Page 5 of Hers to Love
She only smiled, the light in her eyes dimming. “I’m looking forward to working here in Italy. Must be exciting for you! How long have you been based here?”
“A year,” he said glumly.
“Oh…I—”
“Don’t worry about it. Are you hungry? Let’s go to lunch. Pasta? Pizza?”
Kori’s smile returned. “Pasta. I can’t wait to eat it.”
“Good. You’ll love it here. Everything is so different when it’s fresh and made from traditional recipes that aren’t unique to chain restaurants,” he said dryly.
Kori laughed. A light musical sound that had Marshall’s eyes on her again. She seemed level-headed and easy to get along with. And not once had she tried to touch him. He looked away with a grunt that he half-covered up with a cough. Kori would probably be romanced by another Italian model soon enough, and then she would be pregnant and leaving him.
Women always left. And he was too old for her anyway.
They settled in their seats at a small family-owned restaurant, halfway up an alley about a quarter mile from the hotel. The driver took her luggage to the hotel to have it delivered to her room. Marshall hoped she would be happy in a hotel. It had all updated amenities, with top-of-the-line kitchen appliances, and a full satellite television package. Even the décor made it feel a touch more homely.
“I happened upon this restaurant the first night I arrived,” Marshall said, after ordering their drinks in Italian. He caught Kori’s glance of respect for his use of the language. It made him feel…worthy, for some reason.
Kori looked around in awe. “It’s gorgeous, sir. I’m really excited to try the food.” She picked up her menu, and her eyes narrowed.
Marshall suppressed a laugh. “You’ll learn the language in no time. And this ‘sir’ business…”
Her eyes met his, her expression anxious. “Did I say something wrong?”
He smiled. “Yes. It’s Marshall. My assistants don’t call me ‘sir.’ If you’re handling my laundry, then you can call me by my first name.”
Kori leaned back. “Your laundry? You expect me to wash—”
“Dry cleaning,” Marshall said flatly. When she closed her eyes, he laughed. “Sorry. Did you think I’d want you to wash my underwear? What year is this?”
Kori shook her head. “I apologize, sir—Marshall!—I… It’s been a long flight.”
His eyes smiled at her over his menu. “Sure. Blame it on the flight.”
Did she blush? He couldn’t tell by her coloring, and the outdoor canopy shadowed most of her face. She did let out a breath and fanned herself briefly with the menu. He took that as a sign that she was too warm—and that he was the cause. He sat a little straighter.
“I knew what you meant, honest.”
Marshall fought a grin. “Have you handled dry-cleaning before?”
“Yes,” she said in a rush. “Of course. It’s not an issue. I can get that done, no problem.”
“I believe you.” Her gaze briefly met his, and he couldn’t help but wink. She ducked behind the menu, but not before he caught the corners of her mouth lift.
“What’s good here? I could eat anything.”
“Great. Their rigatoni is amazing, especially if you want to be in a coma for at least seven hours. And their Fiorentina steak made me moan so loudly people thought something was wrong with me.”
Kori chuckled. “Then I’ll have that. Sounds incredible.”
He kept a cheeky comment to himself, surprised that he would want to hear her vocal reaction to the steak.
When the waiter returned, Marshall again ordered for them. “You don’t mind, do you? I’m never really sure with women.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay. I don’t know the language beyond how to ask for directions to the hotel and bathroom.” She shrugged, a sheepish grin on her face. “That was all I could get through on my phone’s language app before I passed out on the plane. Was more tired than I thought.”
“Mm-hmm. Wasn’t it the wine?”
