Lauro led Celina into a commercial kitchen and closed the door. “This is our test kitchen. We can talk here.”
Celina took in the expanse of white porcelain and gleaming steel and nickel-plated equipment. Windows framed views of the ocean in the distance, and luminous white porcelain tile lined the counters, walls, and floors, giving Celina the sensation of floating inside of a seashell.
Even the cool air, redolent with the rich aroma of chocolate and sweet liqueur, seemed tinged with sea salt, yet this setting, so soothing in its familiarity to her work kitchen in San Francisco, did little to placate the growing frustration she felt surrounding the constant comparison to Lauro’s old girlfriend, who was probably married with children by now.
Or was it the nearness of Lauro, of being alone with him, that made her uneasy, just as it had at Adele’s boutique?
Shrugging off these thoughts, she turned and spied the source of the aroma. On a marble counter sat a small bowl of sea salt for finishing. Next to that was a tray of molded chocolates in assorted shapes. Sea salt sparkled atop each one.
“Our head chef and I have been testing nuanced fruit and liqueur flavor profiles,” Lauro said.
Celina’s nose twitched. “Balancing sweetness or bitterness with sea salt, which also stimulates the taste buds. A nice textural touch, too.”
“That needs a steady hand. Too little, no result. Too much, disaster.” Trailing a finger along her bare wrist, he added, “Much like love.”
“I loved Tony very much,” Celina murmured as heat rose on her neck. And she needed to know what had happened here.
He brushed her arm as he leaned past her, peering at the chocolates. A shiver raised the fine hair on the nape of her neck, and she felt her flush deepen. She imagined her cheeks were the color of the red poppies on her dress.
“I’m glad,” he said, his voice imbued with compassion. “You were happy together?”
As he spoke, she blinked against a growing, long-dormant yearning that seemed to unfold in her like a seedling reaching for the sun.
Celina saw him waiting for her reply. “Very much, though we had our difficulties in the beginning. All of his injuries…they were traumatic for him.”
“I’m glad you were there for him. We were both lucky to have loved him.”
Lauro turned to choose two dark chocolates and handed one to her. “One early morning last week, I walked through a terraced garden over the ocean, peeling a blood orange. It was a Taroco orange, or arancia rossa, brought from Sicily many years ago, its skin thin with a hint of blush, its flesh the color of a setting sun, its sweetness beyond that of any other orange.”
Pursing his lips in remembrance, he went on, his voice rich with reverence and wonder. “The salt air on my lips, combined with the sweet juice, inspired this new effort. Try it for me. I’d love to know what you think.”
Celina brought the dark chocolate-enrobed delicacy to her nose and inhaled, reveling in the juxtaposition of aromas. Biting into it, a complexity of flavors melted across her tongue. The intense aroma of blood orange with its singular sweetness…a bitter edge of dark chocolate with hints of tropical earthiness…a tart explosion of sea salt that intensified every flavor. She licked her fingers, savoring the ganache that had melted, leaving traces on her skin. Smiling, she watched Lauro sweep his tongue over his lips to take in every morsel.
“It’s magnificent,” she said, a strange ache gathering in her chest as she watched him. “An intriguing dichotomy…”
“You are an artist, too, I think.” Lauro perched on a stool and took her hand. Gazing at her slender hand in his, he ran his thumb along her fingers.
A subtle aroma of spiced sandalwood, tinged with sweet vanilla and a trace of chocolate, emanated from his skin. When mingled with his natural scent, the effect was purely masculine, like nothing Celina had ever experienced.
Barely able to contain herself, she slid her hand from his grasp. “Please, don’t.”
Surprise registered on his face. “I don’t mean to anger you.”
“It’s just that…” She heard her voice quiver and hoped he hadn’t noticed. How could she explain how he made her feel? This desire she hadn’t expected, hadn’t sought, but couldn’t deny. Still, it didn’t feel proper.
Not at all.
Yet if she were honest with herself, she had caught herself wondering what his lips would feel like on hers, or how his arms would feel locked around her.
“I understand. I am not Nino.” Lauro stepped behind her and smoothed his hands over her shoulders, kneading the tightness in her neck. “Relax.”
Tony used to do this. Celina fought to maintain her composure. At his touch, she realized how tense she’d felt for so long. After a while, she felt her muscles warming and loosening under his strong hands.
“You were going to tell me about Isabella.”
“I will. But at the moment, you and these knots need more attention.”
