Reckless Nights in Rome Read Online Free PDF

got hot Latin looks. And he says Brrrronte in an Italian
accent.”
    “Wait a minute.
I know that face.”
    “What
face?”
    “That face
you’re wearing.” Rosie smacked her hands on the table and leaned
over. Eyes the colour of warm chocolate peered into hers. “Do I
detect a spark of life in the empty expanse of your libido?” Her
eyes went big with a silent question. Then she turned, sliding a
tray of fondant snowdrops and winter roses into a narrow container.
“And don’t huff and puff like that. This is good news.”
    Bronte, not
admitting to anything that might incriminate her, checked her
watch.
    “I feel a break
coming on. We’re ahead of schedule.” Hot air from the ovens filled
her huge kitchen with the sublime scent of warm toffee. “You can
test a muffin. They’re looking good.”
    “How many more
to go?” Rosie sniffed.
    “Four batches
of four trays.”
    “What kind of
icing?”
    “White
chocolate fudge.”
    “You should set
up a business.”
    “Har har,
you’re a riot this morning.”
    “So spill.”
Rosie blew on a muffin from the first batch, her eyes sparkling.
“He drove you home, then what?”
    Bronte sipped
her coffee and inhaled the scent, listening to another pop tune.
Adele rocked the adjacent kitchen.
    She stared
through wide French doors into her garden, grass silver with frost.
Ice glistened on a bird bath. The mortgage she’d taken out for the
re-modelling of the kitchen and new equipment, along with expenses
and salaries didn’t leave much left over, but financially they were
doing well. More than just money was invested into the business.
She’d invested her heart, her soul.
    No matter how
hard things got, she could never, ever give this up.
    “He wants to
buy my home and the land.”
    The previous
night’s conversation returned to her. The Dower House was not for
sale at any price, end of debate. So why did she feel a curl of
anxiety in her stomach? It was how his jaw clenched, she realised,
and how those heavily lashed eyes had narrowed as his fingers
tapped the steering wheel. Yes she mused; Mr Ferranti was not
accustomed to the word no. The memory of his touch made her mouth
dry.
    And she decided
not to worry Rosie with his threat to tear up their contract. If he
did that, he would alienate Alexander. She’d realised last night
that the friendship between the men was a deep one. Nico Ferranti
was full of hot air. They didn’t need Ludlow Hall for business;
they’d been a huge success before it opened. Since money was the
language Nico understood, she would show the arrogant baboon just
how valuable her company was to his bottom line.
    “What did you
tell him?” Rosie wanted to know.
    “To bugger
off.”
    Rosie squeezed
her fingers. “I know there have been times since ... when you’ve
wondered if it’s all been worth it.”
    “I’ve never
regretted starting this business. It’s kept me sane, and hey for
the last six months we’ve been in the black.”
    “It was Oliver
and Lucy’s wedding that did it. The glossy magazine spread of the
super model and her super husband as they cut the cake.” With a
satisfied smile, Rosie popped the rest of her muffin into her
mouth.
    “We did it,
cheers,” Bronte told her as they clinked coffee mugs.
    The sound of
the front door bell made them jump.
    Rosie checked
the time. “I’ll get it. I’m expecting a delivery.”
    Nico pushed his hands
further into the fleece-lined pockets of his battered shearling
jacket and admired his surroundings.
    A miniature
version of Ludlow Hall, with its sweeping driveway and ocean of
manicured lawns, The Dower House could have been plucked out of a
fairy story. His mind raced with thoughts and plans for the future.
The house was the perfect base.
    Even though
Bronte had been the last thing on his mind as he tumbled into sleep
and the first thing on his mind when he awoke, the conversation
with her the previous evening and a good night’s sleep had
energised him this