Regrettably, all it got me was a broken heart. Well, that wasn’t the only thing Ciro gave me?—
“Oh my Gosh. I might cancel my date with Phil for Mr. Gucci, who just walked in.”
Just as I’d said, short attention span.
I ignored Keri and moved to the next table, not bothering to acknowledge the poor sap who’d caught her attention. I had no desire to get sucked into her man drama. That girl had a one-track mind that only revolved around money. She wanted to marry a millionaire, so she didn’t have to work and could live the luxurious life most only saw in movies.Pretty Womancame to mind. At least Keri worked in a swanky bistro, instead of selling her body on the streets to make ends meet.
Mr. Gucci, a name Keri gave every man that appeared to be rich, had better run for his life and hide his wallet.
Stop it, Isla. Don’t be so negative, I scolded myself for being pessimistic.
Our customers were upscale, wealthy patrons. Mr. Gucci could enter the establishment and fall madly in love with Keri. It wasn’t impossible. Just highly unlikely. But perhapsluck would be on her side, and she’d catch lightning in a bottle.
Either way, I wanted nothing to do with her mission.
“Isla?”
Bent over the table, mid-swipe with the towel, my body froze. Goose bumps covered my arms as I felthisintense aura surrounding me.
He’s not here. It’s just your imagination playing tricks on you. He’s not here.
Or could I have been dreaming? I often heard Ciro’s sexy voice whispering naughty things to me, but I never saw his face.
Wake up, Isla! Wake up!
Or perhaps my ears were deceiving me after my mental rambling about Keri. Yeah, that was probably it.
I squeezed my eyes shut, refusing to believe the smooth, cultured, and commanding voice belonged to Ciro. And when I opened them, I’d bet Keri was drooling over the man who had strolled in for a bite to eat. Then again, why would a stranger say my name?
“Isla, do you know this gentleman?” The awe in Keri’s voice made my eyes flash open.
Dammit! I wasn’t dreaming or imagining anything. My young co-worker had no idea how well I knew thisgentleman.I desperately wanted to believe it wasn’t Ciro. It couldn’t be him, right?
I straightened my spine and squared my shoulders before I looked at the man.It’s not him, I told myself one final time, then turned around.
My heart tripped over itself the moment his mahogany-brown eyes connected with mine. There was not an ounce ofsurprise in his dark depths. He expected to see me. Probably even planned our encounter.
Why was the world cruel? Why would the powers that be bring us face to face again?
And I hated how he still affected me after all this time. The confidence and power he exuded made my skin tingle and my ears buzz just like the first time I’d met him.
Ciro Remotti. The love of my life. At my place of work…
His dark hair seemed shorter on the sides—pristinely styled, of course—and his sexy scruff was thicker. I didn’t need to appraise him from top to bottom to know he was dressed to kill in a tailor-made Italian suit. Ciro only wore the finest clothes. He even had a personal stylist.
But I’d found him more attractive on our lazy Sunday mornings, when he sported a black T-shirt, faded jeans, and bare feet.
Our mornings? Yeah, those days had been few and far between.
I gulped, failing miserably at appearing unaffected. Nobody should be so infuriatingly beautiful.
“I do know him, Keri. You can seat him in your section.” I was two steps past Ciro when his hand gripped my wrist. He moved behind me, putting his body flush against mine.
“We need to talk.” His warm breath lingered on my neck for what felt like an eternity. If he kissed me or teased my sensitive skin with his tongue, I might cream my panties.
“Let go of me.” Internally, I trembled with I didn’t know… Desire? Excitement? Fear? Yes,fear.
“Take a break,” he told me in a calm, yet firm voice.
