‘Scusi,’ he excused himself, only to return a minute later. ‘I need to head to the office but I’ll be back by five tonight, sì?’
‘Okay, I’ll see you then.’
He paused, as if he wanted to say something. Then he ended the call.
* * *
Ruby was glad for the distraction of getting everything ready for the dinner party. By the time Michel showed up midafternoon, she’d almost finished her preparations.
They talked through the recipes she’d planned and settled on the timing.
‘Monsieur tells me you’ll be manning the bar tonight?’
‘The idea is to divide my time between the bar and the kitchen. I know I can trust you to hold the fort here?’
‘Of course.’ He peered closer at her. ‘Is everything all right?’
She busied herself placing large chunks of freshly cut salmon in its foil wrappings.
‘It will be when the evening’s over. I always get the jitters at these events.’
His knowing glance told her he hadn’t missed her evasiveness. Thankfully, Paolina entered the kitchen and Ruby sighed with relief.
The planning team arrived at four. After that, deliveries flooded in. Flowers, a DJ and lighting specialists who set up on the terrace.
But the most unexpected delivery came in the form of a couture designer bearing a zipped-up garment bag, which she handed over and promptly departed. The note pinned to the stunning powder-blue floor-length gown was simple—a beautiful gown for a beautiful woman.
Joy burst through her heart, made her smile for the first time that day.
For the job she had to do tonight, it was severely impractical, as were the silver shoes almost the exact shade as Narciso’s eyes, but as she walked into Narciso’s bedroom and hung up the dress she knew she would wear it.
Narciso was late. He arrived barely a half-hour before his guests were due to arrive and walked into the bedroom just as she was putting finishing touches to her upswept hair.
He froze in the doorway, and stared. ‘You look gorgeous, bellissima.’
She turned from the mirror, a cascade of love, trepidation and anxiety smashing through her. How would he take the news of his father’s continued scheming?
Remember where my son inherited his thirst for revenge...
Forcing down the shiver of apprehension, she murmured, ‘Grazie.’
His eyes darkened with pleasure. ‘You need to speak more Italian. Or better still Sicilian. I’ll teach you,’ he said as he shrugged off his jacket and tugged at his tie.
Then he strode to where she stood. Snaking a large hand around her nape, he pulled her in for a long, deep kiss. Then with a groan he stepped back.
‘Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be with you.’
‘Okay.’
‘Dio, I must be growing a conscience, bellissima, since I keep dismissing the idea of calling this party off.’
She forced a laugh. ‘You must be.’
Shaking his head, he entered the bathroom. She stood there until the sound of the shower pulled her from her troubled thoughts.
She was behind the bar, pouring the first of the cocktails into glasses, when he emerged.
The sight of him in a superbly cut grey suit and a blue shirt that matched her dress made her heart slam into her throat. He’d taken a single step towards her when the doorbell rang.
He rolled his eyes dramatically, then his gaze drifted over her in heated promise before he nodded for the butler to answer the door.
For the next two hours, Ruby let her skills take over, serving food that drew several compliments from the dinner guests.
She declined when Narciso invited her to join them at the dinner table. Although his eyes narrowed in displeasure, there was very little he could do about it, much to her relief.
She was preparing a round of after-dinner cocktails when she looked up and gasped.
Giacomo was framed in the penthouse doorway.
Her gaze swung to Narciso; frozen, she watched his head turn and his body tense as he saw his father.
For several seconds, they eyed each other across the room.
Giacomo sauntered in as if he belonged. Several guests, sensing the altered atmosphere, glanced between father and son.
‘Hey, watch it!’
She jerked and looked down to find she’d overfilled a glass and the lime-green cocktail was spilling over the counter.
Setting the shaker down, she grabbed a napkin.
‘Bona sira, Ruby,’ came the mocking voice. ‘How lovely you look.’
Her head snapped up and connected with Giacomo’s steely gaze. Surprise that he hadn’t headed straight for his son held her immobile. Long enough for him to calmly reach across the counter, take her hand and press a kiss on her knuckles.
She tried to snatch her hand away but he held on tight, a triumphant smile playing about his lips. ‘Play along, little one, and all your problems will go away,’ he said in a low voice.