Free Catering to the Italian Playboy by Tamelia Tumlin

all.”
    “If you say so.” Felicity’s brown eyes softened. “But the longer you deny it the harder it’s going to be. You may as well just admit it. You’ve got the hots for the hunky Italian stud and it may even be worse than that. I think you’re falling for him.”
    Falling for him?
    Max?
    The idea was preposterous. He was just Alex’s biological father. That’s all. She wasn’t actually falling for him.
    Was she?
    Felicity slid off the stool. “What is it you’re always saying? Time to deal with it?”
    “Roll with it,” Sophie murmured. Oh, God! She couldn’t be falling for Max. He was just like her father. He had disappointment and heartbreak written all over him. Sophie shuddered. He’d ruin her life like her father had ruined her mother’s. He was a playboy for Pete’s sake. She couldn’t be falling for him. She just couldn’t. Sophie clenched her fist so hard her short French-tipped nails dug into her palm.
    Besides he’d made it perfectly clear he didn’t do long-term relationships and marriage was not in his vocabulary. Felicity was wrong. She wasn’t falling for Max.
    She would have to be three degrees past stupid to do such a thing.
    “That’s the saying.” Felicity snapped her fingers. “We’ll Soph, I hate to be the one to tell you, but it’s time for you to roll with it.” Felicity’s grin widened. “And I’d start by getting horizontal with McSexy PDQ.”
    * * *
     
    The Venetian room was exactly as Sophie had imagined. Elegant and sophisticated with a touch of Italian flair. Large cut-crystal chandeliers hanging from the vaulted ceiling softly lit the charming spacious room. Intimate alcoves invited cozy romantic interludes while the dining area offered large gathering appeal. Old World accents adorned exquisite bone-ivory walls and blended brilliantly with the muted wine and gold tones. Situated along the back wall was a small-scale octagonal water fountain with a bronze statue of Neptune standing proudly on a pedestal in the center of the small reflecting pool.
    Sophie ran her hand along the hard sleek marble fountain. The sound of trickling water echoed through the room, and this time the sound settled over her like a soothing blanket.
    Kind of gives new meaning to spare no expense. S he wondered how much this little gem set Max back.
    Like her father, Max didn’t seem to mind flaunting his wealth. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. Her father had always used money to impress. Usually to impress a woman.
    “I see you found the right room this time.” Her skin prickled at the velvet, thickly accented voice behind her.
    Sophie turned to find Max in the doorway watching her with amusement.
    “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she murmured. “It’s beautiful.” So was he in his obviously custom-made Italian suit, white dress shirt and black tie. Sophie swallowed hard and hoped she wasn’t gaping.
    “I’m glad you like it. I had the room designed after my favorite restaurant in Venice and the Fontana di Nettuno in Bologna. Two of my favorite places in the world. In the Old Country the food is superb, the atmosphere is unbelievable and the hospitality is like none you’ve ever seen before.” Two winged brows arched questioningly. “Have you ever been to Italy?”
    Sophie shook her head as he crossed the room to join her in front of the fountain. “Sadly, I must admit I’ve never been out of the United States. New York is as close to my big adventure as I could get.” She didn’t bother to add she came here six years ago from Los Angeles hoping to blend in with the million plus people inhabiting the Big Apple so her father would never find her. She’d even managed – with the help of a friend who’d used his FBI credentials – to change her social security number so she wouldn’t be traced.
    “Pity. European countries are most hospitable and rich in fascinating history. Take for example Neptune.” He reached over her shoulder and pointed