The Wedding Ring 4: Fiance for Hire by Pamela Burford

Author:Pamela Burford [Burford, Pamela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Harlequin Temptation
Published: 2011-10-22T19:39:28+00:00

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Chapter 8

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"You like the zabaglione?"

Amanda chewed back a grin watching Luisa Rossi, the ninety-three-year-old, black-clad matriarch of Charli's family, hover over Nick, armed with a bowl and serving spoon.

Nick smiled up at the old woman. "The zabaglione is wonderful, Mrs. Rossi! I've had two servings."

"Good boy. You have more." She started to ladle another helping into his dessert goblet

He tried to wave her off, to no avail. "It's delicious," he said, "really, but I'm much too full…" He gave up, eyeing the huge mound of frothy, pale zabaglione that Mrs. Rossi had deposited in his goblet.

With her free hand, she patted his cheek. "It's light. You eat more. Keep you big and strong. Grant!" Abandoning Nick, she turned her attention to her granddaughter's husband. "You like the zabaglione?"

Amanda sat on one side of Nick at the Rossis' long dining table, Charli on the other. Charli leaned toward him and said, "You're too polite, Nick. She'll keep feeding you till we have to roll you out of here."

It was December 24 and the entire sprawling Rossi clan, plus assorted friends and neighbors, had convened at the home of Charli's parents for a traditional Italian Christmas Eve dinner, heavy on the seafood. Following a feast that included stuffed squid braised in white wine, shellfish salad, baked striped bass, cold trout in orange marinade, sliced pasta roll with spinach filling, molded risotto, and Grandma Rossi's famous gnocchi verdi, the Rossi women brought out dessert: chocolate layer cake flavored with rum and coffee, apple fritters, macerated fruit, and the endless zabaglione. Plus gallons of hot, strong espresso and cappuccino.

Nick leaned back in his chair with a little groan. Amanda patted his shoulder. "I tried to tell you to pace yourself."

Having spent a good part of the past quarter century as a guest in this house, Amanda had long ago learned to do just that. No matter how much food Charli's mother or grandmother piled onto her plate, no matter how good everything tasted—and it was always heavenly—she forced herself to eat small bites and set down her fork between them. It was just too much food.

Nick, however, had failed to heed her advice. His eyes had popped at the mouthwatering spread and he'd dug in with gusto. Now, as he stared balefully at the zabaglione before him, Amanda decided to take pity.

"Come on." Rising, she picked up their espresso cups. "Let's find a quiet place to digest."

The cozy living room, a study in floral chintz, was currently dominated by an enormous artificial Christmas tree, groaning under too many glittery ornaments, garlands and tinsel, and hundreds of colored blinking lights. Amanda and Nick settled on the chintz-covered love seat and were soon joined by Charli, Raven, Sunny and their husbands. The other guests were dispersed throughout the small house: the men in the den watching a football-highlights program on ESPN, the women in the kitchen washing dishes and gossiping, and the kids playing Ping-Pong and board games in the basement playroom.

Sunny snuggled on

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