‘Grazie tante, Silvia,’ she said, smiling.
This prompted a voluble response Dante translated as great pleasure, that coffee and biscotti awaited them in the salone and Silvia wished them both good night.
Dante led Rose to a sitting room with a painted ceiling and furniture upholstered in ruby velvet. By the abundance of gilt-framed mirrors and pictures, it had obviously remained unchanged since his grandmother’s day.
‘How lovely, Dante. You’ve kept everything the same?’
He nodded as they sat down together on the sofa. ‘My family says I should buy new things, express my own personality, but I preferred to wait.’
‘Until you’d stopped grieving for your grandmother?’ she said gently.
‘No. Until you and I could make the changes together, Rose. Perche,’ he said, his voice deepening, ‘now I know I have a daughter, nothing will come between us this time.’
CHAPTER NINE
ROSE STIFFENED. ‘ONLY because you’re so desperate to be her father you’re willing to take me as part of the deal!’
Dante stared at her angrily. ‘This is not true. When I first saw you at Fabio’s wedding I was entranced.’ He turned her face up to his. ‘It is plain you did not share my feelings.’
‘Of course I did,’ she said impatiently. ‘I fell madly in love with you, Dante. Otherwise, the...the episode in the hotel room would never have happened.’
‘The episode that changed your life. When you cried in my arms that night I meant only to comfort you, but the moment we kissed I felt such desperation to make love to you I was lost. When I was forced to leave you so suddenly I felt torn, as though I had left part of myself with you. Which I had,’ he said bitterly. ‘Dio! How fate must have laughed when Elsa told me her lies.’
‘Tears are something I must try to avoid in future,’ Rose said darkly. ‘They get me into too much trouble.’
Dante seized her hand. ‘You cried the night in your house when we quarrelled, yes?’
‘Yes.’ She smiled brightly. ‘So no more quarrelling, either.’
‘This is a good plan,’ he agreed. ‘So now when I say we must marry you will not argue?’
If he made it clear he loved her for herself, rather than part of the deal that gained him a daughter, there would be no argument at all. He made it crystal clear he wanted her physically, but she would have to be convinced that his heart was involved, too, before she agreed to anything permanent between them. And if that was asking for the moon, so be it. She’d managed without him in her life before and she would do it again rather than enter into a relationship where her feelings were greater than his.
‘I still think we should take more time to get to know each other first.’
‘Gran Dio!’ Dante thrust his free hand through his hair. ‘How much time do you need? We have wasted too many years already.’ He released her hand and sprang up. ‘Scusi!’
Rose watched, dismayed, as he strode from the room. Did he intend on coming back? But, to her relief, Dante returned quickly, holding out a leather-bound diary.
‘Open it,’ he ordered.
Her eyes widened as she saw it was dated the year they’d met. As she took it from him, a withered rosebud slid out.
‘It fell from your hair at the wedding,’ Dante informed her curtly. ‘I have kept it all this time, like a sentimental fool.’
She felt her throat thicken and blinked furiously as she carefully replaced the pressed bud. ‘I must check on Bea,’ she said, getting up, but Dante barred her way.
‘I have just done so. She is sleeping peacefully.’ He took her hand and drew her down on the sofa beside him. ‘You say we do not know each other well enough to marry yet, but the best way for this is to live together, the three of us as a family.’
She looked at him squarely. ‘And there’s the buzz word. Without Bea in the picture, would you be in such a hurry?’
Dante dropped her hand and moved away, his face drawn. ‘What more can I do to convince you? I even embarrass myself by showing you the rose I kept. You say you fell in love with me at first sight, but now your feelings for me are very different, yes?’ He shrugged. ‘Non importa. For Bea’s sake, we shall marry, and soon. My child shall not grow up believing I do not want her.’
‘But what shall I do here?’ she said unsteadily. ‘You’re away a lot. At home I have my work—’
‘You could work here also if you wish. Harriet helps Leo a great deal. She is very good at taking visitors around Fortino.’
‘She speaks Italian?’
