‘Why didn’t you say so? Most women I know would be shouting it from the treetops, but you barely tell me anything.’ It was true, Dante thought, frustrated by her reticence, not only today but since the moment he had met her again.
‘What would be the point? You rarely believe anything I say.’
Her eyes were fixed on the control panel and Beth didn’t see Dante wince. When the light flashed for the ground floor she was out of his protective arm and through the doors before they were fully open, and she didn’t stop until she was on the street.
She took a few deep, steadying breaths. At least she had not been sick this time, she thought with some relief as Dante once again looped an arm around her waist.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, and tilted her chin up with the tip of his fingers, his dark eyes studying her face.
‘Fine. I told you—it’s not a problem,’ she said, shaking her head to dislodge his fingers from her chin. ‘Now, let’s go shopping. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? I need the distraction of some retail therapy.’
‘Okay. First the jewellers and the ring,’ Dante said as they started walking. ‘As it will be a civil ceremony a wedding gown is not necessary, but if you want one...’
‘No way,’ Beth cut in, shooting him a sidelong glance. ‘Sackcloth would do me, but I’ll settle for anything you like,’ she said dryly.
If only that were true, Dante thought, and a fantasy of Beth naked and bound to his bed flitted through his mind.
Five minutes later they were seated in an exclusive jewellers with an assortment of platinum wedding rings on display in front of them. ‘Choose which one you like,’ Dante commanded.
‘No, you choose,’ Beth shot back. ‘After all, this is your idea.’
And in two minutes Dante had done just that. To her amazement he’d picked a pair of matching wedding rings and the jeweller had sized them. Dante paid, left his Rome address for them to be delivered to and they left.
‘I don’t know who was more surprised, the jeweller or me, when you picked those rings,’ Beth said as Dante took her hand and they continued walking. ‘I didn’t see you as the sort of man to wear a wedding ring.’
‘Somehow I don’t think you see me at all,’ Dante said enigmatically, and ushered her into a designer boutique.
While Beth stared around in awe at the elegant interior Dante had a long conversation with two very attentive female assistants.
‘Beth?’ He came back to where she stood, like patience on a monument. ‘These two ladies will take care of you, and you can show me the results.’ He lowered his lean, long-limbed body down on a plush sofa and smiled up at her. ‘Go on, Beth—we don’t have all day.’
‘Yes, oh, master,’ she mocked. She saw another assistant appear and offer Dante coffee. By the way she fussed over him a lot more was on offer, Beth thought snidely, and turned away. She wondered how many other women he had brought here. He seemed to be well known.
What followed was a revelation to Beth. She paraded before Dante in casual outfits and then suits, day dresses and finally evening dresses. All the time Dante lounged on the sofa, with a smile on his handsome face and a wicked gleam in his dark eyes, making personal comments on the fit and style, thoroughly enjoying himself at her expense. Beth was getting more incensed by the minute.
Finally, wearing a slim-fitting silver evening dress the assistant had virtually poured her into, which clung to her hips and bottom like a second skin, she’d had enough.
‘Now, that I like. We’ll take it,’ Dante said, sitting up straighter as she walked towards him.
She slowly turned around and heard his intake of breath at the rear view. Glancing back at him over her shoulder, she saw the stunned look on his face, and a provocative smile curved her lips.
‘Are you sure?’ she said, and, turning, she sashayed over to him and sat down on his lap. She curled an arm around his broad shoulders and lifted a finger to trace the outline of his firm lips. ‘Do you really think this is me?’ she asked throatily.
Dante was speechless. Beth approaching him with a smile and touching him was a first. Forgetting where he was, he wrapped his arms around her as she nuzzled his ear, the soft warmth of her breath making him hot.
‘Enough is enough,’ she hissed vehemently. ‘Remember the reason I am here. This dress is a waste of money—I will never get it on in a couple of weeks.’
He turned her head and covered her mouth with his in a fierce kiss.
