“Would you ladies care to join me for a latesupper?”
“Did you not already eat?” Hélène remindedhim that he had just come from a dinner.
Acker grinned at her. “I prefer this companyto the others.”
“We really must return home,” Genvièveinsisted.
Juliette shot her a look. “No, we do not. Wehad already planned on going to the caffè and I see no reason whyLord Acker cannot join us.”
Genviève stepped forward and leaned in closeto Juliette. “Is this wise?” she whispered.
Juliette looked into her sister’s concernedeyes. “Probably not,” she answered quietly. “But I don’t really seethe harm.”
Genviève sighed and stepped back. “Very well,shall we?”
Acker wasn’t certain if the sisters did notapprove of him or simply did not like him. They clearly did nottrust him. And even though he lusted after Juliette in a way thathe had never wanted another woman, he wasn’t all bad. He couldoffer Juliette so much more than a life of dancing. She would bepampered, have servants, silk gowns and jewels. What woman did notwant those things? He wanted to give her everything he could, hewas just uncertain about how permanent he could make theirrelationship. It was a decision he could not bring himself to makeand had so many matters to consider that it gave him a headache.The only one thing that was certain was that he wantedJuliette.
He escorted the women from the theatre andthe short distance to the same caffè they had supped in earlier.Instead of walking to a table toward the back, as he would havepreferred, Genviève choose an empty table in the center of theroom. They would be surrounded by those from the ballet, many ofwhom he recognized and had arrived ahead of them. It would beimpossible to carry on a private conversation. Not that he cared toshare any secrets or intimate details, Acker simply didn’t likeothers eavesdropping on him. Several people looked in theirdirection, many with speculation. No doubt they would be listeningto everything that was said.
At the next table sat Carlo. He glared atAcker and then turned away. Something would need to be done aboutthe dancer. He and Juliette had been partners for at least the pastthree months, if not longer and if Juliette had an interest in theman, she would not be sitting at the table with Acker.
Acker’s concern was that Carlo would attemptto make Juliette his after he left. It did not sit right with him.He didn’t want anyone else to have Juliette.
The thought startled him. How had he becomeso possessive after such a short time of knowing her?
The servant stopped and placed bread and wineon the table. Acker barely paid attention to the discussion thesisters were having about their hunger and what the caffè wasserving this evening. His mind was too focused on the future. WouldJuliette leave with him? What all could he offer her?
It was far too soon to think about marriage.What of Eleanor? She was to be his bride. Besides, he did not knowJuliette nearly well enough and one should not make such a lifealtering decision with his loins.
“Lontano,” Hélène said.
Acker stared at her. Certainly he hadn’t saidloins out loud. Heat stole into his face. His Italian wasn’tthe best, but she had just said loin, hadn’t she?
“Insalata,” said Genviève.
Loin salad?
“I will have both,” Juliette said to theyoung man standing at the table.
Acker glanced up. They were ordering theirmeal and he had been lost in the world of loins, specificallyJuliette’s, and loin salad certainly brought different images tomind, ones that caused his clothing to become uncomfortable. Afterthis evening he would never be able to think of loin or salad inthe same manner.
The servant was staring at him, apparentlywaiting for him to order. “Niente, grazie.” What Acker wanted wasnot on the menu, but sitting to his right.
The servant nodded and walked away. Ackerlifted the bottle of wine and poured each of the women a glass ofthe burgundy liquid before pouring one for himself. Thank goodnesshe was sitting down and the table hid his erection. He didn’t wantto have to try and explain that it was because of something assimple as loin salad.
“How long will you be staying in Milan?”Genviève questioned as she tore off a piece of bread before bitinginto it.
“I am not sure.” He did know he had to begone within a fortnight, but Acker wasn’t about to reveal that tothe sisters without first speaking with Juliette. Besides, if sheknew he was leaving so soon she might not give him a chance to knowher better.
She nodded. “Then why pursue our sister?”Genviève asked bluntly.
Juliette’s eyes popped open and she glared ather sister. “This is not the time, nor your business,” shehissed.
Acker simply chuckled. “I am an admirer ofJuliette. Once I saw her dance I knew I must meet her. It is shewho has kept me in Milan longer than I anticipated.”
Genviève snorted. Hélène gave her adisapproving look.
“She is not like the dancers you are used toin your London,” Genviève continued.
“How so?” he questioned.
“From what I have heard, they areindiscriminate and whor—,”
“—Genviève,” Juliette cried.
Acker simply chuckled. “It is true, many arethought of in those terms, but not all.” Genviève did not like himand would probably hate him when he took Juliette away, if sheagreed to go. He had to make Juliette want to be with him. Hecouldn’t leave Milan without her, or break from her until he knewthe depth of his feelings, as well as hers. In less than afortnight he would be gone and it wasn’t nearly enough time tosettle on any one decision.
The plates were set before the women. Theloin appeared cooked to perfection and the clear juices ran on theplate when Juliette cut into the meat. The arugula, tomatoes,cheese, olives and peppers in her salad glistened with olive oil.Acker closed his eyes and buried the moan. Not only did loin saladhave a new meaning but now it glistened with warm, succulentjuices.
He lifted the glass of wine to his lips anddrank deeply. He must not look at the food, or think about it, orthe
