The Sweetest Seduction, Breakaway Hearts Read Free Page A

time.”
    “Don’t worry, Maureen,” Lia’s mother said, sitting across from his mother. “I’ll make sure she takes a break and sits down at the table for a bit.”
    Adam, however, welcomed the fact Lia would be spending most of the evening in the kitchen. There was no way he’d be able to eat anything if he had a continual hard-on throughout the meal.
    He took a seat next to his mother and inspected the rectangular platter Lia had placed in the center of the table. Rows of bruschetta, olives, thinly sliced meats, and other Italian finger foods filled it from side to side. He held it out so his mother could choose what she wanted before placing a few items on his plate.
    “What are those fried things?” Dan asked when the platter made its way to him.
    “Squash blossoms,” Lia’s mother replied. “It’s a popular antipasto in Italy.”
    Images of a heavy, pasta-laden dinner flashed through Adam’s mind, but the first bite of bruschetta caught him off guard. It was fresh and garlicky with a solid kick of spice at the end. Definitely not the boring Italian fare he’d had before.
    “Like it, Adam?” his mother asked with a grin. “Lia is one of the top chefs in Chicago.”
    Despite the fact this was another one of her obvious set-ups to introduce him to a “nice girl,” perhaps the meal itself would be enjoyable. He reached for a second piece of bruschetta before his brothers took them all. “Very good.”
    As he sampled each item on the platter, he discovered how Lia had taken a traditional Italian dish and added her own twist. The prosciutto-wrapped melon concealed a hidden stick of cucumber inside, and the olives were bathed in citrus-infused oil. “This is fabulous. Which restaurant does she work at?”
    “La Arietta,” her mother answered.
    There was something familiar about that name. Perhaps one of his friends had mentioned it to him in the past, but it was definitely moving onto his list of places to try when he wanted to impress a client.
    The platter emptied faster than he realized, leaving his mouth watering for more. It was the perfect excuse to go into the kitchen and learn more about the chef. He grabbed it and stood. “I’ll go see if she has any more.”
    But the second he laid eyes on her, his tongue grew thick and clumsy. Frustration crawled up his spine. He’d dated models, met with high-ranking politicians, schmoozed with Chicago’s elite for years, and none of them had delivered a blow to his confidence. Yet here he was, struggling to find a way to tell Lia that he enjoyed her food.
    Her back was to him as she stirred something in a pan, her hips swaying as though she were dancing instead of cooking. She’d pulled her hair up into a ponytail, but a few rebellious curls had managed to break free along the nape of her neck. The button-down shirt she’d been wearing earlier was tied around her waist, the underlying tank top allowing him a better view of her smooth, sun-kissed skin. She hummed as she worked, each flick of her spoon releasing the aromas of garlic and fresh herbs into the air.
    She turned around from the stove and froze when she saw him. “Is something wrong?”
    The platter grew heavy in his hands, reminding him of why he’d come in the first place. “I was wondering if you had any more.”
    She grinned and carried her pan to the center island. “If you fill up on the antipasti , you’ll have no room for the prima .”
    Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered that the prima course in Italy usually involved pasta. But the dish she was plating now resembled rice. He came closer to inspect it. “And is this it?”
    She nodded. “ Orzo con verdure estive arrosto .”
    “In English?”
    “Orzo with roasted summer vegetables.” She placed a small hill of the orzo pasta with chunks of summer squash, zucchini, artichoke hearts, asparagus, tomatoes, and mushrooms onto each plate before offering a spoonful to him. “Care to try?”
    “As long as there’s