AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Justina put her glass of water down with a hand which wasn’t quite steady. ‘Probably not. So I’ll just leave him to fend for himself,’ she said. ‘I can probably arrange the baby equivalent of a cat-flap. You know—a saucer of milk, maybe a rusk or two. He can just crawl in and out and help himself.’
Luigi pushed his glass away and said something to his brother in a low stream of Italian—a statement clearly designed to exclude her. But Justina was listening carefully enough to register some of the words. She saw the look which hardened Dante’s face before he made a furious response which was too rapid for her to understand.
Forcing herself to pick at food she didn’t want, she was glad when the meal ended and she could fulfil her promise to Giulia by taking her to see the baby. But her heart was aching as they walked into Nico’s bedroom to where he lay sleeping.
He was swaddled inside the cot and Giulia stared down at him for a long moment. Her voice was a breathless whisper when eventually she spoke. ‘Oh, but he is beautiful, Justina. Absolutely beautiful.’
‘I know he is.’ Justina felt the stupid lump which rose in her throat as they stood there, and her fierce sense of maternal pride was blotted out by the terrible sense that nothing was really as it should be. That everything was so damned complicated.
But she managed a smile as she and Giulia moved away. ‘Tomorrow you shall hold him as much as you like. I might even let you change his nappy if you behave yourself!”
Giulia was still laughing when they returned to the dining room, where coffee was being served, and Justina took the opportunity to excuse herself before slipping back to their suite.
She fed and changed Nico and put him back in his cot, and was standing in her silk robe, staring out at the starry night sky, when she heard Dante enter the room behind her.
She didn’t turn round immediately. Just said in a flat and emotionless voice, ‘What was Luigi saying to you over dinner?’
There was a pause. ‘We spoke of many things, Justina. You were there, remember?’
At this, she turned round—her body automatically responding to the way he was removing his tie and unbuttoning his silk shirt to reveal a triangle of dark, honed chest beneath. Keep it real, she reminded herself. Don’t let yourself be swayed by how much you want him.
‘I listened to him insulting me by implying that I was a neglectful mother. I know that.’
‘And I put him right. I told him that you are a brilliant mother.’
‘Did you?’
‘Certainly I did. I said that no mother could be more devoted nor more loving than you are.’
That took the wind right out of her sails. She didn’t want Dante praising her because that was distracting. She wanted to get to the bottom of what Luigi had been saying. ‘I’m thinking more specifically about when he spoke to you in Italian.’
‘I don’t remember.’
‘You don’t? That’s quite unusual for a man with your sharp sense of recall, Dante. Perhaps I’d better jog your memory for you. He said matrimonio—which means marriage, and which I imagine is understandable in most languages. But he also said avoccato.’ She frowned. ‘Which means lawyer, if my memory of my Italian classes serves me well.’
There was a moment of silence before Dante spoke. ‘Brava, tesoro,’ he said softly. ‘I had no idea you were so advanced in my language.’
‘Please don’t patronise me, Dante. Just tell me what you were talking about.’
For a moment he didn’t answer, and there was no sound other than the faint clatter of metal on wood as he put his cufflinks down on the dresser. He had intended to say this to her, yes—but not in this way. Not as something produced as a defence against a heated accusation made at the end of a long day. He had planned to wait until she had softened. Until he had made love to her and she was lying in his arms in one of those rare moments when he sensed she might be close to letting her carefully built defences fall away.
He met the amber fire in her eyes. ‘I had planned to ask you to marry me.’
CHAPTER TEN
JUSTINA FLINCHED, THINKING how wrong Dante’s words sounded. It was the coldest marriage proposal she could have imagined—and how it mocked her. The first time he’d asked her to be his wife he had been brimming over with love—but now his voice was completely different. It was like playing a familiar piece of music and discovering that the disc was covered with dust, so that the sound came out all distorted.
‘Right,’ she said, somehow managing to keep her voice steady. ‘That’s why your brother mentioned matrimony. But that wasn’t all you were talking about, was it? I’m interested to know why you mentioned lawyers. It’s not usually a top topic for dinner conversation—particularly as you both switched to speaking in Italian.’
Dante’s eyes narrowed, because surely she knew him well enough to realise that he would have covered this particular base. And if she was missing the point then wasn’t it time he enlightened her?
‘I’ve spoken to my lawyer,’ he said. ‘Obviously.’
‘Oh, obviously,’ she echoed sardonically. ‘And what did your lawyer say?’
‘She advised me that in our particular situation marriage would be the best solution.’
She? Justina nodded. Of course Dante would have a female lawyer—of course he would! ‘But a solution implies some sort of problem.’
