My Italian Billionaire: A BWWM Italian Billionaire Romance (2 page)

As she cleaned up, he couldn't help but notice how her shirt clung to her body. He appreciated all females in their various forms, but a curvy black woman deserved more than just a passing glance.

And more than just spilled coffee.

"Please, let me try and make this up to you," he said desperately, suddenly worried she had been in a rush to go somewhere and would leave him without him even learning her name.

"It was my fault." She peered up at him through those lashes. No mascara. All natural. He had been with enough women to be able to tell.

"Still. I feel badly for burning you."

"I've been burned before," she said dryly. She lifted an arm sleeve to show him a small burn mark.

"How did that happen?" He touched her arm. Soft. Smooth. Her skin felt like butter, the dark color a stark and lovely contrast to her cream-colored top.

"I'm a cook."

"A cook? I bet you never cook for yourself, am I right?" he asked smoothly.

Her gaze fell to her watch.

"If you're busy now, I understand, Miss…"

"Megan. Megan Harris."

"Hi, Megan. I'm Lucca." He held out his hand.

Her eyes flashed, and he tightened his jaw. She might not be happy with him for not sharing his last name with her, but he didn't want to run the risk of her learning who he was. Not just yet.

Finally, she slid her small hand into his. Although delicate, her handshake was firm, and he held onto her a moment or two longer than was necessary.

People jostled around them on the crowded sidewalk, and he stepped toward her to allow them easier passage.

"Dinner," he pressed. "Tonight or another night?"

"I don't even know you," she protested.

"You know I feel badly about your ruined top." He forced himself to stare into her eyes and not at the way her shirt now adhered to her breasts. Right now, he wasn't a playboy. He was just a guy, and she was just a woman. A woman he hoped wouldn't be like all the others.

"You shouldn't. I bumped into you."

"Why were you so distracted?" he asked.

She shuffled her feet. "I thought I saw… It doesn't matter."

"Oh, a celebrity stalker. I get it." He laughed. The first time he had since learning about his father. It helped to ease the tension in his chest.

"I am not!" But she giggled. "All right. Fine, Lucca. Dinner. How about Chick fil A over on University Place."

He blinked several times. Fast food. And she claimed to be a cook?

"My cousin just started working there, and I want to surprise him." She stared at him. "I'm going to eat there at seven tonight with or without you."

And then she walked away.

He turned around to watch her swaying hips. Whoever this Megan Harris was, she had certainly captured his attention.

Chapter Three: Dinner

Megan changed into and out of tops until she had tried on every single one she owned. Why she cared so much, she didn't know, but that man she had met was gorgeous, and she didn't want to look out of place beside him.

It's not as if we're going to a five-star restaurant. It's just Chick fil A!

She grabbed and settled on a blue v-neck shirt that brightened her skin. A few picks at her hair and she gave up. Her hair was what it was.

Her nerves were all jumbled as she hurried down the street toward the eatery. It's not as if this was even a real date, not that she had time for dating right now. She was way too busy with work to even think about a relationship. That she had the night off tonight was rare as it was, and here she was, spending part of it with a man she didn't know.

A man she wouldn't mind getting to know, she thought, and hoped. Hell, she hardly knew what she wanted anymore. It wasn't easy, her job. Getting respect in the cooking industry as a woman wasn't easy, not if you weren't white or born with a silver spoon in your mouth. She was black and proud of it, and although she had grown up in a modest home, she was struggling to survive in the high-class living that was New York City. Still, she refused to be run out of town.

As long as she didn't get fired…

I'm not going to worry about that right now.

Although they didn't have the crossing sign, a crowd of people rushed out into the street, and she tagged along and cut up the block to Chick fil A. Even with her power walking it, she entered at quarter after seven. She glanced around the crowded establishment, and her heart sank. The tall, dark-haired, amazingly brown-eyed hunk from earlier was nowhere to be seen. Somehow, she had thought him to be the punctual type. Normally, she was, but the last few outfit changes ate up more time than she thought.

Oh well. Just one more disappointment in her life. They were really starting to rack up lately. What with her landlord jacking up her monthly rent to her cat dying last week… It seemed like she couldn't win.

Her gaze swept over the menu. They had to have dessert, right? She needed a pick-me-up.

Order picked out, she got into the second line, so she'd reach the register where her cousin was operating. Derrick's sheepish grin as he begged a customer to be patient with him belied the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He was nervous. Poor guy. His mom, her aunt, worked like a dog at her three part-time jobs, and he had taken the position to try to help her out. Job security for a single black mom just wasn't there.

The other line moved faster, that cashier was efficient, but Megan kept her spot. She was surprised when someone stood behind her. One person received their order and then another. Just two more and she'd be up. Good. She was hungry.

"Blue is my favorite color," a low voice whispered in her ear.

She shivered before she could hide her reaction to his closeness, his breath hot on her skin. She turned her face slightly, startled that he remained so close to her. All she had to do was shift a little more and she could kiss his cheek. "You came," she whispered back.

"I did." Lucca gave her a wide grin. "Why are we whispering?" he asked as he straightened.

Absurdly, she missed his closeness. Ridiculous. She knew nothing about the man. Just because he was beyond hot didn't mean she should fall all over him. Her last boyfriend had been hot. And an ass. She'd kicked his ass to the curb when she realized he'd been stealing from her.

"You started it." She twisted around to see him and shrugged one shoulder.

"What can I say? I like to start things." He flashed that grin again.

"I'm sure that smile gets you lots of things," she said. Belatedly, she realized she could move up in line.

