It was what had led her to her flight to Italy and tour of Tuscany, and ultimately to Draco Sandrelli, where she’d promptly fallen under his seductive spell.
Yes, he was comfort sex all right. Totally addictive, mind-blowingly generous comfort sex. And just what she’d needed to rebuild her flagging self-esteem. Nothing more.
She shoved herself off the wall and carried on through the kitchen, mentally checking off what she needed to do before returning to Carson’s and preparing for her night’s clientele. She was relieved to see her personal tools of the trade had been neatly packed back into the case she’d brought them in—a quick check ensured everything was where it should be. There was nothing further for her to do. The casual crew she’d hired to work the reception would complete the cleanup and return the crockery to the restaurant in a couple of hours’ time.
Blair smoothed her hands over her uniform, the tailored, crisp short-sleeved white blouse and black skirt which neatly hugged her slim hips, drawing strength from the familiarity of its texture.
She hitched the box against her hip and carried it through the kitchen to the back door and walked around on the graveled drive to where she’d parked her station wagon. She eyed the paint work on her old workhorse with a critical eye. If she hadn’t taken the trip to Tuscany she could have replaced old Gertie here with a new vehicle. But if she’d done that she would have remained a victim to Rhys and Alicia’s perfidy, instead of learning more about the woman she could be. About the woman she had been.
And it had been that very discovery that had taught Blair she couldn’t have it all. She wasn’t the kind of person who could develop an award-winning business and be a devoted life partner to anyone. No. She was happy with her decision. Work would be her life for now. And as for Draco, well, everyone was entitled to a “Draco” in their life at one time or another, she rationalized. The intensity of their affair had burned so bright and fierce, it would have totally consumed her had she stayed any longer with him. That one certain truth had made her put everything into perspective. She’d seen it happen to her father over and over, each time destroying his inner self a little more, and she’d sworn she would never succumb to such obsession.
Her wake-up call had come one morning as she’d stirred in Draco’s arms, their sheets in a tangle about their naked, sated bodies, and she realized that she hadn’t so much as thought about Carson’s in three whole days. The realization was sobering. She’d embraced her affair with Draco with the level of passion she usually reserved solely for her work.
No, there definitely wasn’t room for both a grand love and a career in her life. Her work was everything. Its success was what defined her, not something as ephemeral as physical attraction between consenting adults.
Blair had risen from their bed and packed immediately, turning a deaf ear to Draco’s enticement to stay longer. As sinfully delightful as her time with Draco had been, it wasn’t the kind of temptation one could build a future on. There was no security in incendiary attraction. She knew that from both her father’s painful past and her own.
There was only one thing she wanted right now, and that was to see Carson’s make the five-star review page of Fine Dining magazine. It had been her father’s dream, until ill health had forced him to hand the reins of the restaurant over to Blair as he reluctantly settled into early retirement. Now it was her dream. One she thought she’d achieve with Rhys and Alicia by her side. But she could do it on her own. Carson’s would become Auckland’s leading restaurant. And she’d forget all about Draco Sandrelli.
Draco hesitated outside the door to the kitchen. He’d prowled the corridor in frustration, after finding no sign of Blair. She had to be in here. Unconsciously, he straightened his shoulders. They needed to talk and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. When Blair had left his bed that morning he had been prepared to move mountains to get her to stay. It had only been the urgent call to his parents’ home, situated a few kilometers away within the Sandrelli estate, that had stopped him. Of course, by the time he’d returned from his father’s sickbed, Blair had left the palazzo, leaving no forwarding address.
Seeing her here today had taken him by surprise, but he wasn’t the kind of man who looked a gift horse in the mouth. This was a second chance. The magnetism between them had been instant, and he knew better than most that that kind of draw did not happen between couples every lifetime. Too many people settled for what was expected of them—for second best. He’d done that very thing once, out of honor and respect for his family and his dead brother, but the result had been catastrophic. He would not do that again.