The heat from his hands coursed through her body, filling her with an indescribable sensation that should have concerned her, but instead, she sank into the feeling, and soon found herself welcoming the reprieve. Celina dragged her eyelids closed. Just this once, she promised herself. No one else was here, and she needed to feel something other than the oppressive cloak of mourning that had shrouded her shoulders since Tony’s death. Every stroke peeled back the layers of misery, lifting her into another, brighter, dimension of life.
Love. It felt a lot like love.
Arching her neck to one side, she noticed how Lauro followed her movement. Slipping beneath the softly draped collar of her dress, his palms caressed her neck, his fingers threaded through her hair. It had been months since she’d been comforted like this, touched like this. His rhythmic breath was soft on her ear, and her muscles were as fluid as warm ganache.
As he shifted to the other side of her neck, more tension melted away. Taking his time, he pressed his thumbs at various points along the nape of her neck. “The line of your neck, your shoulders…exquisite,” he murmured.
His melodic, baritone voice reverberated to the depths of her heart, warming the barren chamber left cold so many months ago. A moan of remembrance, of longing, escaped her lips.
“Your essence glows from your heart,” he whispered, stroking her neck and transporting her to a realm where softness and strength entwined.
Warmth from the energy he’d released in her body welled up inside her and poured from her in waves. Once started, she never wanted this life force to stop again, for next time, it would still her heart. There was only one way to ensure that it never did.
She turned into his hand, pressing her lips first to his palm, then pulling him toward her, now arching against him, and at last finding the softness of his mouth. Testing the full lips that had held her gaze so many times, she tasted the lingering blood orange and chocolate on his lips, like nothing she had ever tasted before.
At once, his movements stilled, waiting for her to go on. She hesitated only a moment, feeling his heartbeat thudding in response, before pressing on and taking in the fullness of a kiss that enveloped them both in its soaring intensity.
Freed of the shackles of mourning that had restrained her expression, she framed his face in her hands, then threaded her arms around him. The weight of his body pressing against hers was glorious and left her astounded. This feeling, this desire, was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and she sank into his embrace, deepening their kiss, never wanting to leave his arms.
Groaning with desire, Lauro lifted her to a marble counter.
The heat of her thighs sizzled through her thin dress onto the cool slab, fogging her brain and obscuring all reason. She yielded to her desire for this exquisite man, who stood before her wanting only to please her and soothe her.
She wanted all of him. She ran her hands over his bronzed face, exploring the fine breadth of his brow, the arched black eyebrows angled like raven’s wings, the high cheekbones that balanced a profoundly dimpled chin. He was, she imagined, like an artist’s rendering of a Roman god, but the light in his eyes outshone his beauty. It was as if her soul was reflected in his gaze.
“Amore mio, anima mia.” Murmuring her name between her kisses, Lauro uttered words she’d never thought she’d hear again. “Quanto ti amo.”
As they devoured each other, a power stronger than their will seized them, and it was as if destiny had reached beyond borders, beyond calamity, to join them in a joyous union neither could have ever imagined.
The click of an opening door sounded behind them, followed by a woman’s soft exclamation. “Mi dispiace, perdonami.”
Celina pulled away from Lauro to put distance between them, but she realized it was fruitless. They’d been caught like a couple of students making out in school.
“You have a telephone call from London,” the woman said. “It sounds urgent.”
Lauro held fast to Celina’s hand, reassuring her. “I’ll be right there, Mariela.”
Glancing over her shoulder, Celina caught the gaze of a young woman who was furtively attempting to close the door while also trying to catch a glimpse of who her boss was with. The woman smiled shyly at her.
After the door closed, Lauro let out a breath and kissed her forehead. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been caught kissing a girl.” He drew a handkerchief from his jacket and handed it to her. “I think you might need to freshen up.”
“You, too.” She wiped her red lipstick from his mouth and smoothed his hair back into place, while he adjusted his jacket. “I hope you don’t think I’m always like that,” she added. “I got carried away. Maybe we shouldn’t…”
“I was surprised, but that doesn’t mean this isn’t real.” Taking the handkerchief from her, he dabbed her lips, then kissed her lightly again. “I’ve never felt like this.” He grinned. “I have burned inside for you. I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I met you.”
“You certainly fooled me.” While she was amused now at how he’d hidden such feelings behind a sullen exterior, his actions had caused her great anxiety. She lowered her eyes in a coy manner. “Any plans to make it up to me?”
“This is only the beginning.” Lauro glowed with such pleasure, his face lit with love.
As she imagined the pleasures in their future, a smile danced on her lips.
“Come with me to my office while I take this call,” Lauro said, offering her his hand. As he did, a shadow of concern crossed his face. “There’s also something you should know about.”