finish her polite refusal because Matteo raised his hand and halted her.
“You do not have to give me an answer tonight. I have laid my cards on the table as you Americans say. When and if you are ready to commit, cal me.”
Snapping his fingers, Matteo summoned over one of the countless servants at his disposal. Instructing him to fil his champagne glass, Matteo then stood with the glass aloft immediately silencing the group.
“I am honored to have al of you as my guests. I hope you enjoy your stay. May al of your secret desires and even some you didn’t know existed be satisfied this weekend… salud .”
Several choruses of salud drifted around the table fol owed by everyone downing their champagne. Instead of retaking his seat, Matteo slapped his hands together.
“I have a special treat. I’ve arranged for dessert to be served on the rooftop terrace.” A chorus of excitement buzzed throughout the room as they jumped from their seats and fol owed Matteo from the dining room. Yvonne held back to wait for Robbie.
“Final y some time alone. For a minute there, I was thinking Matteo was trying to steal you away from me.” Yvonne’s eyes widened. Robbie had unknowingly hit the nail on the head. “He offered me a position as his VP of International Marketing.”
A low whistle drifted between them. “He skipped mail-room clerk and brought out the big guns. What did you tel him?”
“I didn’t get a chance to tel him anything,” she gushed as they took the stairs. “He told me to take my time and think about it.” Robbie’s mouth dropped open. “You’re going to keep him waiting?”
Yvonne shrugged. “I don’t want to take on anything until we accomplish our goal.”
“This is your dream. What you’ve worked so hard for in graduate school.” Robbie stopped mid-step. “I can’t stand in your way.”
Yvonne took his hand and pulled him behind her. “Stop being so melodramatic. I real y didn’t turn him down. He stopped me before I could. The offer stil stands if and when I’m ready.”
Robbie hooked his arm around her shoulders, impeding their progress. “Promise me that when al of this is over you’l give his offer serious consideration.” When she didn’t say anything, Robbie started to plant raspberry kisses al over her face.
“Promise me,” he said between each blow of hot air.
“I promise!” Yvonne cried. “Just leave me be!”
Robbie didn’t. He only let her go when they cleared the top landing, leading out to a rooftop terrace or more like a green oasis set high above a city dominated by water.
Matteo’s rooftop terrace contained actual grass, potted topiaries and orange trees. There were more than a half a dozen individual groupings of lounge furniture scattered about. The space lighted by Japanese paper lanterns hanging overhead.
In a private alcove backed by a pergola covered with trained grapevines sat a long white-clothed table dotted with candles and dozens of mismatched dining chairs pulled halfway out at an angle. Yvonne breathed in deeply. The smel of orange blossoms was intoxicating.
Matteo tried to accost her again by showing her to a chair next to his own. This time Robbie stayed close by her side.
“What’s wrong?” Yvonne paused to thank the servant as he placed a bowl of orange gelato in front of her. “Afraid Matteo’s going to steal me away for good this time?”
Robbie stopped a passing waiter, grabbed two flutes of champagne and handed one to her. “Of course, especial y when it seems every man in Italy wants you al to himself.”
Chapter Nine
They’d just finished their dessert when an explosion of fireworks rent the night sky, turning it into a menagerie of dark purple, blistering whites and hot red. One after the other, fireworks shot into the Venetian sky, lighting up the street below.
Enthralled with the display overhead, Robbie and Yvonne were unaware of the arrival of another guest. Having just arrived on the last flight from Rome,
“You do not have to give me an answer tonight. I have laid my cards on the table as you Americans say. When and if you are ready to commit, cal me.”
Snapping his fingers, Matteo summoned over one of the countless servants at his disposal. Instructing him to fil his champagne glass, Matteo then stood with the glass aloft immediately silencing the group.
“I am honored to have al of you as my guests. I hope you enjoy your stay. May al of your secret desires and even some you didn’t know existed be satisfied this weekend… salud .”
Several choruses of salud drifted around the table fol owed by everyone downing their champagne. Instead of retaking his seat, Matteo slapped his hands together.
“I have a special treat. I’ve arranged for dessert to be served on the rooftop terrace.” A chorus of excitement buzzed throughout the room as they jumped from their seats and fol owed Matteo from the dining room. Yvonne held back to wait for Robbie.
“Final y some time alone. For a minute there, I was thinking Matteo was trying to steal you away from me.” Yvonne’s eyes widened. Robbie had unknowingly hit the nail on the head. “He offered me a position as his VP of International Marketing.”
A low whistle drifted between them. “He skipped mail-room clerk and brought out the big guns. What did you tel him?”
“I didn’t get a chance to tel him anything,” she gushed as they took the stairs. “He told me to take my time and think about it.” Robbie’s mouth dropped open. “You’re going to keep him waiting?”
Yvonne shrugged. “I don’t want to take on anything until we accomplish our goal.”
“This is your dream. What you’ve worked so hard for in graduate school.” Robbie stopped mid-step. “I can’t stand in your way.”
Yvonne took his hand and pulled him behind her. “Stop being so melodramatic. I real y didn’t turn him down. He stopped me before I could. The offer stil stands if and when I’m ready.”
Robbie hooked his arm around her shoulders, impeding their progress. “Promise me that when al of this is over you’l give his offer serious consideration.” When she didn’t say anything, Robbie started to plant raspberry kisses al over her face.
“Promise me,” he said between each blow of hot air.
“I promise!” Yvonne cried. “Just leave me be!”
Robbie didn’t. He only let her go when they cleared the top landing, leading out to a rooftop terrace or more like a green oasis set high above a city dominated by water.
Matteo’s rooftop terrace contained actual grass, potted topiaries and orange trees. There were more than a half a dozen individual groupings of lounge furniture scattered about. The space lighted by Japanese paper lanterns hanging overhead.
In a private alcove backed by a pergola covered with trained grapevines sat a long white-clothed table dotted with candles and dozens of mismatched dining chairs pulled halfway out at an angle. Yvonne breathed in deeply. The smel of orange blossoms was intoxicating.
Matteo tried to accost her again by showing her to a chair next to his own. This time Robbie stayed close by her side.
“What’s wrong?” Yvonne paused to thank the servant as he placed a bowl of orange gelato in front of her. “Afraid Matteo’s going to steal me away for good this time?”
Robbie stopped a passing waiter, grabbed two flutes of champagne and handed one to her. “Of course, especial y when it seems every man in Italy wants you al to himself.”
Chapter Nine
They’d just finished their dessert when an explosion of fireworks rent the night sky, turning it into a menagerie of dark purple, blistering whites and hot red. One after the other, fireworks shot into the Venetian sky, lighting up the street below.
Enthralled with the display overhead, Robbie and Yvonne were unaware of the arrival of another guest. Having just arrived on the last flight from Rome,
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