The kiss caught Beth by surprise. All she could feel was the heat of desire, the pressure of his hand on her bare back and the hardening of his body against her buttocks. When he broke the kiss she was breathless.
‘You’re right, of course, Beth,’ Dante said and, grasping her by the waist, took her with him as he stood up, lowering her down his long body. ‘And I was also right. You are a natural-born tease.’
Beth’s provocative action was a salutary reminder to him of what she was really like. He had been in danger of forgetting in the shock of her pregnancy. ‘Go and get dressed. I’ll settle things here. Shopping is over. We are leaving.’
He let her go and walked across to the desk to settle the bill. After a few words with the assistant, he made a phone call to his driver. A few minutes later Beth reappeared. There was no denying she was incredibly lovely, with a perfect figure, he thought clinically, but so were plenty of other women who were not ex-cons. He was only marrying her because she was pregnant.
He took her arm and led her outside—and stopped.
Glancing up, Beth tracked where he was looking—at his watch—and when he lifted his eyes to hers they were hard.
‘It is only twelve-thirty. We could be home in an hour,’ he opined, ‘or if you prefer we can lunch here. I do have to be in Rome by this evening, so we will have to be quick.’
‘Your home is fine by me,’ Beth said, because deep inside she knew it was never going to be her home.
‘Good. I have had the helicopter moved to a ground- level helipad and a car is picking us up in a minute.’
In other words he had already arranged to leave, making his offer of lunch about as genuine as their marriage was going to be.
It was the longest conversation they were to have on the journey back. The car ride was short, the helicopter was standing in a field, and once on board no conversation was necessary anyway.
It did not get much better when they got back to the house.
Belatedly Beth remembered to thank him for the clothes. Dante simply shrugged and led her into his study, where he presented her with a prenuptial agreement.
‘Sit here and read it. I have had it translated from Italian to English. Make a note of anything you want to query. I’ll go and tell Sophie to prepare your lunch.’
Beth sat at the desk and started to read. The document was only four pages and quite succinct. Yes, it was there in black-and-white. After three years she could have a divorce and joint custody of their child, and the amount of money he was prepared to give her was enormous. Her first thought was to refuse the money, but common sense prevailed. She might not want his money, but she could think of a lot of people who needed it. She could give it to charity. Dante could certainly afford it.
When Dante came back she told him it was fine, and he took the document and left.
* * *
Beth replaced the phone on the bedside table and sighed.
It was odd that she had no trouble talking to Dante on the phone. Since their trip to Milan and his swift return to Rome he had called her most mornings. At first the conversations had been brief, with him just asking how she was, but gradually they had lengthened. He had not come back last weekend, citing pressure of work—much to Sophie’s disgust and Beth’s relief.
Sophie had shown her around the house and gardens, Carlo the rest of the estate, and Beth had done a lot of exploring on her own. Dante had asked her what she thought of the place, and she’d told him the house and grounds were beautiful. They had discuss
ed all sorts of things, and Beth had found herself enjoying his calls. But now Dante was coming back and she was a bundle of nerves.
CHAPTER NINE
GLANCING AROUND THE feminine bedroom Beth had grown accustomed to, she wondered if she would ever sleep there again. Dismissing the disturbing thought, she slid off the bed and quickly showered and dressed in one of her new purchases—a midnight-blue trouser suit teamed with a heavy white silk blouse. Her own clothes were already in a suitcase, along with a couple of new additions courtesy of Dante. After adding her toiletries she was ready.
A leisurely breakfast in the kitchen with Sophie had become a habit she had acquired quickly rather than endure the formality of eating on her own in the breakfast room. Today they were interrupted by Carlo, entering to inform them that the helicopter had landed.
Beth walked into the hall and glanced around, her eyes lingering on the family oil paintings that adorned the walls. One day would a painting of her child as an adult hang here? she wondered. Not that she would see it. Once her child was three she would probably never be back here again....
Dante walked in through the door. Her eyes locked with his and then slid away as he crossed the wide expanse of marble floor. Her heart thudded.
