Page 8 of Mafia Kings: Valentino

It was a pity I couldn’t make the pasta from scratch, but that would take more time.

There was just one problem.

“Um… my ride is waiting out by the gate,” I said. “He thought I’d only be in here for half an hour.”

“I’ll have one of our men tell him to go home,” Signora Lombardi said.

“Uh… he might not leave unless I tell him myself.”

Signora Lombardi gave me a tight smile. “Then he can wait.”

I could read between the lines:

Stop bothering me about your little friend.

“Okay,” I said sheepishly.

While Signora Lombardi made a phone call on her cell, I tried a few ingredients and was delighted. The basil was fresh from the garden, and the olive oil was spectacular.

“This tastes like it was just pressed,” I said in wonder.

Signora Lombardi gave me the first hint of a smile. “It’s harvested from the trees on the estate.”

“It’s amazing! By the way, is there any meat?” I asked.

“In the refrigerator.”

After finding some ground beef, I decided to make a nicetagliatelle alla Bolognese,a pasta dish with tomato sauce and beef. Besides the traditional garlic and basil for flavoring, I could use a bit of anise and cloves to really make the sauce pop.

In addition, a simple peasant bread with bits of olive in it would be wonderful fresh from the oven.

And a nicezuccotto,a creamy dessert cake where I could use fresh strawberries as garnish.

Once I figured out where all the pots, pans, and cutlery were, I grabbed an apron and set to work.

Signora Lombardi sat at a nearby breakfast table and worked on a laptop. Occasionally she would glance up and watch me for a moment, then go back to whatever she was doing.

I was in heaven the entire time, doing the thing I loved the most (well, besides sex) in the most beautiful kitchen I’d ever seen. I was alittlenervous at the beginning, but mostly I just enjoyed myself.

About an hour and a half into my cooking, there was a noise as the door opened behind me. I was so into my cooking that I didn’t look up –

Until I heard the sexiest voiceever.

Deep and playful, and smooth as the best red wine you can imagine.

“What smells so good? And who’s this thatlooksso good?”

I turned around in surprise – and gasped.

There stood the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my entire life.

And not just aboylike the guys I dated back home or in Florence, but aman.

He was tall, probably about 6’2”.

He was built, with broad shoulders. He wore a loose-fitting white linen shirt, so I couldn’t see his body incredibly well, but the neck of the shirt was open fairly low –

AndMadonn,what a chest. Sculpted pecs bronzed by the sun, with just the perfect amount of chest hair.

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