Page 20 of London
During her monologue she’d worked like a robot, and was pleasantly surprised to realize the meal was almost ready. She placed the spaghetti in the oven to stay warm then glanced at her watch. She yelped.
“Madre di Dio! It’s half past seven. I have half an hour to get rid of the smell of garlic and onions.”
She scrambled toward the door and ran upstairs to her bedroom. Could she perform a miracle and transform herself from domestic goddess to sex goddess? It wouldn’t be easy, that was for sure.
Showering quickly, she dried her hair while doing her makeup to save time. It wasn’t exactly fashion-magazine worthy, but it would do. She opened her closet door, shoved her way through hanger after hanger, until she settled on a backless, white, knee-length dress, adding pearl earrings to complete the look. Considering her appearance and aroma only minutes ago, she didn’t look half bad. The outfit was simple and elegant, perfect for a quiet dinner at home.
She’d just slid her feet into sling-back sandals when the doorbell rang. No time for second thoughts now.
Rushing downstairs, trying to control her hammering heart, she opened the door, praying she looked composed, not the half-panicked bundle of nerves she felt.
Gerard looked as handsome as ever in midnight blue pants and a white dress shirt, first button undone. The color created a delicious contrast to his tanned neck, and the shirt’s slim fit accentuated his muscled torso, wide shoulders, and toned arms. Her body reacted to him the way a metal shaving reacted to a powerful magnet. Clean-shaven as he was, his eyes seemed greener than ever. She was hungry, and it wasn’t for the food she’d prepared. Her mouth watered.
“I see I chose the perfect flowers.” He handed her a simple, classy bouquet of white roses, his eyes raking her, taking in the thin material of her dress as it flowed down her body, clinging to every curve. “White suits you. You look stunning,” he said, bending to kiss her cheeks.
She turned her head and his warm, soft lips touched the corner of her mouth. Entranced by his nearness, dizzy from his delicious cologne, she moved her head another fraction. Their mouths touched in a kiss that would have been as chaste as the roses between them if it were not for the explosive sexual tension in the air.
Gerard touched her lips with his once more, then pulled away, slowly tracing hers with one finger, as though caressing the petals of an exotic flower. Then he stepped back, breaking the spell.
He noticed Pirata at her feet. Smiling, he bent to stroke the cat who responded with a loud, generous purr.
“Come inside,” Linda urged, grateful her neighbors hadn’t been able to observe her welcome. “Please, go and sit in the living room while I go and put these in water. They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
She headed into the kitchen. When was the last time anyone had given her flowers?
Chapter Six
Linda strolled back into the living room, carrying the vase of roses, and set it on the table in front of the window.
“Would you prefer to eat in the dining room or in the kitchen?” she asked.
She hadn’t set the formal dining table, hoping he would prefer the homier kitchen where they could sit side by side at the island.
“In the kitchen. You don’t have to go all out for me, Linda. I’m just glad to be able to enjoy your company. Do you need help with anything?”
“No. Just with eating. I hope you like garlic.” She laughed, hoping he couldn’t see how nervous she was. “It’s a staple in Italian cooking.”
“As it is in French cuisine. I love it,” he said kissing his joined fingertips and opening his hand as he pulled it away from his lips.
“Good. Everything’s ready. We can eat now.”
Gerard followed her back to the kitchen. Since she was a tidy cook, cleaning as she prepared the food, the room was neat and clean. She opened the drawer and removed the placemats they would use, adding plates, napkins, and cutlery before lighting a cinnamon scented candle to cut the aroma of garlic.
“What do you want to drink?” she asked.
“Whatever you would like is fine with me.”
“Then, will you please open this bottle of Pinot Bianco?” she asked, taking the white wine out of the fridge, and handing him the corkscrew.
Gerard expertly opened the bottle, then poured the wine into crystal glasses. He handed her a glass and raised his own to her.
“To a wonderful evening.” He clinked his glass gently on hers and sipped.
Linda did the same, glad she’d chosen one of her favorite white wines for the occasion. She removed salad plates from the refrigerator and took the garlic bread out of the oven. She drizzled dressing over the Italian leafy green salad.
Indicating Gerard should sit, she took the stool next to his.
“This is delicious,” he said after his first bite. “Did you make the dressing, too?”