‘You’re looking more lovely than ever, Beth.’
His deep voice played across her nerve-endings.
‘How do you feel?’
He cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her head up to his. The familiar male scent of him filled her nostrils. This close he appeared to tower over her, all broad-shouldered and vibrantly male. Shockingly, she had a vivid mental image of his great golden naked body over hers, enclosing her, possessing her. She pressed her trembling thighs together. No way was she telling him how she really felt.
‘Fine,’ she managed to say, and his mouth descended on hers briefly.
‘Sorry I could not be here to show you around. I have missed you,’ he said in a deep, husky voice, his dark eyes unreadable as he held her gaze.
Something stirred deep inside Beth and she realised that against all reason she had missed Dante. She opened her mouth to say so, but Sophie burst in with a string of Italian aimed at him that saved her from making a huge mistake. He had obviously only said he missed her for Sophie’s benefit.
Five minutes later Beth sat in the helicopter with Dante at the controls. He turned towards her and handed her headphones so they could communicate. Not that she wanted to. The enormity of the day ahead was finally hitting her.
Within an hour they had landed in Rome and were being whisked away from the helicopter in a chauffeured limousine to the hospital. The building looked impressively modern, Beth thought as she entered the luxurious reception area with Dante at her side.
The ultrasound was embarrassing with Dante hovering over her, but as the nurse pointed out the outline of their baby on the screen for an awesome moment they simply stared, then looked at each other and grinned in amazed delight.
Back in the car, Beth looked in wonder at the photo of her child—until she realised the car had stopped.
‘My lawyer is expecting us.’
Dante took her arm and helped her out of the car into the offices of his lawyer. In twenty minutes the prenuptial agreement was signed and they were back in the car.
Beth glanced at Dante, a foot away from her in the back seat. He had taken out his smartphone and she presumed he was working. He was certainly efficient, she thought. The speed with which they had seen his lawyer had surprised her. But it should not have done, she realised. Of course he’d wanted absolute proof of the baby before he deigned to give his name to the woman he thought her to be. Thinking about it, she was surprised he had not demanded a DNA test. He didn’t trust her any more than she trusted him.
The car drove out of the city and finally through iron gates and up a wide drive, to stop in front of the entrance to a magnificent old building surrounded by perfectly manicured lawns and colourful gardens.
‘Is your apartment here?’ Beth asked, turning to Dante, sure he was the type to have a super deluxe apartment in the city centre.
‘No, I have an apartment on the top floor of the Cannavaro building. But it is more like an extension of my office than a home. I thought you would prefer a hotel so I booked a suite here for two nights.’
Beth was even more amazed, and slightly intimidated as she looked around the elegant sitting room. She glanced at Dante as he handed the porter some money and then turned to walk towards her, and she had the oddest notion that the distinctive, self-assured Dante was not as calm as he appeared.
‘You should be comfortable here, Beth. There is an excellent spa and beauty salon, a boutique—everything you could want. And as it is unlucky for the bride to see the groom the night before the wedding, and we need all the luck we can get,’ he said dryly. ‘I’ll leave you to rest and relax. Enjoy the facilities—buy whatever you like. I’ll call you tonight to make sure you have everything you need and be back at three tomorrow afternoon to pick you up. The ceremony is at four. Now, order some lunch. I’ll see you later.’
Beth watched him walk out through the door, leaving her alone at last. Why did she feel deserted? She dismissed the disturbing thought and prowled around the suite, discovering a bathroom and another room that contained a huge widescreen TV. But there was only one bedroom. Big and beautifully proportioned, with two arched windows and the biggest bed she had ever seen set between them. There was a walk-in closet, and the en-suite bathroom had a double shower, his and hers vanity basins, and a bath wide and deep enough to accommodate two people even as big as Dante.