‘Yes. She taught it at one time. French also.’
Her face fell. ‘I don’t do any of that. My sole talent is with figures.’
‘You could help Harriet by taking over the English-speaking tourists.’ Dante turned to look at her, his eyes bleak. ‘Also, I will travel less after we marry.’
Will, Rose noted, not would. She had known all along that saying yes to the trip was saying yes to marrying Dante. Which was all she’d ever wanted from the first moment she’d met him; even more so now he’d matured into a man who’d suffered enough, courtesy of Elsa. And so had she. For Bea’s sake, if nothing else, it was time to move on. Grow up at last. And surely, once they were married, she could make Dante love her for herself, not just as his child’s mother. But what, said an inner voice, if he never does?
‘I’ll think about it,’ she said at last.
Dante eyed her suspiciously. ‘What are you saying?’
‘I can’t just walk away from my life at a moment’s notice, Dante. I’d have to sell my business first, for one thing. So you’ll have to give me more time.’
He shook his head in wonder. ‘Dio, that is not the answer I wanted, Rose.’
‘Take it or leave it,’ she said, shrugging, then quailed inwardly at the sudden fire in his eyes.
‘I will take it! I will also take this,’ he added huskily and kissed her with sudden fierce demand that shook her to her toes. He pulled her onto his lap, his lips and hands caressing her into a response which swept through her with such heat he pulled her to her feet and led her up the stairs to the gallery. At the open door of Bea’s room, they gazed at their sleeping child for a moment then Dante took away what breath Rose had left by picking her up to carry her along the gallery to his room. He laid her on his bed and began taking off his clothes. She shot upright in protest.
‘Wait a minute!’
He shot her an imperious look. ‘No. I have waited long enough.’ He knelt on the bed beside her and began undressing her. ‘You may not love me, but you want me. Do you deny it?’
‘No, I don’t.’ She took in a deep breath. ‘But don’t do this in anger, Dante.’
His eyes smouldered as he slid the dress from her shoulders. ‘No, bella, not in anger.’ He took down the hair she’d spent so much time over earlier and buried his face in it. ‘I want you, Rose.’ He removed the last of her clothes and held her shivering body against his hard male nakedness with a growl of pure male satisfaction. ‘Tonight,’ he said huskily, ‘we finish what we began so many years ago, yes?’
‘You’ve made love to me since then,’ she said unsteadily as his lips moved down her throat.
He kissed the pulse he found throbbing there. ‘But once again only in haste. Tonight I will show you what loving can be for us, tesoro.’
Rose felt his heart thudding against hers and looked up into the brilliant eyes moving over her in open possession. Yes, she thought fiercely. Show me. I want this. ‘You’ll have to make allowances, Dante,’ she said unevenly, her breath catching as he slid his lips down her throat.
‘For what, amore?’ he whispered.
‘You’ve obviously done this a lot and I...well, I haven’t. As you know, I had a boyfriend in college, but there’s been no one since Bea was born.’
Dante held her closer. ‘And was he a skilled lover, this college boyfriend?’
‘No, he was much better at playing rugby,’ she said unevenly. ‘But I was fond of him and he made me laugh.’
‘It is good to laugh together,’ agreed Dante, and kissed her with mounting urgency. ‘We shall laugh together many times, I hope, but at this moment, tesoro, I want you in all the ways a man wants a woman.’
Rose fully expected an onslaught as he sought instant relief for the tension she could feel building in his body, but instead Dante took infinite pleasure in kissing and caressing every inch of her with clever, inciting hands that tuned her entire body to such a pitch of longing she gave a hoarse little cry of protest as he paused an instant to use protection then took her mouth in a devouring kiss as his body fused with hers in a jolt of such pure sensation she fought for breath, her heart hammering against his. She lay relishing the almost painful pleasure of it for an instant before he withdrew slightly then thrust again to what felt like the very heart of her, his eyes like blue fires burning down into hers as he began showing her exactly what the art of loving should be. He kissed her as he made love to her, the rhythm slow at first until he felt her desire mount to match his, but at last he took her hard and fast towards the culmination that finally overwhelmed them both and, with a smothered cry, she came apart in his arms, and he surrendered to his own release.
