บททั้งหมดของ CRAVING THE WRONG MAN: DANGEROUS DESIRES BOOK 1: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

Rhaena's POVHe was quiet for a moment, his jaw tightening slightly. "Not a lot to talk about. My dad was always working, my mother left when I was young. Mama Luna raised me more than either of them did.""I'm sorry," I said softly. "That must have been hard."He shrugged. "It was what it was. I survived. And the times I did get to spend with my dad, like these trips to places like Montalcino, those were good. Special."I wanted to ask more, wanted to understand him better, but something about the set of his shoulders told me he didn't want to go deeper into this topic right now.We drove in more comfortable silence for a while, the music and the sound of the engine and the occasional passing car the only sounds. The landscape continued to be breathtaking - rolling hills covered in precisely planted rows of grapevines, their leaves a vibrant green against the golden-brown earth.Finally, after about thirty-five minutes, we crested a hill and there it was - Montalcino.The town sat on

Rhaena's POVAfter we left the vineyard, Alessio drove us toward the center of Montalcino. The town was perched on top of a hill, and as we climbed the narrow, winding roads, the views became more and more spectacular. I could see the Tuscan countryside spreading out below us in every direction - rolling hills covered in vineyards and olive groves, cypress trees standing like sentinels along the horizon, distant farmhouses with their terracotta roofs glowing in the sunlight."There's a parking area near the fortress," Alessio explained as he navigated the tight turns with practiced ease. "We can leave the car there and walk around the town. Everything's pretty close together."He was right. He found a spot in a small parking lot near the medieval fortress that dominated the town, and we got out of the car into the warm Italian sunshine. I handed him back his linen shirt, which I'd been wearing like a shawl since we left the vineyard cellars."Keep it," he said, pushing it back toward

Rhaena's POVWe finished our pasta and the owner brought us dessert without asking - panna cotta with a berry compote, he explained, made by his wife that morning. It was silky smooth and perfectly sweet, the berries providing just the right amount of tartness.While we were eating dessert, sharing bites again without even thinking about it now, I watched Alessio twirl his spoon through the panna cotta with a practiced ease that caught my attention."You look like you know what you're doing with that," I observed.He glanced up at me. "With dessert?""No, I mean... you seem comfortable in the kitchen. Like you actually know how to cook, not just heat things up. Mama Luna must have really taught you more than a few things."He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips."I know you can make delicious pancakes so what else can you make?" I asked, genuinely curious now."Italian basics mostly," he said. "Risotto, a decent tomato sauce, some meat dishes. And pasta - I can make pasta from

Rhaena's POVMy mom's face fell. "Oh, that's right. I completely forgot." She looked at me apologetically. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. We're going to have to take a rain check on dinner.""It's okay, Mom," I said, and I meant it. Though I was also secretly relieved that the pasta lesson was back on."But actually," my mom said, "before you go, Rhaena, can I talk to you for a minute? Privately?"Something in her tone made me slightly nervous. "Sure, of course."She took my hand and led me out of the dining room, through a hallway, and into a smaller sitting room with comfortable chairs and a view of the gardens. She closed the door behind us for privacy."Is everything okay?" I asked, worry creeping into my voice. "Is something wrong with the wedding?""No, no, nothing like that," she assured me quickly, gesturing for me to sit down. She sat in the chair next to mine and took my hands in hers. "I just wanted to check in with you. Really check in.""About what?" I asked, confused."About st

Rhaena's POVI cracked them carefully, letting them drop into the center of the flour volcano. The bright yellow yolks sat there looking almost too perfect to disturb."Add a little olive oil and a pinch of salt," he said, and I followed his instructions, drizzling the oil over the eggs and sprinkling in some salt."Now comes the fun part," Alessio said, moving to stand beside me. "You're going to use a fork to beat the eggs, gradually incorporating the flour from the sides. Start in the center and work your way out."He handed me a fork and I started beating the eggs, watching as they slowly began to mix with the flour. It was messy - flour was getting everywhere, some of the egg threatened to break through the flour walls."It's okay, don't worry about the mess," Alessio said, laughing as I frantically tried to keep everything contained. "That's part of the process. Just keep mixing."Gradually, the eggs and flour came together into a shaggy, rough mixture. When it was too thick to