Ordering a light lunch, she sat down to enjoy the meal. After she had finished eating she thought she would make the most of what was on offer and ordered a spa treatment for eleven the next morning. Then she unpacked and lay down on the bed to rest, the photo of her baby in her hand. This miraculous baby was why she was here, and she would marry the devil himself to keep her child. Her only problem was that she no longer thought of Dante as a devil.... The nightmares of a man in black no longer haunted her. Instead, erotic and sometimes stupidly romantic dreams of a happy-ever-after with Dante had taken their place, and that was what worried her most.
After a stroll around the hotel and gardens she returned to the suite to have a delicious dinner and a surprisingly good night’s sleep.
The following afternoon, having been waxed and polished, with her hair styled and her make-up applied to perfection, Beth finally put on the winter-white suit and matching camisole Dante had bought for her in Milan. She slipped her feet into high-heeled shoes, courtesy of the hotel boutique, and walked into the sitting room just as Dante appeared.
‘You are ready—good. Let’s go and get this over with.’
Beth simply nodded, because the sight of him had taken her breath away. He looked tall and effortlessly elegant in a silver-grey designer suit with a tie shaded in grey, a white silk shirt and the glint of platinum cufflinks. His black hair was brushed back from his brow, his handsome face stern. Lethally attractive, Dante exuded sophistication and innate masculine power—and very soon he would be her husband. The reality terrified her, but if she was brutally honest it also thrilled her, and she had trouble tearing her gaze away.
Half an hour later, intensely conscious of Dante at her side, Beth glanced around the wood-panelled room in the town hall. In her childhood dreams, before real life had caught up with her, she had pictured her wedding as a fairy-tale affair—nothing like this. The suit she wore with its silver trim was as close to bridal as she was ever going to get.
Beth glanced at the celebrant. The man conducted the service in Italian and English, but the ceremony had to be one of the briefest on record.
‘You may kiss the bride.’
The words jolted her out of her musings.
She looked up into Dante’s eyes as his arms wrapped around her and his lips touched hers, firm and warm and tender. Her hands went to his chest and she felt the beat of his heart bene
ath her palm as his tongue slipped between her parted lips and found hers. Involuntarily she responded, her body softening against him.
The celebrant cleared his throat and said something to Dante, and his arms tightened around her before reluctantly easing her away.
A camera flashed and Beth blinked.
‘Smile, please,’ Dante instructed, tucking her arm through his. ‘This one is for the baby,’ he said, placing a gentle hand on her stomach. ‘Every child wants to see a picture of their happy parents on their wedding day—even when the marriage no longer exists.’
‘So that is the reason you insisted on buying this suit?’ she said, surprised by his forward-thinking.
‘Even an autocratic lawyer can have flashes of inspiration sometimes,’ he said drolly, and then tugged her arm through his and led her out of the building and into the waiting car.
Back at the hotel, she could not look at him as they ascended the stairs to the first-floor suite. Her panic was mounting with every step as the enormity of what she had done filled her mind. She was married and pregnant and in a few minutes she would be alone with Dante. Her stomach knotted with nerves.
When they reached the suite, Beth’s mouth fell open in shock. The elegant suite had been transformed into something incredibly romantic, with dozens of red roses in vases, others in exquisite arrangements, and candles scattered all around. Champagne stood on ice on a silver stand, and next to it was a table exquisitely set for two, with a single red rose in a silver flute as a centrepiece.
‘I can’t believe this,’ Beth said, and Dante reached for her, his hands clasping her waist, drawing her nearer. She felt her body flush with warmth and her pulse quicken.
‘Would you believe I’m a romantic at heart? I believe every bride deserves a bridal suite on her wedding night.’ He grinned.
Seeing Beth in the hospital had caused a seismic shift in Dante’s thinking. For years he had considered her beneath contempt as a drug dealer and the type of immoral woman who would play on her beauty to entrap men for her personal benefit. But when he had seen the scan of their child inside her an emotion he had never experienced before had overwhelmed him. From that moment on he had looked at her in a new way—a different way.
The Cost of Her Innocence Page 12
