The Prince's Secret Baby (A Baby for the Prince Book 1)(10)

Maggie handed him another appetizer, something dusted with gold and purple sprinkles. “Here. Try this one.”

Raffaele did, and then turned it around and over, looking closely.

“I appreciate that the chef embraced the theme, but I think deconstruction might show the ingredients better.”

Maggie tried her appetizer and made a little face. “I think the chef might have skipped this one altogether, though I agree it is on point for theme.”

She put the rest of it back on her plate.

They worked their way through the warm appetizers, tasting them and then tasting the drinks. With every bite and every sip, they got more into the spirit of the game. Raffaele relished the banter; Maggie was smart and sharp. She held her own with him. Raffaele was so used to women who were either intimidated by or infatuated with his royal status. But Maggie acted like she’d forgotten his title and was just having fun.

Raffaele picked up the tray with the cold dishes and held it out so Maggie could take one. He took the other and the each took a bite at the same time. They looked at each other and shook their heads at the same time.

“Just…no,” Maggie said, going for the glass of wine to wash down the taste.

“Definitely. There are no words.” Raffaele gulped his own glass of wine. “I’m not sure tasting anything after that is a good idea.”

Maggie straightened up. “We can do this. “It’s our responsibility—no, it’s our privilege—to try all this food,” she said in a rousing voice that would have inspired armies. “We must, for the good of this party, finish our plates!” she finished, lifting her glass of wine.

Raffaele stared at her for a moment, impressed, then Maggie shrugged and pointed at one of the appetizers, saying, “Plus, I’ve really been wanting to try that one.”

Raffaele threw his head back and laughed. “Then, for the good of the party, you shall.” He passed her the tray and Maggie took it.

She picked up the one she’d been eyeing and took a bite, then nodded enthusiastically. “I really like that you can taste all the different flavors.”

Raffaele picked up the other one of the pair and tried it. He chewed slowly, tilting his head in consideration. “I disagree. It’s not bad, but the flavors are fighting each other.”

Maggie shook her head. “It’s a great combination, and everything is balanced.”

Raffaele laughed. “You’re already planning on how you can do this better and put it on your menu, aren’t you?”

Maggie leaned into him as she laughed in agreement, acknowledging his point. Raffaele liked her being close to him. Being with Maggie was easy; it felt natural.

He found himself saying, “You know, this is the most fun I’ve ever had on a date.”

Maggie giggled. “Oh, so you don’t get out much?”

Raffaele rolled his eyes at her self-deprecation.

“I do just fine, thank you. But I don’t get to date world-class chefs. Or women who aren’t blinded by the whole royalty thing. Tonight has simply been fun.”

Maggie nodded. “Thank you.” And then she raised an eyebrow. “I’m still not feeling sorry for your dating life.”

That got a surprised laugh from Raffaele. “Nor should you.”

Maggie sat back and Raffaele thought she looked happy. He was surprised at how much the sight of her being happy pleased him. A lock of her hair fell over her mask and he wanted to brush it back just so he could touch her.

Raffaele drank from his glass while he considered the thoughts tumbling through his head. Gorgeous woman, amazing chef, fun date—he’d never felt this kind of connection with anyone else before. Even the moment of silence that stretched between them now was comfortable and tinged with anticipation rather than awkwardness.

And he was aware that part of what he was feeling was pure physical attraction. It wasn’t just that Maggie was beautiful. It was her smile, the way her eyes crinkled up when she laughed, and the feel of holding her while they danced. He could feel the sparks between them when they touched, and he wanted more of that.

He wanted to see her again.

Raffaele leaned forward abruptly. “I’m turning thirty in a month,” he said.

Maggie looked a little surprised at this declaration but only responded, “Happy early birthday.”

Raffaele shook his head. “My family is throwing a huge party for our relatives and friends. Dinner and dancing for 300 people at the palace. My mother is set on turning it into the event of the season. Would you be available to cook for the party?”

He held his breath while she thought about it, and when she nodded, he was thrilled.

“Yes, I’d love to,” Maggie said. “It sounds like an amazing opportunity.”

Raffaele wanted her to understand that she was more than just a hired chef.

“If you can, please stay a few days after the party. I’d love to show you around.” He smiled winningly. “I’ll feed you the best my country has to offer. You can count it as a research and inspiration if you need an excuse to take a vacation.”

“Raffaele, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. I’ve never met anyone I could talk to like you, about food or anything else. We have more than enough room at the palace, and Spiaggi is a beautiful place. It would be my pleasure to introduce you to my country.”