The Italians: Rico, Antonio and Giovanni. Kate Hardy

next three weeks, Ella was busy—more than busy. She spent her time working her way through all the local cafés and sandwich businesses to see if they wanted to stock her cupcakes, talking to managers at function rooms and taking samples of her cakes to see if they’d put her on their recommended supplier lists for celebration cake bakers, planning the launch party for Ella’s Cakes, and making sure that all the invitations were sent out on time.

      When she crawled into bed at night, she should’ve slept like the dead. Except she couldn’t get Rico out of her head. Which made her even crosser with herself. Why was she thinking about a man who’d lied to her? Especially as she couldn’t see a single reason for him to need to lie.

      Yet still she dreamed of him. Every single night. And it was driving her crazy.

      Rico couldn’t get Ella out of his head. He kept telling himself that it was because she was the one who’d ended it and that usually he was the one who called it quits; it was just hurt pride making him feel that way. She wasn’t anything special. He was being an idiot.

      And yet he found himself brooding. He didn’t even sit on his rooftop terrace any more, watching the sun go down and the lights of Rome bloom in the darkness—because all he could see was Ella and the delight on her face as she looked out over Rome.

      He really needed to snap out of it. Focus. It wasn’t as if he had nothing better to do. He had all the details through of The Fountain, a boutique hotel in Bloomsbury; the initial figures stacked up, so all he needed to do was go and see it for himself, see if his gut feel told him it was the right place for Rossi Hotels to expand in London.

      London.

      Where Ella was.

      Maybe he should look her up while he was there. Then he could prove to himself once and for all that what they’d had was nothing out of the ordinary—and he could finally get her out of his head.

      Julia plucked a leaflet from Ella’s hand and replaced it with a glass of wine.

      Ella shook her head. ‘I don’t need this, Ju—’

      ‘Yes, you do. Just one sip,’ Julia said. ‘It’ll help you relax.’

      ‘I’m fine,’ Ella protested.

      ‘I’ve known you since we were ten. I know when you’re panicking,’ Julia said dryly. ‘And you really don’t need to, you know. Everyone’s going to turn up and it’s going to be a raging success.’

      ‘That, or the local ducks are going to be having the biggest party in the world tomorrow morning,’ Ella said gloomily.

      Julia just laughed. ‘The ducks don’t stand a chance. Once people taste your cakes, they’ll be thinking up excuses to have cakes made for them.’

      Ella put the wine down untouched and hugged her friend. ‘Thank you. I really appreciate your support. You know, you’re the sister I never had.’

      ‘You, too.’ Julia returned the hug.

      To her horror, Ella felt tears sting her eyes, and blinked hard. ‘Oh, God. I’ve gone all wet. I’m not going to be able to do this.’

      Julia patted her arm. ‘Of course you are. Think about it. You’ve been working like crazy, totally overdoing things, so it’s not surprising you’re tired and feeling a bit emotional. Today’s a big deal for you. Your dream’s finally coming true. Take a swig of that wine and then a deep breath, and you’ll be fine. And remember that you make the best cakes in the whole wide world.’

      This time, Ella did as her best friend said.

      ‘OK?’ Julia asked gently.

      ‘OK.’ Ella squared her shoulders. ‘Let me go through my list. Wine, soft drinks and glasses, tick. Coffee and tea, tick. Cakes, tick. Business cards on every table, tick. Display book on every table, tick. Extra supplies for filling up plates in the kitchen at the back, tick.’

      ‘Smile, tick,’ Julia added.

      Ella forced herself to smile. ‘Yes.’

      The function room was full; people were chatting and talking and clearly having a great time. Rico noticed that there was a woman refilling the plates with beautiful cupcakes in different colours. Clearly Ella’s launch party was a success and the cakes were going like—well, hot cakes.

      It took him a matter of seconds to locate her. She was at the far side of the room, talking to someone and writing on a pad—or was she sketching? She looked animated, almost glowing with pleasure. A kick of desire went through him. He could remember how to make her glow even more than that …

      Oh, for pity’s sake. It was just sex. He hadn’t slept with anyone since Ella had left Rome; he’d been too busy to date, and this was just a physical reaction to abstinence, he told himself. There was absolutely no reason why his heart should be thumping like this. And he absolutely wasn’t going to give into the temptation to march over to her, sweep her off her feet and kiss her until they were both dizzy. Apart from anything else, it looked as if she was talking to a potential customer. He wasn’t going to barge in and spoil the deal for her. It wouldn’t be fair.

      Maybe some coffee would clear his head and bring his common sense back. He went over to the tables where hot and cold drinks were being served, accepted a mug of coffee from the woman serving, and smiled appreciatively at her when she encouraged him to help himself to some cake.

      He took one of the smaller cakes and the taste exploded in his mouth. Wow. He’d never eaten chocolate cake this good, before. He tried another. The ivory and deep pink two-tone icing turned out to be raspberry, the tartness of the fruit cutting through the sweetness of the icing. And the peach-coloured one was a glorious riot of passion fruit icing on a coconut base.

      He was pretty sure Ella had been a very competent accountant, but she’d been totally wasted in the financial world. Being able to cook like this was a gift, and setting up this business was definitely the right thing for her to do. He ought to back off and leave her be. Except something nagged at him to stay.

      Something dragged Ella’s attention from her client. She glanced up briefly to see what was drawing her, and nearly choked when she saw Rico.

      No, it couldn’t be him. It had to be someone who looked a bit like him. He was hundreds of miles away, in Rome. And why would he come to her launch party, anyway? She hadn’t invited him. And if she’d really meant anything to him—if the time they’d spent together in Rome had been more than just Rico acting a role to amuse himself—then he would’ve got in touch with her before now. The hotel had all her details from her booking. His silence proved what she’d learned so shockingly on that last day: that it had all been some kind of spoiled playboy’s game. He wasn’t interested in her. He’d made that clear. He’d lied to her when there hadn’t been any need to lie.

      But then he caught her eye. Raised his mug. Blew her a kiss.

      And every circuit in her brain felt as if it had just fried.

      This wasn’t fair. Just when she really needed to concentrate, all she could think of was the way that gorgeous mouth had enjoyed every centimetre of her skin, brought her such glorious pleasure. He was breathtaking to look at, and he made her feel like no one else ever had. Which made him incredibly dangerous to her peace of mind.

      She hated the fact that she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. That she still wanted him every bit as much as she’d wanted him in Rome.

      She dropped her pen. Although she knew it made her look clumsy, at least it made her look away from Rico. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not usually this scatty,’ she said apologetically to her client. She forced herself to ignore Rico and concentrate on what she did best, planning and making cakes to delight people. Finally she had all the details of the commission, took a deposit and gave her new client a receipt. She was just putting everything in her briefcase when Rico walked over.

      ‘Ella bellezza,’ he said softly, his voice low and husky; in response all her hormones sat up and begged.

      ‘What