Page 24 of Unveiled As The Italian's Bride
‘More opera than cinema. You can shop tomorrow. I’ll open an account for you. You’ll find that there will always be an extremely healthy balance for you to dip into.’
‘Signor D’Agostino...’
‘Dante. I feel that it’s essential you address me by my first name, bearing in mind we’re going to be married.’ He shot her a slow, crooked smile that had her pulses suddenly racing. ‘The fewer eyebrows raised, the better.’
‘So we’re supposed to be... Er, do we have to pretend...? What I’m trying to say—’
‘You’re blushing again. I like it. Please feel free to make a habit of it. And to answer the question you’re struggling to ask—no. We don’t have to hold hands or gaze into one another’s eyes. Such public displays of affection won’t be expected of me.’
‘Oh, good.’ Kate breathed a sigh of heartfelt relief, and then added with a rush of honesty, ‘Because when it comes to holding hands and gazing adoringly into a guy’s eyes I would want to actually be involved with him.’
‘Good. I like that. No room for misunderstandings. Tomorrow, we’ll leave at seven, with Antonio there a little earlier, as there are a number of relatives he hasn’t seen in some time. It’ll give him time to chat. And one last thing—leave the jewellery to me.’
‘The jewellery?’
‘You’re about to enter a different world.’ Dante smiled with a mixture of amusement and kindness. ‘It’s only fair that you have all the parts of the uniform you’ll occasionally be required to wear...’
CHAPTER FIVE
NERVESKICKEDINroughly half an hour before Dante was supposed to meet Kate in the marble hall where they would be driven to the private water-taxi waiting to deliver them to his yacht.
Having relaxed the evening before at the thought of something small and contained, with just a handful of close friends and relatives to contend with, Kate had spent the day in a state of mounting nervous tension.
True to his word, Dante had opened a personal account for her, and the sum deposited had made her eyes bulge and her mouth go dry. He had texted her the name of a boutique located in one of the fashionable streets on the outskirts of the city and had informed her that she would be expected and would be looked after. She could choose whatever she wanted.
Kate took this to mean that she would be guided into the right sort of formal dress for the occasion, just in case her lack of relevant experience somehow made her go rogue and end up buying something unsuitable.
In truth, she didn’t care. This was not a case of standing up for herself and demanding the right to wear whatever she saw fit. This was not any kind of relationship in any way, shape or form. This was a business arrangement—frankly, he called the shots, and why would what she wore matter to her when he was no more than a means to an end?
If she had felt the occasional, unexpected frisson in his company, then that was to be expected, because she was on a different footing with him from she had been in the past.
His choice was high-end, haute couture with no price tags on any of the garments. The implication was, presumably, that if you had to check the price, then you couldn’t afford to shop there.
She was treated with bowing and scraping subservience. She was put through her paces by two terrifyingly elegant women—which she found horribly uncomfortable—before being made to try on a dizzying number of elegant dresses and make a choice.
‘Perhaps,’ one of the women suggested in Italian, ‘you might find it helpful to take several with you, in case Signor D’Agostino has a preference?’
To which Kate burst out laughing and said, with a shake of her head, that he had already had quite sufficient input into the whole exercise, thank you very much. She didn’t think they quite understood her broken Italian.
Then there was her nails, her hair, the accessories...
Several hours later, buffed and polished, Kate looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror in her bedroom suite. The girl staring back at her bore no resemblance to the one who had started the day in jeans, jumper and thick waterproof coat, eschewing the expensive purchases in favour of comfort.
Thatgirl had been fresh-faced, make-up-free and hardly worth a second glance, as far as Kate was concerned.
Thisone looked five years older and was elegant, sophisticated and, frankly, unrecognisable. Her hair had been highlighted and was a rich mix of chestnut and gold, and swept up and expertly kept in place, save for some tendrils artfully framing her face. It emphasised the length of her neck. The dress, a simple cream and black silk affair, fell straight to the floor, fitted her like a glove and accentuated her slender build. It was cold, and she would wear a shawl and her cashmere coat.
Heart beating fast, Kate was captivated by the image staring back at her. She marvelled at how a simple change of outfit and a few clever tweaks to her hair could turn the nanny into...someone who was still a nanny but now appeared fit for the nobleman Dante was. Or at least, more fit now than she had been twenty-four hours ago.
She had never paid any attention to her appearance. When much of her life had been spent travelling, basking in sun one minute and huddling under the awning of a caravan in a different county the next, stuff such as gazing into mirrors and wondering what shade of lip gloss to wear to the prom were weird luxuries that had never really featured.
So now, mouth half-open, she could scarcely believe the transformation. If her parents could have seen her now, they wouldn’t have believed their eyes. She suspected that they probably wouldn’t have approved either. They had always subscribed to the hippy way of thinking, thatau naturelwas always best, and that the best things in life were free.
Kate breathed in sharply and her eyelids fluttered. At least, she thought, the best things in life had always been free until her father had had his accident—at which point they had all discovered that the best things in life came at a hefty price.
Hence the reason she was here, gaping at this new version of herself, with her stomach in knots.
She grabbed the clutch she had bought—one of the many expensive accessories—along with the strappy sandals which were silly, given the cold weather outside, hooked the shawl and coat over her arm and took to the stairs.