He followed her almost too closely, but his grin died. "I haven't had much reason to smile about lately," he admitted, his voice hushed again, as if he was telling her a secret confession.

"Why? Your last sugar mama run out of money?" she teased.

Lucca winced. "Actually, my father died recently."

She sucked in a breath. "I'm so sorry." Before she thought about it, she reached out and squeezed his arm. Wow, did he have muscles. Firm and tight and… This was so inappropriate for her to be focusing on right now. "I didn't mean…" she stumbled over her words. "I'm sorry for your loss."

He patted her hand on his arm. "You didn't know." A ghost of his grin returned. "I didn't mean to put a damper on things."

"No, ah, I'm glad you told me." She was both sorry for him and glad he had shared. Suddenly, Lucca didn't feel so much like a random stranger anymore.

"Megan! You made it." Derrick grinned then glanced at his older coworker who was helping him. "What can I get you?"

"I'll have the Asian salad."

"The… honey sesame dressing okay?"

"Yes."

His finger hovered above the pad for a long moment before he located the proper key. "Something to drink?"

"Iced tea."

Again with the finger hover dance. "Sweetened or unsweetened?"

"Sweetened."

"Okay, that'll be—"

"You should ask if she wants anything else first," the older coworker cut in. "Never assume the customer is finished ordering."

"Oh, right, sorry. Anything else, Megan?"

"No," she started saying at the same time Lucca said, "Yes."

She glanced at him. Her hand had been reaching for the twenty she had in her pocket.

"Can you double the order please?" Lucca asked.

Derrick stared at him and then at Megan. She nodded. When Lucca stared up at the menu above them, Derrick mouthed, "Boyfriend?"

Megan shrugged. His mom was always trying to hook her up with someone. Maybe now Aunt Kelly would cut her some slack.

Derrick quoted the amount due, and Lucca smiled down at her. "Please let me."

She shook her head. "Half and half."

He frowned. "But it's to make up for your shirt."

"And your spilled coffee." She lifted her chin, not about to give in.

Lucca chuckled. "Fair enough."

It took Derrick some time to figure out how to give them both change, and they found a small table for two in the back. The hot chicken tasted delicious combined with the dressing, and the honey thai almonds and mandarin oranges were a nice touch. They ate mostly in silence, a comfortable one, and Lucca excused himself when he had finished. To her surprise, he hadn't gone to the bathroom. Instead, he came back with two ice creams, one with chocolate toppings, the other strawberry.

He held them out. "Your choice."

No contest. She plucked the strawberry one from his grasp.

His eyebrows rose. "You're sure?"

To answer, she licked it.

His eyes focused on her mouth, and she blushed. "Strawberries are my weakness," she confessed.

"Finally." He licked his ice cream. "I was afraid you'd never share something personal with me, what after I told you about my…"

"I'm afraid I'll get fired." She shoved a large bite into her mouth. Sharing bad news seemed to be their thing.

"Why?" He lowered his cone.

"A customer got really sick from one of my meals."

"How so?" Some vanilla ice cream dripped onto his hand, and his tongue darted out to lick it.

"Huh? Oh, it wasn't my fault, but I do feel bad. I mean, peanut allergies are very serious, but the waitress hadn't told me, she hadn't even told the customer there was peanuts in the dish, and the wait staff is supposed to ask every table about food allergies before taking orders but…"

Even when he frowned, he was too good looking for his own good. He had to have women hanging all over him all the time so why was he here with her? Yeah, the stains in her shirt would be hard to get out, but the shirt wasn't worth much. She'd bought it off the clearance rack.

"Why wouldn't the waitress be the one in jeopardy of losing her job?" he asked.

"Because she's sleeping with our boss." Megan winced and glared at her ice cream. Suddenly, it didn't taste as delicious as the first few bites.

"No offense, but your boss sounds like a moron."

She giggled. "You have no idea. He doesn't have a clear business sense at all. I don't know how he became the owner in the first place."

"Or how the place hasn't gone under." He polished off the last of his cone.

Their time together was drawing to an end, and suddenly, she wished that wasn't the case. Despite being so hot, Lucca was surprisingly easy to talk to.

The last few bites of hers tasted bittersweet, and she crossed her arms. "Well, I guess that's that."

"Did you walk?"

Megan nodded.

"May I… Can I walk you home?"

"Oh, no, that's not necessary."

"Oh, but it is." His piercing eyes stared deeply into hers. "It wouldn't be fair to the rest of the world if I allowed you to plow into another unsuspecting coffee lover."

Another giggle erupted out of her. "Those poor wasted coffee beans. I guess you're right."

She waved to her cousin, but Derrick was too busy to see it. They left the eatery, walking close but not too close. A few other passersby glanced their way.
Wonder if they think I don't belong with the likes of him.
Well, too bad. She was walking beside a fine-looking white man—Italian if she had to guess by his classic beauty, that nose a dead giveaway—and that was that.

They climbed the steps to her apartment, and she stopped in front of 301. She opened her mouth to say that this was her place, but what came out was, "Would you like to come in?"

Chapter Four: Dessert

Megan bit her lower lip as Lucca's eyes darkened. His lips curled into an easy smile. "You're trembling." He brought up his hand, the back of his fingers caressing her cheek.

She closed her eyes at the tender touch. "No, I'm not," she protested.

"I think you're protesting too much."

Her eyes flew open in time to see his face nearing, his lips puckered. Her heart hammered in her chest. He kissed her one cheek then the other, and she wished for another one, and many more.