Page 25 of Unveiled As The Italian's Bride
Angelina was in her room, in the safe care of one of the young members of staff who had babysat in the past, watching television. Kate had popped in earlier, making sure to keep all mention of the party to herself, as per Dante’s instructions. She had hugged her tightly, tighter than usual, and had thought how odd it was that in the blink of an eye she would be astepmotherto this adorable little girl with her contained, sweet-natured personality. A little confused at first, Angelina had squeezed her right back and kissed her forehead in a curiously grown-up way.
Kate would be pleased to get past this tiny element of subterfuge.
She made it to the bottom of the stairs at the very moment Dante was emerging from the wing of the palace he had been using for his office.
She saw him before he saw her because he was distracted, reading something on his mobile, and because she had raced down the stairs barefoot and so had barely made a sound.
He looked...breath-taking.
His raven-black hair was swept back, accentuating the harsh, chiselled angles of his face, and he was dressed formally in a dark, bespoke suit, a white shirt open at the neck and no tie, which was the only concession to casual dress. He looked every inch exactly what he was: an aristocrat; a man who lived on a different planet from her, looked at the world through different eyes and had always, from the day he’d been born, breathed in the rarefied air afforded to the uber-elite.
No wonder this was a match that suited him, she thought, tearing her eyes away and bending to put on the sandals. She would never pose a threat, would never try and outstay her welcome, would always recognise the vast chasm between them and would never be tempted to breach it.
To all intents and purposes, she was a temporary asset that would always be invisible, and therefore in no danger of ruffling the calm surface of his day-to-day life.
Dante had not been aware of Kate soundlessly descending the sweeping staircase. He’d been too busy checking his emails, and scanning communications from the various people who had hurriedly organised the function he had set in motion. It was something that had to be done, so he might as well get it over with.
Why wait? An announcement would have to be made, and any thought of communicating the situation on the down-low was out of the question. He was a D’Agostino, after all. He could have waited a while and taken his time with the invitation list but, as far as Dante was concerned, the people he actually cared about enough to want on that prized list were few and far between. If it was all very last minute, then he was not unduly bothered about who could make it or not. In all events, not a single invitation had been turned down, such was the scope of his power and influence.
Glancing at his watch, and half-turning to the staircase, he saw Kate just as she was bending to see to her sandals...and for a few seconds the breath left him in a whoosh.
She was fiddling with the straps and his eyes followed the graceful curve of her pale neck and the slender delicacy of her arms. She was maybe five-six, and so slightly built that he felt a strong breeze could whip her off her feet. He heard her click in tongue in annoyance and snapped out of his momentary trance to walk towards her.
‘Allow me.’
She smelled of fresh flowers and the scent filled his nostrils, pausing him as he knelt to attend to the sandals that had been giving her trouble.
It was an intimate gesture, touching her, kneeling at her feet, the dominant male yielding to a beautiful woman. Her ankles were narrow enough for him to circle with his fingers and her skin was soft and silky-smooth. She was wearing pale-pink polish on her toenails and it seemed ultra-feminine on her.
The straps were fiddly and he had big hands. Was that why he was having a hard time doing the things up? He was hyper-aware of her hand lightly on his back as he knelt in front of her. Eventually, job done, Dante vaulted to his feet, making sure to step back a few paces so that he didn’t invade her space.
Knockout.
That was the only word for the complete picture that hit him square in the face as he looked at her full lips, small, straight nose and a heart-shaped face that lent her a look of disingenuous innocence. He felt a surge of hot blood rush through him, insistent, unwelcome and reminding him that this was not the first time his body had broken its leash and done its own thing in her presence. Everything inside him stirred in sudden hot arousal and, for a few seconds, it was such a shocking reaction that he barely recognised it. This was not part of his rigid, orderly approach to life. This was wild and uncontrolled, and he rejected it at speed, but in its wake he was left shaken and grittily confused.
‘I have the jewellery,’ he said abruptly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a deep-purple velvet box.
‘Okay.’
Kate had likewise stepped back, eyes wide, breathing shallow as she looked at him.
‘Wow.’ Her mouth fell open at the intricate, ornate diamond-encrusted necklace he held up. It cascaded between his lean, brown fingers like a tinkling, glittering waterfall of precious gems. She reached out and hesitantly touched the necklace with the tip of a finger.
‘It won’t bite.’
‘Tell me this isn’t real.’
‘Not real?’
‘These diamonds!’
‘Why would it not be real?’
‘Dante, I couldn’t possibly wear this.’
‘What are you talking about?’
She gazed at him and sighed at the bewildered frown on his face. Then she touched the necklace again, another quick, light touch, and he smiled, suddenly relaxed and amused at her tentative response.
