Dani could see a small child sitting on the balcony of one of the buildings farther down the wide canal. A little girl with dark hair curling silkily onto her shoulders. Her whole attention was on the piece of fruit she was eating with relish, and the sound of her giggle sounded clearly across the water as a young woman, probably her mother, came laughingly out to join her.
And there were so many aromas to assault the senses too. The smell of fresh bread baking. The garlic that was added to most Italian dishes. The juices of many fruits mixed together, adding a freshness to the air that was intoxicating.
Niccolo stood slightly to one side, watching Daniella indulgently as she fell in love with the magic that was Venice.
He had been born here, had lived here all his life, but to him Venice was still a city like no other. A city that twined its tentacles into your heart and never let go. It was easy to see from the glowing fascination on Daniella’s face that Venice had already started to take its hold on her heart too; her eyes were glowing mistily, her cheeks were tinged a delicate rose, and her lips slightly parted in wonder.
She shook her head slightly. ‘How could Eleni possibly have chosen to leave all this?’ she breathed.
‘I do not know,’ Niccolo murmured as he moved to stand behind her. ‘Stay here with me tonight, Daniella,’ he said, his hands sliding about her waist as he pulled her gently back to lean against him. ‘Please spend the night here with me.’ He groaned, lowering his head as he placed lingering kisses against the exposed column of her throat. ‘Our child permitting,’ he added achingly, ‘I would very much like to make love with you in the Venetian moonlight.’
Dani leant weakly against him, her senses having soared the moment his arms moved about her. His lips travelled tantalisingly down the length of her throat, and her hands moved to cover his as they rested against the flatness of her stomach where their child nestled so safely.
‘Your child permits,’ she assured him throatily. ‘As do I…’ She turned in his arms to offer her mouth up to the feel, the taste of him as his lips claimed hers.
It was a searching kiss, a seeking, an affirmation that they wanted each other, that their bodies were as perfectly in tune today as they had been on that night four and a half weeks ago, when they had first made love and created a child together.
Dani moaned low in her throat as she felt the heat of her desire for Niccolo in the tingling awareness of her breasts, the nipples having tightened. That heat spread down her stomach, sparking fiercely out of control as it reached between her thighs. She felt Niccolo’s own response as his own thighs hardened and his breath caught and became ragged.
Yes, they most definitely still wanted each other!
But…
Niccolo muttered in protest as Daniella gently but firmly moved her mouth away from his to tilt her head back. She looked up at him, the slight pallor to her cheeks telling him that she still had something to say.
Her throat moved convulsively before she spoke. ‘Yes, I’ll stay here with you tonight, Niccolo.’ She nodded, her voice still husky. ‘But only if you will promise not to talk of marriage again this evening.’ She looked up at him uncertainly.
Niccolo frowned as he gave her a searching look. He could easily read the signs of strain in her expression, the look of almost apprehension—of fear?—in those slightly shadowed green eyes.
But what had she to be frightened of?
He reached up to cradle each side of her face and looked deeply into those troubled green eyes until Daniella deliberately dropped her gaze from his. ‘You do know that I would never hurt you, do you not, Daniella?’
‘Yes, of course,’ she answered quickly.
Too quickly?
She had said she didn’t want him to talk of marriage again this evening—would not even contemplate staying here with him until he made such a promise. So could it possibly be marriage itself that she feared? And if it was, what could possibly have happened to Daniella to make her look so fearful at the prospect of marriage? Had her husband hurt her in some way? Perhaps been unfaithful? Was that the reason for the short duration of the marriage?
Niccolo felt a wave of anger deep inside him as he contemplated anyone—most of all Daniella’s ex-husband, a man pledged to love and protect her—having hurt her in any way.
But it was an anger he would control until he could return to England and possibly seek out the man Daniella had been married to so briefly; he certainly did not intend to shake their fragile relationship by questioning Daniella about it, either now or in the future.
His thumbs moved caressingly across the paleness of her cheeks as he smiled gently down at her. ‘I promise I will not mention marriage again this evening, Daniella,’ he repeated teasingly.
Dani looked at him intently, slightly suspicious of the ease with which Niccolo had agreed to her one condition for staying here at the D’Alessandro palace with him tonight.
Not that she doubted he would keep that promise. Niccolo was of all things a man of honour; having made her a promise he would most certainly keep it.
Maybe he was just hoping that their night together, their making love together, would convince her to change her mind?
But it wouldn’t.
Would it…?
CHAPTER SEVEN
DANI lay back in the free-standing bath, totally relaxed by the deep warmth of the scented water, its bubbles tickling her chin as she smiled in dreamy contentment.
The luxurious gold fittings and porcelain bathroom suite were unlike anything she had ever seen before, and even this room, she noticed, had a painted ceiling of smiling cherubs. Three of its walls were mirrored, with intricately sculptured surrounds. A bathroom fit for a princess, in fact….
Once they had drunk their tea earlier, Niccolo had suggested that Dani take a nap, and as she was tired from the travelling, as well as the strain of her conversation with him, she had been only too happy to comply. Although she had been shocked by the bedroom Niccolo had told her was for her use—its proportions were immense. In fact, the whole of her apartment in London would probably fit into that one room!
