Page 25 of London
The minute they stepped into the house, Pirata greeted them with loud, reproachful caterwauling. Linda bent and picked him up, carrying him into the kitchen.
“I’m sorry, honey. I got so engrossed in what I was doing that I forgot all about your food.” She stroked his head and scratched under his chin. “I’ll give you an extra special treat to make up for it.”
Linda put the cat down, removed a small tin from the cupboard, and opened the moist cat food. She filled Pirata’s bowl, refreshed the water in his dish and carried the meal outside onto the deck. Pirata followed her out into the sunshine.
Walking back into the kitchen, Linda smiled at him.
“What would you like for breakfast?”
“I’m not really all that hungry, but I wouldn’t say no to some of that Crème Brûlée, since you did say you had extra.”
She cocked her head to the side, giving him a look he’d often seen on his mother’s face.
“That’s not exactly a healthy breakfast choice, but if that’s what you want… I don’t know how you stay so fit if this is part of your usual diet.”
“It isn’t,” he admitted. “My secret isn’t what I would call a secret. I work out at the gym a few times a week.” He grinned wickedly. “Don’t I deserve a treat as much as Pirata?”
She laughed, her eyes crinkling with humor. “You most certainly do.”
Removing two desserts from the fridge, she quickly unwrapped and caramelized them as she’d done last night, and then set the dishes on the island. Reaching into the cutlery drawer, she grabbed two spoons and handed him one.
“Thank you. I could get used to all this pampering.”
He walked around behind her and pulled her into his arms, caressing her stomach, then sliding his palms up to cup her breasts. She tensed, reminding him once more that she wasn’t used to this sort of thing.
From what she’d told him, morning-afters weren’t something she’d experienced often—not that he was any expert either. She probably felt awkward right now. In time, he hoped to change that, but for now he needed patience and tenderness.
She turned in his arms and stepped out of his hold.
“Sit down and eat.”
Linda didn’t look into his eyes. Instead her gaze was focused on his bare chest, as if realizing for the first time that he was half-naked. Slightly self-conscious, he dropped onto the stool. Did she like what she saw? Had the sunlight dispelled fantasies she’d woven in the darkness?
One glance at the hungry look on her face reassured him. She was as much in awe of him as he was of her. Despite how crazy it seemed, even after making love to her last night, he wanted her as much if not more—and not just sexually. He wanted this… them together like this, filling him with a happiness he didn’t recognize.
Side by side, they ate the decadent breakfast. Pirata joined them, his stomach now full. He sat in front of the window, his little pink tongue darting in and out as he washed himself thoroughly.
“What are your plans for today?” Linda asked casually.
“After we finish eating, I have to get back to the city and go to the clinic. What about you?”
“I plan to spend the day here. I want to finish your hands. This is a record for me. I don’t think I’ve ever created a sculpture this quickly before,” she said, smiling sheepishly. “Once it’s complete, I’ll take it to Francesco at the gallery—for display only. This piece isn’t for sale. I’ll be coming in with it at the last moment, but I’m sure he won’t complain.”
Gerard’s lips parted in a half-smile. “I’m flattered, Linda… About the sculpture. I don’t even know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just hope you’ll like it when it’s finished.”
“There’s no doubt about that.”
He finished his dessert and raised his head.
“I hate to eat and run, but I just realized I have to go home and change. I showered as you can see, but I don’t think my shirt is wearable.”
She smiled and stood. “Let me see if I can do something about that.”
Once in the bedroom, Linda opened the drapes. The sheets were a tangled mess, resurrecting the memories of the night they’d shared.
She glanced toward the bed, her cheeks reddening as she did. Quickly, she bent and picked up the wrinkled shirt, her skillful fingers now clumsy, her movements awkward.
