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And Gaby.
His Gabriella.
His heart did a stutter-step. Here you go, Orsini, he told himself. This is your one shot at the rest of your life.
“Gabriella.”
They all turned and stared at him. He knew he had to look pretty bad. Sam Cohen’s mouth dropped open. So did the other attorney’s. Gabriella turned pale. She took a quick step toward him.
“Dante,” she said, “meu amor, what happened to—” She stopped dead. Her chin rose. “Not that I care.”
But she did care. The look on her face, the tremor in her voice, that wonderful word, amor…She cared. He just had to convince her that he cared, too.
“Gaby,” he said, his eyes locked to hers, “sweetheart, please. Will you come with me?”
He held out his hand, held his breath…
She walked slowly to him. She didn’t take his hand.
But he knew it was a start.
It was still raining.
Gabriella was wearing a raincoat, but the rain was already turning her gold-streaked hair wet and dark.
“Where are we going?” she demanded.
“Just into the park. See? The Seventy-second Street entrance is right across the way.”
She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “On a day like this?”
“Gaby.” Dante framed her face in his hands. “Please. Come with me.”
She looked at him again. His hair was plastered to his head. His beautiful dark lashes were wet.
Water dripped off his Roman nose. His suit would never be the same again and his shoes…
Her heart, which had felt as heavy as a stone since last night, seemed to lift just a little in her chest.
“Gaby,” he said again, and then he lowered his head to hers and kissed her, lightly, tenderly, and even as she told herself his kisses meant nothing to her, she gave a little moan at the softness of his kiss. “Sweetheart. Come with me, I beg you.”
So she did.
She kicked off her shoes, because how could you run in the rain wearing four-inch heels? And this time, when he reached for her hand, she let him take it.
He led her into the park, empty of everyone but a couple of glum-looking dog walkers. The rain was coming down harder; they ran faster and now she could see they were heading for The Boathouse restaurant. Was it open? It was. At least the lounge was, but Dante drew her straight out onto the wet, deserted terrace.
“Sir,” a voice said.
Dante ignored it.
“Sir,” the voice said again.
Dante turned around, said a few words she could not hear to a waiter who looked at him as if he’d gone insane, but then the man laughed, said sure, if that was what he was determined to do…
And then they were alone.
Just she and Dante, and the rain.
Just she and the man she loved, would always love, in this place where she had foolishly opened her life to him, where she had foolishly admitted, if only to herself, that she loved him.
Why had she come with him? Why had she done again that which she had vowed she would not do, let Dante sweet-talk her into something that would seem wonderful for the moment and, ultimately, leave her weeping?
“Gabriella,” he said, reaching into his pocket, taking out a small blue box…
She staggered back.
“No!”
“Gaby. Sweetest Gaby…”
“What is it this time?” she said in a horrified whisper. “A diamond pin? I do not want it!”
“It isn’t a pin. It isn’t a goodbye gift, baby. Take it. See for yourself.”
“A gift to buy me back, then? Do you truly think I would permit you to do that? That I would let you—let you buy me, as you have tried to do these past two weeks…”
“Honestly, Gabriella…”
“Honesty be damned!” She was weeping now; salty tears running down her face and mingling with the sweet rain. “You are the least honest man I know, Dante Orsini! You made me think—you made me think that someday, someday you might…you might—”
“I love you.”
“You see? There you are, lying again. If you loved me—oh, Deus, if you only loved me…”
She began to sob. Dante caught her in his arms, whispered her name, kissed her again and again until, at last, she kissed him back.
“I hate you,” she whispered.
He smiled. “Yes. I can tell.”
“Honestly, Dante—”
“Honestly, Gabriella.” He drew back, just enough so he could lift the tiny package between them. “This is for you, sweetheart. Only for you, forever.” He kissed her again. “Please,” he said softly. “Open your gift.”
She opened the little blue box only to silence him, to give herself time to get her emotions under control, telling him all the while that he had wasted his money, that she did not want whatever was in that box…
