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  Her tone was just as tense as his. This handsome man didn't deserve to have a father like Franco Ruffini who was a kind, generous man. And his attitude made her long for the money in her trust fund. She’d like nothing better than to buy the bakery from Luca and ask his father to come in and bake whenever he felt like it. He would always have an open door if she had her way.

  "I don't know why he is so infatuated with you and your cooking. But he is now insisting you be given six weeks to run the bakery before he will let me sell the place."

  Inside Bella was dancing and crying like a little girl, she was filled with such excitement. But Luca was angry and she feared he would be difficult the next six weeks.

  "I didn't suggest he let me use the bakery, he did."

  Luca shook his head, his mouth set in an angry line. "Fine, you will have full run of the bakery for six weeks only. But my papa will come and work there some, but I don't want him there more than three to four hours a day, do you understand me?"

  "Of course. He's welcome there as long as he wants to work."

  "I'm not going to let you overwork my father to the point it kills him. In six weeks, if you're not making a profit, then I will be selling the building. And believe me, Miss Sullivan, I don't think there is any way you will be able to make a profit. Even if your cooking is excellent. It took my father years to build that business."

  Of all the arrogant, challenges to throw down, this was one. It just made her want to show him how she would make a profit.

  "Why, is my baking not good enough or is it because I'm a woman?" she asked her hands on her hips.

  Why were all men such presumptuous oafs that didn't think a woman could do anything besides take care of them?

  "I've seen how hard my family worked to keep the bakery going, I don't think there is any way you can do it on your own. It's not that you aren't a good cook. It's because it took all of us working it full-time. It wore my father out and I think was probably why my mother died so early," he said gazing defiantly at her.

  And that's where his assumptions would get him into trouble. Who said she would be doing this alone?

  "But now you've got what you want. You will be in control for six weeks in order to make my papa happy. But don't ask for one day longer. Because I have a buyer and I will be selling that building, six weeks and one day later."

  "And if I'm successful?"

  He laughed. "You are one mere woman."

  "Oh, you have no idea what you've just said. I may look like one mere, small, delicate woman, but you've just created a firestorm," she said, her voice low and urgent. Now she was angry and she would do whatever it took to beat him at his own game. "Abigail?"

  "Yes," she called from the back.

  "Luca Ruffini doesn't believe I can make the bakery successful by myself."

  She laughed. "Who said you would be doing it alone? The suffragettes are on their way here. They'll help you."

  He frowned. "Suffragettes? What is this term? I don't know it."

  "We're fighting for women's rights. The right to make decisions on our own. To have a bank account. Own a business, and make that business successful. My friends are on their way, and they will help make this bakery very successful. I won't be alone, Mr. Ruffini. My friends are coming to help."

  Italian words spewed from his mouth.

  "Stop," she said. "I don't know what you're saying, but it's probably not very nice, so please don't use that language in front of me."

  For all she knew he could have been calling her beautiful names, but she didn't care. He'd angered her to the point that now she wanted him gone so she could get started on preparing the bakery.

  He threw his hands in the air. "Please. You're killing me. I can't let you have the bakery any longer than six weeks."

  She smiled at him, feeling just a little bad for him. He'd just made a horrible deal for himself. "A deal is a deal. If the bakery is successful, I will continue to lease it from you until I can purchase the building from you."

  His eyes widened and she could see the anger seeming to explode from within him, but he only grimaced, nodded his head in her direction. "Good day, Miss Sullivan."

  "Good day," she said and watched as he whirled around and all but stomped out of the building.

  Smiling, she stood there stunned. She had a bakery. A business of her own.

  Abigail came around the corner, grinning. "You got the bakery."

  "Yes, but the son is not too happy."

  Laughing they walked towards the back. "Now, when will the girls arrive to help me, because he's going to do everything he can to make this bakery fail. I just know it."

  Chapter 5

  Luca walked into the bright sunshine and stared up and down the streets of New Hope. His dream had been within his grasp when suddenly it was snatched from him, all because of that petite girl. He'd never felt so angry in all his life and yet the pint-sized woman had stood up to him. She had not backed down.

  But he couldn't let her lease the bakery forever, and yet, all she and his father had done was make him doubt his decisions. He needed the money for the vineyard and yet the family bakery held so many good memories.

  Yet, if he were to open it again, his father would be there working harder than ever. As it was, he would have to watch him carefully not to let him spend too much time with Bella.

  He'd yelled her name in the mercantile and she hadn't told him he was being disrespectful, but she had given him just as good as he gave her. No woman had ever done that to him. Most of them when he raised his voice quaked with fear and scurried away like a frightened mouse.

  And who were these suffragettes? Who did she think was going to help her make this bakery a success? Six weeks. In six weeks, he could move forward with the sale and eventually the vineyard.

  Walking over to the lawyer’s office, he knew he had to somehow convince the man to wait on the sale. As he opened the door, he took a deep breath and prayed the man would be patient.

  "May I speak to Mr. Barton?"

  "Just a minute," the young man sitting out front said. He knocked on the door that separated the man's office and then disappeared inside.

