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A kiss, one kiss, was all it had taken to break down the wall she had spent the past year building around her heart.

No. Three weeks of looks that had moved from cold to a sizzling heat. From tight smiles to tender ones. Three weeks of looks and one kiss.

And a little pasta with mushrooms and cream served by a man who looked not like the devil, but Adonis.

After he’d kissed her, he hadn’t said a word. He had simply served her lunch and then walked her back to the restaurant. And that evening, all through the long hours while they cleared and laid the tables for the next day, he didn’t look at her once. She understood that. If he had, if their gazes had met, she’d have crumpled up into a little pile of mush right there on the floor.

But then, at the end of the evening, she waited for him.

Michael said, “If you’re looking for Luc, he’s holed up with Max. It looked as if it was going to be a long one. Can it keep until tomorrow?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

Except that tomorrow, Luc Bellisario was not there.

It was Robert Valentine who broke the news that he’d returned to Italy. “Luc put his plans on hold to help us out over a difficult few weeks. He’ll be a tough act to follow, but....”

She stopped listening.

He’d left without a word. Gone home to his small Italian town by the sea where his father’s shoes were waiting for him. She would have walked out then, but she owed Emma for the chance she’d been given. It wasn’t as if she had to see him. But she kept on looking up, expecting to see him....

Polly gave a week’s notice and for six days she performed like a well-oiled automaton, on the outside at least. She was the perfect waitress. Efficient, calm, invisible. Not an “oops” or a dropped pea. Not much laughter, either. All emotional responses had been shut down. What was there to get emotional about? One kiss. What was that?

Nothing, she told herself and was congratulating herself over how well she was holding everything to together - just this last day to get through - when the restaurant door opened bringing in a rumble of the thunder that had been threatening to bring the Indian summer to an end, a draft of cool air. And something else....

Luc.

When she looked up he was standing there, watching her and six days of perfection came to an end as the tray she was carrying slid from her hands.

Luc was beside her even as Michael moved in smoothly to restore order. Beside her, murmuring softly, reassuringly. “Cara ....forgive me.... I could not speak....” With his arm about her, he swept her into the office, closing the door, held her as she cried out, tried to escape.... “Before I could speak to you I had to talk to my father. Say what I should have told him long ago. That his dreams are not my dreams. That I cannot walk in his shoes. Only then could I come back for you, my Bella Maria.”

“You’re giving it all up?”

“I’m surrendering my father’s dream for one of my own, Polly. A small restaurant overlooking a sheltered bay.” He was so close that she could hardly breathe.

“How did he take it?”

“Philosophically. And my sister is very, very happy.”

“Oh. So, this restaurant....”

“Somewhere full of warmth, life, where the food touches the soul. Is that a dream you could share?”

“What you’re saying,” she said, carefully, “is that you’re looking for a cook?”

“What I’m saying is that I would like you to be my partner.” He took an envelope from his pocket, took out a document. “Here are the deeds.”

She glanced at them, saw the name - Bella Maria.

She was shaking, close to tears. “And if I say no?” she whispered.

“Then I will keep asking you,” he said, “Like this....” He brushed his mouth against hers, melting the bones in her legs so that she was forced to lean into him for support.

“I’m not sure....” she said. Then, he’d kissed her again. “This may take some time.”

“Come to Italy, my Bella Maria,” Luc said, taking her hand, leading her into a new life, a shared dream, “and I’ll take as long as you need.”

The End



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