flops of excitement at the idea of spending the night with him.

“Okay, then let me get you to a hotel so you can sleep all alone and cold, sleeplessly thinking of me until I come pick you up for sightseeing tomorrow morning.”

Andie laughed again, thinking he was the most delightful man. “No, that wouldn’t be right.”

He moved closer. “I own several hotels,” he told her. “So it isn’t as if I would actually be paying for the room. Does that ease your conscience?” he asked, teasing her about how frugal she was.

Andie thought about that for a moment. If he really did own the hotel, then it would probably be okay, she thought. Because she would only be staying in a room that was already empty for the night. It wasn’t like she’d be taking up someone else’s room who might actually pay for it.

Taking a risk, she gave in, silently cringing at the expense of a return flight home – which she absolutely wouldn’t allow him to pay for. She had no idea what he’d meant about his pilot standing by. Surely the man didn’t have his own plane. “Okay. That sounds really nice.”

Antonio pulled out his phone, dialing a number. He spoke in rapid Italian to someone, even while he was leading her back to the waiting limousine. When they were once again seated inside the dark, luxurious interior, he flipped the phone closed and slid it back into his jacket pocket. “It is done. A suite is ready for you.” He gave the address to the driver who nodded and pulled away from the curb. “So what time can you be ready tomorrow?” he asked.

They had already pulled up to the hotel and he stepped out, offering her his hand. When she took it, he held onto it as they walked through the lobby. The manager greeted Antonio and professionally handed him the room key. They spoke for a few moments in Italian and Antonio nodded a few moments later. Handing her the key, he led her to the elevators of the elegant hotel. “The suite is yours for the entire weekend,” he explained, handing her the room key.

She opened her mouth to try and argue, but he stopped her. “I’m hoping to entice you to spend the weekend exploring the city.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You’re incorrigible,” she told him, but felt that delicious, warm glow burn even brighter.

“You have no idea,” he said and led her to one of the only two doors on the floor after they stepped out of the elevator.

“Invite me inside,” he commanded, taking her into his arms and kissing her cheek, her neck and her ear.

She sighed, wanting to lean against him but afraid of this crazy sensation she was feeling. “I can’t. We barely know each other,” she told him. Her hands were braced on his arms, not sure what to do or say.

He covered her mouth with his and she whimpered with the intense feeling of need that washed over her. His tongue teased her lips until she opened for him and she shivered as his tongue mated with hers. She’d never been kissed like this before. She’d never experienced this longing, this desire to tear a man’s clothes off. But here she was, clutching his jacket like it was some sort of life preserver.