  Luca didn't really like Mr. Barton. He was a domineering, haughty man who was pompous and contemptuous. But he'd had the best offer.

  In less than a minute, he came back out. "Mr. Barton will see you."

  Luca removed his hat and stepped inside the office.

  A framed portrait of the man that Luca knew was Barton’s great-grandfather hung on the wall behind his desk. Tim's family were the original settlers of New Hope and Tim Barton didn't hesitate to tell you how his granddaddy wouldn't have liked the fact that women now owned businesses. So Luca knew he would not be pleased to hear that his father had insisted that Bella be given a chance with the bakery.

  "Hi, Luca. Have a seat."

  Luca sank down into the leather chair across from the older man, hating the way the chair made him lower than Tim. He liked using his height to his advantage.

  "I'm working on finalizing the paperwork over the sale of the bakery. We should be ready to wind up this deal in a couple of days," he said.

  Why did the timing just seem off on everything about this sale? If this had been just a few days later, the building would have already sold.

  "We have a problem," Luca said. "My father is not ready to sell the bakery."

  "I thought you said he wanted to sell."

  "He did. Until he lost the baking competition the other day. Now he has befriended Miss Sullivan and has decided to give her six weeks to make the bakery profitable."

  Tim sighed and tilted his head. "Six weeks? That's all?"

  "Yes," Luca said.

  Tim laughed. "And if she's not profitable, he'll go through with the sale?"

  God forbid that the woman actually made a profit because then his father would refuse to let him sell the building. And Bella would only be leasing, not purchasing the bakery.

  "That's what he's say
ing."

  A grin spread across Tim's face. "She's a woman. She knows nothing about business. This isn't a problem. It's more of a delay than I wanted, but..." he shrugged his shoulders. "In six weeks, she'll be worn out, broke, and the bakery will be mine."

  Luca bit his lip wondering if he should warn the man about Bella's friends coming to town to help her. While he didn't think she could do this on her own, with other women helping, it could be possible. But she didn't have the business experience his mother and father had. Still he would be dishonest if he didn't tell Mr. Barton about the possible help coming to town.

  "Well, there's one more thing," Luca said.

  "What?"

  "She mentioned something about some suffragettes coming to town to help her."

  Tim Barton jumped up from his chair. "Over my cold, dead, body are we having a bunch of man-hating, controlling harlots coming into town."

  "They're on their way."

  That had certainly gotten a strong reaction from the autocratic man.

  "And the sheriff needs to make certain they get right back on the next stage out of town. Those women want to take away our manhood. They would make us all eunuchs if we let them take control. No, siree, no woman I know is going to tell me what to do or she'll find herself staring up at me from the ground."

  Luca wasn't exactly certain what the big deal about these women could be. But the idea of a man hitting a woman curled his toes, leaving him nauseous. No one should hit a woman. And he better never see this idiot strike a woman or he'd defend her himself.

  He could understand why women would want to have control over their livelihood and not be at the mercy of depending on a man to take care of them. But he knew from past experience that Tim Barton had wanted Abigail Vanderhooten run out of town after her father died and she inherited his mercantile. Now he could be challenging Bella Sullivan to keep her from operating the bakery and her friends from arriving.

  "Don't worry about the sale. We just need to make certain Miss Sullivan is not successful, and that her misguided women friends are sent packing as soon as they arrive. Now excuse me, but I need to visit the sheriff and make him aware of what's about to hit New Hope."

  Luca watched as the man walked out of the office and heard the door slam. He'd never been too fond of Tim Barton, but now he just thought he was a rude, obnoxious bore.

  The next day, Bella had her head in her new bakery’s oven, scrubbing the brick walls, her apron had smudges of dirt smeared on the cloth and her hair was falling loose in strands from the top of her hair. She'd tried to put it up, but the curls refused to stay in place in the heat and humidity of Texas.

  The bakery was really in great shape. It was cleaner than she'd expected and Abigail had already ordered in extra flour and sugar. Within a day, she hoped to have her first batch of bread in the oven rising and another batch baking.

  She would do twelve loaves the first day and they were first come, first sold, unless her clients signed up for her to bake them their own special loaf and have it available on a certain day at a specific time.

  She was going to do everything she could to make this successful if it killed her, or she'd have to go home to St. Louis. Where she knew there would be a stranger waiting for her to marry.

  Abigail was getting married soon and she didn't want to interfere with the newlyweds. She wanted to ask Franco about the apartment upstairs. It would be so convenient.

  Crawling deeper into the oven, her backside bent over and vulnerable, she heard a deep voice behind her.

  "Ciao."

  She hit her head on the top of the oven. "Oww."

  Backing out, she turned to stare at Luca, so cool and confident standing in the doorway. "Sorry, to disturb you. I thought maybe I would come by and see how well you're doing."

  What was he doing here? Especially after their disagreement the day before when he'd made it clear to her that he didn't want her in the bakery.

  "I'm trying to get the bakery ready to open the day after tomorrow."

