The Italian's Chosen Wife (Harlequin Presents #2698)

'Meghan, there's someone here to see you.'Meghan Selby struggled against the knot in her apron strings and sighed tiredly.'Please tell me it's not Paulo,' she said, as the other waitress, Carla, placed a stack of dirty plates on the counter.'Who?''My landlord.'Carla wrinkled her nose. 'What does he look like?''Short, fat, greasy-haired.' She suppressed a shudder.'Why would he come here?' Carla asked, curiosity evident in her eyes, and Meghan shrugged evasively.'Who knows? But I don't know many other people in this town.''Well, it's certainly not him.' Carla's efficient fingers went to work on the knot. 'This man is tall, built, wavy-haired and asking to see you.'She released the untangled strings and grinned. 'He's gorgeous, actually. Is there something--or someone--you're not telling me about?''I wish.' Meghan slipped off her apron with a quick, grateful smile. 'It's probably just someone who's lost his wallet.'Carla raised her eyebrows. 'Why wouldn't he askAngelo, then?'She shrugged. The truth was, she'd no idea why a strange man would ask for her, and she didn't really want to know. She didn't want to attract attention from any men, strange or familiar. The sooner she dealt with the one waiting outside the better.She'd been waitressing in Spoleto for six weeks, and she knew instinctively it was time to move on. She enjoyed Carla's friendship, and Angelo, who owned the trattoria, was like a doting uncle. She'd made a few friends in town, but she felt the inexorable need to shake the dust from her feet before the money ran out, before anyone got too close. Before her past caught up with her.'I'll see you tomorrow?' Carla queried, and Meghan pretended not to hear. Best not to make any promises.'I'd better go and see about my mystery man,' she joked, and Carla laughed.'I can't wait to hear all about it.'A quick glance in the bar's mirror revealed a stain on her shirt, and her hair, which had been in an almost sleek chignon this morning, was now a flyaway tangle.'You look gorgeous, cara.'Angelo, sixty-three years old and full of spicy humour, grinned at her. 'Got a date?''Nope,' Meghan replied, trying for a breezy smile. She didn't plan on having any dates for a long time. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear--not that it did much to help.'See you tomorrow.'She nodded, still making no promises, and went outside.The man waiting under the red and white striped awning of Trattoria di Angelo was striking even from a distance. He wore a charcoal-grey suit, excellently cut, his hands thrust into the pockets of his trousers, stretching the cloth of his jacket against an impressive pair of shoulders.He looked up as she approached, navy eyes clashing with hers. The sheer force of those eyes--the power, the knowledge in their midnight depths--made her take an involuntary step backwards even as her heart stumbled in beat.She recognised him, of course, as the man who'd dined in the trattoria earlier. Someone important in business, or so Angelo's significant look had implied when he'd asked her to wait on them.She remembered the way the man had looked at her earlier that afternoon, his eyes blazing into hers. Searing, branding.Knowing.As if he knew who she was. What she was.That wasn't possible, Meghan reassured herself, and yet one look from beneath those dark, frowning brows told her this man had summed her up--and dismissed her--in a matter of seconds.Opinions, impressions already formed, and they hadn't exchanged a word.She straightened her shoulders, her expression hardening as a matter of instinct and self-preservation. She stopped a few feet from where he paced restlessly on the cobbled pavement.'You wanted to see me?''Alessandro di Agnio,' he introduced himself brusquely, and thrust one hand out for her to shake.Meghan inclined her head in introduction, resisting the impulse&Hewitt, Kate is the author of 'The Italian's Chosen Wife (Harlequin Presents #2698)', published 2008 under ISBN 9780373126989 and ISBN 0373126980.