But the beautiful silk-draped four-poster bed had proved to be so comfortable that Dani had fallen asleep in minutes, awaking completely refreshed a couple of hours later.
She hadn’t been in the least surprised to find that Niccolo had sent one of his staff to collect her things from her hotel while she was resting. Although it was a little disconcerting to find that someone—probably a maid—had quietly entered the bedroom while Dani was asleep and unpacked the few things she had brought with her.
She had travelled over in tailored black trousers and a green lambswool sweater, but had deliberately brought the formal suit to change into for her interview with Niccolo. However, the delivery of her small overnight case meant that she could now change back into the tailored black trousers and a soft rose-coloured sweater she had intended wearing to travel home tomorrow.
She very much doubted there was going to be any need for formality between herself and Niccolo tonight!
Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach muscles clenched in anticipation as she thought of the night ahead. A night she had told Niccolo she would spend with him.
She felt a quiver of pleasure just at the thought of spending the night in Niccolo’s arms. Of making love with him with each of them knowing the identity of the other.
Niccolo had been so wonderful earlier—so warm and caring as he’d solicitously poured a cup of tea for her and then tempted her into eating some of the delicious biscuits that had been on the tea tray. He’d personally showed her into the bedroom, which he’d explained adjoined his, and had made sure that Dani had everything she needed before he’d left her there to sleep.
How easy it was to be lulled into a sense of contentment by such attentions, Dani acknowledged ruefully. How much easier everything would be if she were to just accept Niccolo’s marriage proposal and allow him to take charge, relieving her of all the worries of an u
ncertain future—
She was in love with him, Dani realised with sudden shock as she sat up in the bath.
Not just infatuated by him, as she had been at fourteen. And not just fascinated by him as she had been throughout her teen years. She no longer just suspected that she had loved Niccolo for years; Dani now knew without a doubt that she was totally, utterly in love with Niccolo D’Alessandro.
Dear God…
Her hands shook slightly and she tightly clasped the edges of the bath. She loved Niccolo!
But she had thought she’d loved Philip, too, once, she reminded herself sternly—and quickly followed that with the knowledge that there was absolutely no comparison between what she had felt for the insecure Philip and what she now felt for the self-assured Niccolo.
Maybe not, but she would be a fool—
Dani turned sharply as a knock sounded on the bathroom door. ‘Yes…?’ she asked tentatively.
The door opened softly and Niccolo stood in the doorway. ‘You slept so long I was concerned you might be ill.’
Dani had sunk back beneath the bubbles in the bath as soon as she’d realised someone was actually about to enter the bathroom. Her cheeks burned hotly now that the ‘someone’ had turned out to be Niccolo. It was more than a little disconcerting to have him come in here like this when she had just discovered she was in love with him.
A discovery she must never, ever allow Niccolo to find out about!
‘As you can see, I am perfectly well,’ she told him with forced coolness.
He hadn’t just been concerned for her physical welfare, Niccolo acknowledged privately to himself. When he had found Daniella’s bedroom empty he had briefly thought that she had gone altogether—that she had reconsidered her decision to stay with him tonight and had instead fled the palace.
But then he had seen signs of her presence in the bedroom—a pair of shoes beneath the dressing table, a deep rose-coloured sweater draped on the bedroom chair—and realised that she must be in the adjoining bathroom.
He had spent the hours while Daniella slept in quiet contemplation, knowing that her decision to stay here with him tonight, although positive, did not mean that she would change her mind about marrying him. In fact, the promise she had insisted he make not to pressure her again tonight on the subject implied the opposite.
It went completely against his decisive nature to acquiesce to such a promise, but at the time Niccolo had known he had no choice—that if he didn’t make the promise Daniella would not stay.
And he very much wanted her here beside him tonight—wanted to worship and adore her body long into the night, to show her that, although she didn’t love him, the physical love between them was beautiful.
As she was beautiful, Niccolo thought as he looked hungrily across the room at her. The fire of her hair was secured loosely on top of her head, wispy tendrils curling damply against the slender curve of her neck, and her face was slightly flushed from the heat of the bath water.
A froth of bubbles was hiding her complete nakedness from him. But that didn’t mean that Niccolo couldn’t easily envisage the gentle curves of her body: the fullness of her rose-tipped breasts, her slender waist and lithe hips and legs, the dark triangle of auburn hair at the apex of her thighs…
Dani was finding Niccolo’s prolonged silence disturbing—especially as she was lying here naked in the bath, while he was fully dressed in a cream silk shirt and tailored brown trousers. And looking disturbingly gorgeous. She groaned inwardly. His overlong dark hair was slightly damp, as if from a shower, and the almost severe handsomeness of his face was dominated by glittering dark eyes as he continued to look at her so intently.
She drew in a ragged breath. ‘Was that all, Niccolo?’ she prompted pointedly. ‘Because my bath water is getting a little cold.’