  "Looks good." He nodded. "I also came by to apologize for how I acted yesterday. I was upset that Papa wanted to reopen the bakery that almost killed him."

  She nodded, hoping that was the end of it and he would leave. She still had a lot of things to do. "Fair enough, apology accepted."

  "I also wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help you."

  She frowned. Now she was getting suspicious. Why would he be so nice after he'd argued so hard for her not to have the bakery? "Okay, now you're crossing the line. I could accept your apology, but I can't accept you helping me."

  He grinned. "It is my penance. Papa was not happy when I told him I had spoken to you."

  Laughing, she could just see the elder Mr. Ruffini upset with what his son had said. The thought of Franco requiring his son to come help her was sweet, but she would rather he just came on his own. She had to stop thinking of this man in ways beyond an acquaintance.

  "Later, I should have a wagon that needs unloading, but until then, I'm almost finished here. You can help me fire up the ovens."

  He smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders. "Let me help you get them started. The reason this building is off away from the others is because of these ovens. They must be watched closely or they can catch the building on fire. It's why Papa built the apartment over the bakery. This way, he would be close."

  All afternoon she'd thought about the apartment and wondered if she could use that as well. This way she and the suffragettes could get away from Abigail and Jack after the wedding.

  "I would like to use that apartment," she said. "Abigail and Jack are soon going to marry and well..." she glanced at him shyly. "I think they could use some time without a house guest."

  Nodding, he said, "Of course."

  "Thank you, I'll move in tomorrow. Not that I have a lot."

  "It's furnished. You can just use the furniture that's there."

  "Thank you," she said, her heart warming. Why was he being so helpful? She couldn't help but think there must be a reason for his sudden change of heart.

  "Did you tell the buyer that he would have to wait?" she asked, watching him as he moved to the woodpile and began to place wood in the cold ovens. She knew it would be a lot of work to keep the bakery going, but she could hardly wait to spend time manipulating the dough and baking it in the wood fired oven.

  "Yes, I spoke to him. He's agreed to wait," he said, striking a match and lighting the kindling.

  "Is that why you're being so helpful?" she asked.

  He shrugged. "Let's just say it helps."

  She gazed at his dark hair, his high cheekbones and felt an incredible urge to swipe the curl that kept falling onto his face away from his eyes. "As much as you want to hate me for keeping you from selling this place, I am extremely grateful to you and your father."

  "I don't hate you." He looked around the bakery. "I know Papa thinks I dislike being here, but that's not true. My fondest memories are of being here with him and Mama. It's hard riding by, seeing the lamps lit and knowing it's not them working inside."

  A twinge of heartache gripped her. She could understand why seeing someone else in the place where they had great memories would be difficult.

  "But I want to take the family business in a new direction and need the cash from the sale. Without that money, it will be a lot harder to get started."

  What was he doing that he needed the money? He'd not said what he wanted to do. His words made her feel uneasy, but then again, his father had made the decision she could lease the bakery from him.

  Tilting her head she stared at him as he lit the flames. The fire roared in the oven. She couldn't contain her smile. "It's going."

  "Yes, you can start baking in there tomorrow."

  She reached out and grabbed his hand. At the feel of his skin beneath her fingers, her heart raced and her chest tightened. "Thank you."

  He smiled and pulled her towards him. His other hand reached out and touched her ch
eekbone and she gazed up at him, wanting him to kiss her.

  How could she in fewer than twenty-four hours go from almost hating Luca to wanting his lips on hers? No, she hadn't hated him. She'd just been so frustrated that he would think she had deceived his father in some way.

  "I really didn't persuade your father to keep the bakery. He offered it to me." She licked her lips nervously.

  His hands reached out and cupped her face as he pulled her closer. "I know."

  His lips moved toward her as her heart rate accelerated. When their mouths touched, she sighed and sank into his arms like she'd come home. His mouth plundered hers as he kissed her like no man had ever before.

  He sought the edges of her lips, gently nipping her until she opened for him and his tongue swept inside her mouth, shocking her. Like no kiss she'd ever experienced before heat began to infuse her from the bottoms of her toes, raging like a forest fire in her center, leaving her limbs limp.

  Though her experiences with kisses were limited, no man had ever kissed her like he wanted to consume her, weakening her resistance. His mouth felt heavenly against her own. She wound her arms up and around his neck. He pressed her against his chest and she felt her breasts smashed against his rock solid muscles. She moaned deep in her throat.

  Suddenly the door to the bakery slammed open, women giggling loudly as they entered the bakery. Then they went silent.

  "Who's that?" someone said.

  "Luca Ruffini, the owner,” Abigail whispered.

  She pulled out of his arms, her breathing harsh as they turned to stare at the silent women who stood in the door watching them. Dear God, the suffragettes had arrived just in time to see her experiencing the hottest kiss of her life.

  "Well, it looks to me like she's getting along just fine with the owner of the bakery," Diamond, the toughest of the group said.

  After Luca left, Abigail walked over to Bella and smiled. "I think we came at a bad time."

  She shook her head. "Oh no, you came at the perfect time."