Dante drew the covers over them and turned her in his arms to hold her close. ‘Rose,’ he whispered later, ‘I do not wish to move, but soon I must take you back to the guest room. Bea might come looking for you and find the bed empty.’
She nodded, flushing. ‘You’re right.’
‘Tomorrow,’ said Dante with emphasis, ‘we bring your clothes to my room and tell our daughter you will be sharing it with me.’
Rose braced herself as she shook her head. ‘I’d rather not do that until things are more settled between us, Dante.’
‘Ah!’ His face darkened. ‘This is my punishment, Rose?’
‘Punishment?’
‘For my sins,’ he said bitterly. ‘I did not tell you about Elsa, I left you with child—’
‘Since the child is the light of my life, I wouldn’t punish you for that, Dante.’ She looked at him in appeal. ‘I just want you to slow down a little, to give me more time to get used to—’
‘To me?’ he said quickly. ‘Yet, here in my arms, I thought I made you happy, Rose.’
‘You know you did,’ she said, flushing, and turned her head way. ‘That part of our relationship would obviously be good.’
‘All of it will be good,’ he said with passion. ‘But if you want me to wait until you are also sure of this I will do so.’ He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I am good at the waiting. I have been waiting for you for years, Rose.’
She turned on him sharply, her eyes flashing. ‘If that’s true, why didn’t you come looking for me once you were free?’
His chin lifted. ‘Charlotte told me you had someone else in your life. She would not say who it was, so I believed, naturalmente, that it was a man.’ He shook his head in wonder. ‘While all the time it was the daughter I did not know I possessed.’
‘I begged Charlotte to keep my baby secret. So she did.’
‘You were ashamed of Bea?’
She glared at him. ‘No, I was not! I was merely afraid that if any of your friends saw you anywhere near my child they would know exactly who her father was. And because you were married, it would have been disaster all round.’
‘But Bea resembles you, not me,’ said Dante, surprised.
‘Not the smile and those eyes of yours. They’re a dead giveaway. My mother took one look at you two together and knew straight away.’
‘Va bene, now the whole world will know,’ he said with satisfaction, and slid out of bed. ‘No. Stay there, cara. I have a present for you.’ He licked his lips as he leaned over her. ‘So I will get kisses, yes?’
Rose laughed. ‘Very probably!’
‘I have dreamed of this so often, yet now you are really here at last. Where you belong, yes?’ Dante gave her a look that curled her toes then turned away to open a drawer and took out a small box before sliding back into bed.
‘You don’t have to give me presents to get a kiss,’ she remarked, eyeing the box.
‘Then I will kiss you first,’ he said and did so with such lingering pleasure that Rose kissed him back in kind and melted against him, breathing in the scent of his skin as he nuzzled his lips against her neck. ‘Open the box, tesoro,’ he whispered.
Rose obeyed, and breathed in sharply at the sight of a gold ring set with a baguette emerald between two rose-cut diamonds. ‘Oh, Dante,’ she breathed, tears welling in her eyes.
He sat upright, pulling her up with him. ‘You do not like it?’
‘Of course I like it,’ she said hoarsely, and knuckled the tears from her eyes. ‘It’s just that I can’t accept it just yet.’
‘Why not?’ he demanded, eyes suddenly cold.
She eyed him in appeal. ‘Don’t look at me like that! I’m just asking you to wait a little longer.’
Dante closed the ring box with a snap and tossed it on the bedside table. ‘Va bene,’ he said shortly. ‘But I will wait only until I take you back to England. Tomorrow, you will have a taste of what life could be for us here in Fortino. After that, if you still say no to me it will be the last time. It is against my nature to beg and I will do so no more—but then I will make legal arrangements to share our daughter.’
