The Italians: Alessandro, Luca & Dizo. Rebecca Winters

has offered the use of his apartment,’ Sophia relayed as Carlo negotiated evening traffic approaching the inner city streets of Milan.

      You’re kidding me. Lily carefully schooled her expression. ‘How kind of him.’

      ‘He doesn’t expect to be in Milan until tomorrow.’

      Please have him stay there overnight. The thought of sharing time and conducting polite conversation wasn’t high on her list of favourite pastimes when she needed a good night’s sleep.

      Perhaps her plea was heeded, for there was no sign of him as she shared an evening meal with Sophia and Carlo … or when she retired to her guest suite.

      Yet for some reason sleep appeared elusive, and despite the comfort of a luxurious bed, she tossed and turned, unable to still an active mind bent on a mental review of Giovanni’s menus, matching ingredients with her own preferred method of preparation, while pondering if her work would meet his rigid standard.

      Oh, give yourself a break, she mentally chastised as she listed her qualifications, experience, knowledge.

       You’ll be fine.

      Sure she would, if only she could get some sleep.

      Except after what seemed an endless amount of time, she threw aside the bedcovers, pulled a silk wrap over cotton sleep trousers and vest top, and made her way quietly downstairs to the kitchen.

      A hot drink, calming meditative thoughts as she viewed the nightscape had to work.

      The hot drink was fine … the meditative thoughts, not so much. As to the nightscape of twinkling street lights vying with coloured neon, the tracery of headlights from moving traffic made for minor distraction.

      ‘Unable to sleep?’

      Lily clutched her cup with both hands in an effort not to spill the remaining contents as she spared a startled glance at the man who moved to stand at her side.

      Every nerve-end in her body sprang into alert as she sought to gather a semblance of calm. ‘You’re supposed to be in London.’

      In the dim light Alessandro seemed taller, broader, somehow. He’d removed his jacket, his tie, and rolled back his shirt-sleeves. The casual look failed to detract from the masculine intensity he managed to exude without effort. ‘I chose to return home.’

      ‘To an empty bed at this late hour?’ The words escaped before she gave them thought.

      ‘Instead of a physically active night in a woman’s arms?’

      Lily’s cheeks filled with warm heat, hopefully not visible in the dim light. ‘If that’s your pleasure,’ she managed with a tinge of wry humour.

      ‘You imagine I bed women indiscriminately, Liliana?’

      His teasing use of her full name ignited something deep inside, a sensual flare that threatened to destroy her peace of mind. Even thinking about his powerful male body engaged in intimacy was enough to liquefy her bones.

      ‘No comment,’ she managed, as if it didn’t matter to her in the slightest, and refused to admit on some deep level that it did.

      His soft chuckle curled round her heart and squeezed a little. ‘Beautiful, is it not?’

      ‘The view?’

      ‘Of course.’

      So why did the unbidden thought occur that it hadn’t been the nightscape to which he’d referred?

      ‘You are nervous of the day ahead?’

      Of course he knew. If Carlo hadn’t relayed the news, then Sophia undoubtedly had.

      ‘A little,’ she said with innate honesty, and sensed him move to stand behind her.

      ‘Maybe this will help.’

      His hands clasped her shoulders and began to knead the tense muscles, working them with an expertise that reefed a soft sigh from her throat.

      It felt good. Dear heaven … so good. She closed her eyes, let her head roll forward, and simply gave in to his ministrations.

       She shouldn’t let him do this … shouldn’t enjoy it so much.

      Another minute, and I’ll move away and bid him ‘goodnight'.

      She did … although it was three minutes, not one.

      And it was she who felt bereft as he trailed light fingers down her cheek as she stood momentarily transfixed before she sought to escape.

      Alessandro watched her with narrowed eyes and reflected what her reaction might have been if he’d pulled her close and taken her mouth on his own … as he’d been strongly tempted to do.

      Lily’s initial reservations were soon dispelled as she was introduced to the kitchen staff, shown where the various cooking implements were located, the contents of the pantry, the cold storeroom … and familiarized herself with the lunch menu.

      Beneath Giovanni’s initial supervision, she prepared, diced, sliced poultry, veal, vegetables and tended to the making of fresh pasta.

      Concentration and attention to detail kept her focused, and she worked with quick diligence, enjoying the adrenalin surge as the restaurant opened its doors for lunch, and the pace increased dramatically as kitchen staff plated up orders, checked, ready to be collected by the waiters and waitresses on duty and served.

      Teamwork at a premium, Lily accorded, discovering Giovanni to be a hard, but fair, taskmaster who didn’t hold back if he declared a dish didn’t reach his standard of perfection.

      Fortunately, to her immense relief, no harsh words were directed at her.

      Once the desserts were plated, the pressure began to ease.

      As the final few clientele departed and the restaurant doors closed, there was time for the ongoing clean-up to restore the kitchen to its former state, a break for kitchen and wait-staff alike, before the need to prepare the evening dinner menu.

      Lily earned a discerning nod of approval from Giovanni, and an introduction to the wait-staff, one of whom was an attractive blonde girl in her early twenties from the UK, named Hannah, whose deep blue eyes twinkled with mischievous humour.

      The break included a light meal, coffee, then it became necessary to work the kitchen in preparation for the dinner patrons.

      Lunch was a walk in the park compared to dinner, which rated among the busiest Lily had experienced in a long time. It reminded her of her sojourn in Paris, with voluble directions uttered by tense kitchen staff when even the slightest delay arose in plating up orders.

      Yet it was familiar territory, one around which she’d structured her life and enjoyed, even if it tended to frazzle the nerves on occasion.

      However the sense of achievement and satisfaction overrode any temporary moments when things went haywire.

      It was late, almost midnight when she removed her apron and cap, and tossed them in the laundry bin.

      She checked her cell-phone and opened a text message alerting a car was waiting outside for her.

      Giovanni approached her as she collected her bag.

      ‘The position is yours. You will alternate between the lunch and dinner shifts. Beginning Monday you’ll be on lunch shift to start with. Start time the same as this morning.’ He paused a moment, then offered a faint smile. ‘You work well.’

      Her heart lifted a little. ‘Thank you.’

       ‘Buona notte. ‘

      Most of the kitchen staff had already left, and Lily lifted a hand to the two who remained before she exited through the side door.

      The sleek car was parked close by and she breathed a sigh of relief as a tall dark