Instead of leaving, Niccolo stepped farther into the room to collect one of the huge, fluffy cream bath towels from the warming rail before moving to stand beside the bath. ‘You must get out before you catch a chill,’ he suggested as he shook the towel out invitingly.
Having Niccolo witness her standing up and stepping from the bath was not exactly what Dani’d had in mind when she’d made her pointed comment, intending him to leave.
But it was a little late to feel self-conscious, considering she had already been completely naked in Niccolo’s presence the night they made love and that she had agreed to spend tonight with him too. Nevertheless, she did feel shy, and glad of the scented bubbles that still clung to her body as she stood up in the bath, her gaze no longer meeting his as she straightened.
But instead of handing her the towel, as she had expected, Niccolo reached out to wrap the towel around her, draping it over her body beneath her arms before securing the ends between her breasts. His hand briefly lingered there, warm and caressing, his dark gaze steadily holding hers as he stepped back to hold out his hand to her.
‘Come,’ he said softly. ‘It is a very deep bath and I would not like you to trip and fall as you step out.’
Dani didn’t want to risk falling either, but the air of intimacy in the room, the sudden awareness she could feel between herself and Niccolo, made her fingers tremble slightly as she placed her hand in his before stepping out onto the deep blue Persian rug.
Niccolo was standing very close, so close he could feel the warmth of Daniella’s damp body as his arm lightly brushed against her breast, and he maintained his hold on her hand to look down at her searchingly.
‘You’re making yourself all wet,’ she murmured huskily after a frowning glance at the sleeve of his shirt.
Niccolo would have been happy to make all of his clothing wet just for the chance to hold Daniella in his arms, to kiss her as he had been longing to kiss her again since holding her on the balcony earlier.
But the uneasiness with the situation that he could read in her expressive green eyes warned him to practise caution. Despite the fact that the two of them had made love, that they had created a baby together from that lovemaking, he knew that Daniella was still shy with him. And he wanted her to feel less, not more self-conscious with him, to give her time to feel at ease with their intimacy.
It took all of his considerable will-power, but somehow he managed to release her hand and step away. ‘I have arranged for us to dine upstairs in the roof garden as it is such a warm evening; I trust that meets with your approval?’
‘Oh, yes!’ Dani could imagine nothing more magical, her eyes glowing with anticipation as she looked up at him smilingly. No doubt the venue for their evening would make it a very romantic evening too. Which was probably his intention, she thought.
Whoever would have dreamt that the thought of a romantic evening with Niccolo—her adversary for the last ten years—would fill her with such pleasure, such excitement?
Who would ever have predicted she would be about to spend a romantic evening with Niccolo at all?
But she mustn’t get carried away here, Dani reminded herself sternly, her smile slowly fading. Niccolo had his own reasons for making this evening as enjoyable for her as possible. And those reasons had nothing to do with romance. Yes, he might have made it more than clear that he wanted to make love with her again. But he had also left her in no doubt that his ultimate objective was to persuade her into marrying him, so that the two of them might share equally in the upbringing of their child.
It didn’t matter that Dani had discovered only minutes ago that she was deeply in love with Niccolo; she had to remain on her guard this evening, so as not to be seduced into a false sense of security that might easily persuade her into accepting his proposal. Once tonight was over, Niccolo had to be made to see that she meant it when she said she would never marry again.
‘If you wouldn’t mind leaving now? I need to go and dress.’ She deliberately moved away from him to cross the room and enter the adjoining bedroom, standing in front of the dressing table to study her reflection as she removed the pin from her hair and allowed it to fall down onto
her bare shoulders, before picking up her brush and running it through the soft tangles.
She was totally aware of Niccolo following her from the bathroom seconds later. She could see his reflection in the mirror, but she also felt a frisson of physical awareness down the length of her spine that told her of his presence in the room behind her.
Niccolo’s gaze was hooded as he studied the slender lines of Daniella’s bare shoulders and upper spine, with her hair a tumble of red flame against the silky softness of her skin. He wanted her with a need that was bordering on obsession!
Each time he touched her, spent time with her, Niccolo’s need to make love to her again intensified. Getting through the polite ritual of actually eating dinner with her was going to test his control to breaking point.
But it wouldn’t break, he decided with determination; too much rested on his not alarming Daniella with the intensity of his need. So instead he forced a teasing smile. ‘Can you find your way upstairs to the garden, or would you like me to come back in a short while and escort you?’
‘Oh, I think I can find my own way, thank you, Niccolo,’ Daniella turned to say lightly.
He gave a curt nod. ‘Then I will see you later.’
Dani waited only long enough for Niccolo to leave the bedroom and close the door softly behind him before sinking weakly down onto the chair in front of the dressing table. One glance at her reflection in the mirror showed her that her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glowed deeply green.
It had all seemed so simple earlier, as the two of them stood on the balcony, Niccolo’s arms around her and his lips travelling the length of her throat. He had told her that he wanted her to stay with him tonight—had asked her to stay with him, pleaded with her to do so. And as it was what Dani wanted too, she had agreed.
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