The Italian's Forbidden Virgin (Mills & Boon Modern) (Those Notorious Romanos, Book 2) by Carol Marinelli (little red riding hood read aloud .txt) 📕

‘Not together,’ he said.

‘Perhaps by his photo?’

Gian nodded.

‘And I want to change the menu.’ She handed him a sheet of paper she had torn from a pad.

He said nothing as he read through it, for Ariana did all the talking. ‘These were my father’s favourites,’ she said. ‘I thought we could use some produce from his estate...’

‘One moment,’ Gian said. She sat tapping her feet as, suddenly in the midst of this most important meeting, he simply got up and walked out. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said a moment later when he returned. ‘Now, where were we?’

‘I don’t think it should be a solemn night, but if we can acknowledge him in the food and wine...’

She spoke for almost two hours. There was no champagne brought in, just sparkling water, which she took grateful sips of between pouring out ideas. There was no flirting, no reference to what had happened, no alluding to it, just a determination to get this important night right.

‘What about the wording for the invitations?’ Gian said. ‘Mia is technically the host...’

‘No!’ Only then did she flare. ‘We don’t even know if she’s coming.’

‘I’ll work on the wording,’ Gian agreed. ‘Leave Mia to me. I think your ideas are excellent. There’s a lot to do but I agree it has to be perfect. Why don’t we try the dinner menu now?’

‘Now?’ she frowned.

‘I asked Luna to give your menu to my head chef. He is preparing a sample menu...’

She had her dinner invitation.

He never took dates to the hotel’s restaurant, but Ariana wasn’t his date. It was business, Gian told himself as they were shown to his table. It looked out onto the restaurant but was private enough for conversation to take place.

‘I wish I was better dressed,’ Ariana admitted as a huge napkin was placed in her lap. Her clothes were better suited for lunch, or even a gentle lakeside walk, certainly not fine dining in La Fiordelise.

‘You look...’ He hesitated, for he did not tell his business dates they looked stunning or beautiful. ‘Completely fine.’ Gian settled for that, yet it felt as flat as the iced water that was being poured, and as shallow as the bowl in which a waterlily floated. ‘You look stunning,’ Gian admitted. ‘Especially with pink blossom in your hair.’

Ariana laughed and raked a hand through her mane. ‘I was walking by the office; the blossom is out and it’s so beautiful.’

‘And so fleeting.’

Like us, she wanted to say as she dropped a few petals from her hair into the water lily bowl between them. ‘Yes, so fleeting,’ Ariana agreed, ‘but worth it.’

It was the briefest, and the only reference to what they had shared.

The starter was ravioli stuffed with pecorino with a creamy white truffle sauce and it brought a smile to her lips as it was placed on the table and she signalled the waiter to rain pepper upon it.

‘Taste it first,’ he told her.

‘Why?’ she said. ‘If it is cooked to my father’s taste then to my mind it needs more pepper and a little less salt.’ She signalled to the waiter for even more.

‘You love your pepper.’

‘I do! And he loved this pasta so much.’

‘I know,’ Gian told her. ‘It was served on the night La Fiordelise came back to life.’ He put down his fork and though he had never told another living soul the details, if ever there was a time to, it was now. ‘Your father saved La Fiordelise.’

‘Saved it?’

‘Yes. It was practically empty of guests and running on a skeleton staff when my family died.’

She looked up.

‘Papà gave you a loan?’

‘Not as such.’

Ariana frowned.

‘I inherited a disaster,’ Gian said, ‘and, believe me, the banks agreed...’ He hesitated at how much to tell her and decided, for this part of Rafael’s life at least, there was no need for brevity and so as the main course was served he told her what had happened. ‘Your father suggested buying into the business.’

‘Really?’ Ariana hadn’t known that. ‘But he didn’t?’

‘No.’ Gian shook his head. ‘I refused his offer.’

‘Can I ask why?’

‘I prefer to rise or fall alone,’ Gian said. ‘I did not see that the hotel could be saved. Still, not everyone was aware that it was on the brink of going under, and I told your father about a request to host some royalty on their trip to Rome. Top secret, of course...

‘I couldn’t consider it, but your father said it was a chance to turn things around. The Penthouse Suite was still incredible—my parents always kept the best for themselves—and the dining room was, of course, in good shape. And so word got around...’

‘How?’ Ariana frowned. ‘If it was top secret?’

Gian smiled. ‘He told your mother.’ There was a tiny feeling of triumph to see Ariana laugh. ‘Before we knew it, the hotel was at full quota for a certain weekend in February.’

‘Really?’

‘The helicopter brought in the best produce from your father’s estate and the best wines. And my staff worked like they never had before. That’s why now I only hire staff who can work in all areas. I had the chief bartender making up suites. Luna herself got the Penthouse Suite ready...’

‘My goodness.’

‘It was the biggest charade and it went off superbly and La Fiordelise shuddered back to life.’

‘Just like that?’

‘Not just like that,’ Gian corrected. ‘Years of hard work.’

The main course was just as delicious but when it came to dessert, Ariana could not choose from her father’s favourites, which were all being served.

‘I think we choose the two best, and of course ice cream,’ Gian said, ‘though not this.’ He frowned as his silver spoon sliced through a quenelle of ice cream from her menu and pulled a face as he tasted it. ‘Tutti-frutti?’

‘It was his favourite,’ Ariana said. ‘Every summer, in the evening, he would send me to the shop to get a cone for him.’

‘Really?’ Gian checked, and he watched a little