Rose stared at him in horror. ‘Dante, listen—’
‘No, Rose. It is you who must listen. It is best we are clear on this. Say yes and we live a normal married life. If not, you know what will happen. Allora,’ he added silkily, ‘since I have you here and now in my bed, I will enjoy the privilege while I can.’ And he pulled her closer and made love to her all over again. But in the throes of the climax that engulfed her she waited in vain for the words which would have ended all argument, whichever language he chose. ‘Ti amo’ was one bit of Italian she would have understood perfectly well.
CHAPTER TEN
ROSE WOKE TO bright sunshine and found her daughter at the foot of the guest room bed with Dante, shaking her head at her mother in disapproval.
‘Up, Mummy. Party time.’
‘Not yet, piccola,’ said Dante, laughing. ‘First we have breakfast. So let us leave Mummy to her bath and you and I shall walk in the garden until she is ready.’
Rose blinked in surprise at her daughter, who was wearing fresh jeans and T-shirt, her face shining and curls brushed. ‘Good morning, darling. Did you get dressed all by yourself?’
Bea beamed up at Dante. ‘Daddy helped me. But I washed and did teeth by myself.’
Rose eyed Dante with unwilling respect. He was diving into the deep end of fatherhood with enthusiasm. ‘Then I’d better get a move on and do mine, hadn’t I?’
‘You are tired, cara?’ said Dante softly, his eyes gleaming.
‘Travelling always affects me that way,’ she said, and thrust her hair back from her flushed face. ‘Now, give me ten minutes and I’ll join you for breakfast—I’m hungry.’
After a swift shower, Rose wrapped her wet hair in a towel to style later, slapped on some moisturiser and pulled on jeans and sweater. Something more elegant could be achieved later on before they left for Fortino. She felt a pang of apprehension again at the thought of meeting the rest of Dante’s family. But his mother had been kind and Rose already knew Harriet, so she would have support from a fellow Brit among the alien corn. As she hurried downstairs she could hear Bea chattering away to Dante as they came in from the garden and felt a shamed little pang of jealousy of the man who was making her little girl so happy.
Silvia came hurrying through the hall with a tray as Rose went down,
and smiled and wished her good morning, but in a different accent from Dante’s.
‘Buongiorno,’ echoed Rose, hoping it sounded right, and received such a beaming smile in response assumed it did.
‘There you are,’ said Dante, getting up as she went outside on the loggia. ‘Are you dressed warmly enough to eat outside?’
‘I asked Daddy if we could,’ said Bea.
‘And Daddy said yes, of course,’ said Rose, smiling.
He shrugged, grinning. ‘Naturalmente.’ He pulled out a chair for her.
‘That means a’course,’ Bea told her, and smiled at Silvia as the woman poured orange juice into her glass. ‘Grazie,’ she said proudly, in exact imitation of Dante. ‘Was that right, Daddy?’
‘Perfect.’ He nodded in agreement as Silvia, smiling fondly at the child, spoke rapidly to him. ‘Silvia says you are a clever girl.’
Eating a leisurely breakfast outside in the cool sunlit morning was such a contrast to the normal routine in the Palmer household. Rose suppressed all uneasy thoughts of Dante’s threat the night before and smiled as she described their usual morning chaos. ‘It takes more effort some days than others, but I always manage to get Bea to nursery school on time.’
‘Do you like school, Bea?’ Dante asked.
She nodded. ‘The teacher reads stories. And we do painting and make things.’
‘Did you tell her you were coming to Italy for a holiday?’
‘Yes. To Daddy’s house.’
Rose eyed her daughter wryly. ‘And what did she say?’
‘What a lucky girl! Can I get down now?’
By the time Rose had washed her daughter’s face and hands and collected Dolly, Pinocchio and Bear, Silvia had brewed a fresh pot of coffee, so Rose sat down to share it with Dante while Bea played with her toys on the steps beside them.
‘Sorry about the face and hair,’ murmured Rose. ‘I’ll do something better before we go.’
‘I like to see you like this.’ He shrugged. ‘Elsa drank only black coffee in the morning and refused to leave her room until her face and coiffure were perfect.’
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