LITMIR.BIZ

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sighed. “I guess that rules out an affair with your sexy Italian boss.”

      Daniella’s eyes widened. “I can’t have an affair!”

      “I know.” Louisa laughed. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs and see what’s in my suitcases. I have to unpack anyway. I’m sure I have black pants and a white shirt.”

      “Okay.”

      Glad the subject had changed, Daniella walked with Louisa through the massive downstairs to the masterpiece stairway.

      Louisa lovingly caressed the old, worn banister. “I feel like this should be my first project. Sort of like a symbol that I intend to bring this place back to life.”

      “Other people might give the kitchen or bathrooms a priority.”

      Louisa shook her head. “The foyer is the first thing everyone sees when they walk in. I want people to know I’m committed and I’m staying.”

      “I get it.”

      It took ten minutes to find the black pants and white shirt in Louisa’s suitcase, but Dani remained with Louisa another hour to sort through her clothes and hang them in the closet.

      When it was time to leave, she said goodbye to Louisa and headed to the restaurant for the lunch crowd. She stashed her purse on the little shelf of the podium and waited for someone to unlock the door to customers so she could begin seating everyone.

      Rafe himself came out. As he walked to the door, his gaze skimmed over her. Pinpricks of awareness rained down on her. Louisa’s suggestion that he was attracted to her tiptoed into her brain. What would it be like to have this sexy, passionate man attracted to her?

      She shook her head. What the heck was she thinking? He was only looking at her to make sure she had dressed appropriately. He was not attracted to her. Good grief. All they ever did was snipe at each other. That was not attraction.

      Although, standing up to him did warm her blood...

      After opening the door, Rafe strode away without even saying good morning, proving, at least to Dani, that he wasn’t attracted to her. As she seated her first customers, he walked to the windows at the back of the old farmhouse and opened the wooden shutters, revealing the picturesque countryside.

      The odd feeling of destiny brought Daniella up short again. This time she told herself it was simply an acknowledgment that the day was beautiful, the view perfect. There was no such thing as someone “belonging” somewhere. There was only hard work and planning.

      An hour into the lunch shift, a customer called her over and asked to speak with the chef. Fear shuddered through her.

      “Rafe?”

      The older man nodded. “If he’s the chef, yes.”

      She couldn’t even picture the scene if she called Rafe out and this man, a sweet old man with gray hair, blue eyes and a cute little dimple, complained about the food. So she smiled. “Maybe I can help you?”

      “Perhaps. But I would like to speak with the chef.”

      Officially out of options, she smiled and said, “Absolutely.”

      She turned to find Rafe only a few steps away, his eyes narrowed, his lips thin.

      She made her smile as big as she could. “Chef Rafe...” She motioned him over. When he reached her, she politely said, “This gentleman would like to speak with you.”

      The dining room suddenly grew quiet. It seemed that everyone, including Daniella, held their breath.

      Rafe addressed the man. “Yes? What can I do for you? I’m always happy to hear from my customers.”

      His voice wasn’t just calm. It was warm. Dani took a step back. She’d expected him to bark. Instead, he was charming and receptive.

      “This is the best ravioli I’ve ever eaten.” The customer smiled broadly. “I wanted to convey my compliments to the chef personally.”

      Rafe put his hands together as if praying and bowed slightly. “Grazie.”

      “How did you come to pick such a lovely place for a restaurant?”

      “The views mostly,” Rafe said, smiling, and Dani stared at him. Those crazy feelings rolled through her again. When it came to his customers he was humble, genuine. And very, very likable.

      He turned to her and nodded toward the door. “Customers, Daniella?”

      “Yes! Of course!” She pivoted and hurried away to seat the people at the door, her heart thrumming, her nerve endings shimmering. Telling herself she was simply responding to the happy way he chatted with a customer, glad he hadn’t yelled at the poor man and glad everything was going so well, she refused to even consider that her appreciation of his good looks was tipping over into a genuine attraction.

      She was so busy she didn’t hear the rest of Rafe’s conversation with the older couple. When they left, Rafe returned to the kitchen and Daniella went about her work. People arrived, she seated them, the staff served them and Rafe milled about the dining room, talking with customers. They gushed over the scene visible through the back windows. And he laughed.

      He laughed. And the warmth of his love for his customers filled her. But that still didn’t mean she was attracted to him. She appreciated him, yes. Respected him? Absolutely. But even though he was gorgeous, she refused to be attracted to him. Except maybe physically...the man was gorgeous. And having a boyfriend didn’t mean she couldn’t notice good-looking men... Did it?

      When the lunch crowd emptied, and Gio and Zola left, Daniella turned to help Allegra tidy the dining room, but Rafe caught her arm. “Not so fast.”

      The touch of his hand on her biceps sent electricity straight to her heart. Which speeded up and sent a whoosh of heat through her blood.

      Darn it. She was attracted to him.

      But physically. Just physically.

      She turned slowly.

      Bright with anger, his gaze bored into her. “What in the hell did you think you were doing?”

      With electricity careening through her, she pulled in a shaky breath. “When?”

      “When the customer asked to speak with me!” He threw his hands in the air. “Did you think I did not see? I see everything! I heard that man ask to speak with me and heard you suggest that he talk to you.”

      She sucked in a breath to steady herself. “I was trying to head off a disaster.”

      “A disaster? He wanted to compliment the chef and you tried to dissuade him. Did you want the compliment for yourself?”

      She gasped. “No! I was worried he was going to complain about the food.” She took a step closer, now every bit as angry as he was. He was so concerned about his own agenda, he couldn’t even tell when somebody was trying to save his sorry butt. “And that you’d scream at him and the whole dining room would hear.”

      He matched the step she took. “Oh, really? You saw how I spoke to him. I love my customers.”

      She held her ground. Her gaze narrowed on him. Her heart raced. “Yeah, well I know that now, but I didn’t know it when he asked to speak with you.”

      “You overstepped your boundaries.” He took another step, and put them so close her whole body felt energized—

      Oh, no.

      Now she knew what was going on. She didn’t just think Rafe was handsome. She wasn’t just physically attracted to him. She was completely attracted to him. And she wasn’t yelling at him because she was defending herself. She was yelling because it was how he communicated with her. Because he was a stubborn, passionate man, was this how she flirted with him?

      Not at all happy with these feelings, she stepped away from him. Softening

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