As she worked, she began to realize why he had such stamina. He had to. In cooking for a living the way Franconi cooked for a living, he used as much energy as any athlete did. By the time the pasta had passed his inspection, her shoulder muscles ached the way they did after a brisk set of tennis.

Blowing the hair out of her eyes and mopping away sweat, Juliet turned to him. “What now?”

“Now you cook the pasta.”

She tried not to grumble as she poured water into a Dutch oven and set it on to boil.

“One tablespoon salt,” Carlo instructed.

“One tablespoon salt,” she muttered and poured it in. When she turned around, he handed her a glass of wine.

“Until it boils, you relax.”

“Can I turn down the heat?”

He laughed and kissed her, then decided it was only right to kiss her again. She smelled like heaven. “I like you in white.” He dusted flour from her nose. “You’re a messy cook, my love, but a stunning one.”

It was easy to forget the noisy, bustling kitchen. “Cook?” A bit primly, she adjusted her hat. “Isn’t it chef?”

He kissed her again. “Don’t get cocky. One linguini doesn’t make a chef.”

She barely finished her wine when he put her back to work. “Put one end of the linguini in the water. Yes, just so. Now, as it softens coil them in. Careful. Yes, yes, you have a nice touch. A bit more patience and I might take you on in my restaurant.”

“No, thanks,” Juliet said definitely as the steam rose in her face. She was almost certain she felt each separate pore opening.

“Stir easily. Seven minutes only, not a moment more.” He refilled her glass and kissed her cheek.

She stirred, and drained, measured parsley, poured and sprinkled cheese. By the time she was finished, Juliet didn’t think she could eat a thing. Nerves, she discovered with astonishment. She was as nervous as a new bride on her first day in the kitchen.

With her hands clasped together, she watched Carlo take a fork and dip in. Eyes closed, he breathed in the aroma. She swallowed. His eyes remained closed as he took the first sample. Juliet bit her lip. Until then, she hadn’t noticed that the kitchen had become as quiet as a cathedral. A quick glimpse around showed her all activity had stopped and all eyes were on Carlo. She felt as though she were waiting to be sentenced or acquitted.

“Well?” she demanded when she couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Patience,” Carlo reminded her without opening his eyes. A busboy rushed in and was immediately shushed. Carlo opened his eyes and carefully set down the fork. “Fantastico!” He took Juliet by the shoulders and gave her the ceremonial kiss on each cheek as applause broke out.