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About her, he was. It disturbed him to realize he didn’t know her as well as he thought. Like the proverbial onion, there were layers he’d yet to peel back, and dammit if he didn’t want to see what lay beneath. “Are you?” he asked.
“No,” she replied after a pause. “I haven’t had the opportunity to...improve...anything. I’ve been busy.”
“Why don’t we sit together, then?”
Rosa nearly choked. “Together? As in sit with you in the front row of the royal box?”
“Why not? Now that Mona isn’t attending, the seat next to me will be empty.”
“Yes, but I always sit behind you at royal events.”
A rule of her own making. Armando couldn’t care less about seating arrangements. In fact, it sometimes aggravated him the way Rosa would stick herself in the background, as though she were afraid to take up space. “Well, tonight I’d like you to sit in the front row with me.”
“I—”
“As you said, this concert is as important to you as it is me. Tonight will be the last concert I will host before I get married. This is our opportunity to pay homage to Christina together one last time.”
A shadow darkened her features. Using Christina was a low blow, but her sister’s memory was the one thing Rosa couldn’t resist. “I suppose,” she said in a soft voice.
“Good, it’s settled. We’ll attend together. I will pick you up at your apartment at seven.”
“Fine. Seven o’clock,” she replied. “Is there anything else?”
Yes, she could try to sound a little excited. “Feel free to take the afternoon off. I know how you women like to primp for these things.”
“Thank you,” she replied. Armando wondered if she was grateful for the extra preparation time or the chance to avoid him a little longer. Just because she seemed to accept his apology didn’t mean she wasn’t still upset with him, as her reluctance to attend the concert together showed.
He watched as she turned and continued to the door. Damn, but he hated those long blazers of hers. This one was charcoal gray and went to the hem of her skirt. If there was one thing he’d noticed over the years it was that Rosa had an unparalleled walk, as good as any of the runway models in Milan. Whenever she moved, she led with her pelvis, causing her hips to swivel from side to side. And, because unlike a runway model, she carried some actual meat on her bones, her bottom half undulated with a fluidity that was amazingly sensual. Reminded him of wine swirling in a glass.
Except when she wore those blasted blazers. If she tried to wear one tonight, he would burn it.
“Was that Rosa leaving?” Arianna asked when the door clicked shut.
“I gave her the afternoon off,” he replied. “She’s attending the concert with me—that is, we’re going to cohost the event.” The other way made it sound like a date, which this wasn’t. No matter how his body had reacted when she said yes.
“What a nice idea,” his sister said.
“I thought we should since Mona is unable to come.” And it would be their last opportunity.
Did his relief upon hearing Mona had canceled make him a horrible person? One would think he would want to spend time with his prospective bride. Wasn’t that why he’d invited her to the concert in the first place? So they could get to know each other?
And then he could start fantasizing about her rather than about the kiss he’d shared with Rosa.
He shoved that last thought to the back of his mind where it belonged. He was not fantasizing about Rosa. Not really. She was his sister-in-law, for crying out loud. His sex drive had reawakened, that was all. A man could only live as a monk for so long, and Rosa happened to be the woman who was there when his inner male returned.
As for tonight, it was only fitting they cohost the event. To honor Christina.
And if he wanted to make sure she had a proper time? Well, that was simply because she deserved an enjoyable evening and had nothing to do with wanting to make her feel special.
Nothing at all.
CHAPTER FIVE
WHAT HAD SHE been thinking? Rosa smoothed her hands along her hips. When she tried it on, the saleswoman flattered her to Rome and back with a pitch about how this dress’s straight cut accentuated her figure rather than making her look large and hippy. Flush from the ego boost, Rosa had let herself be talked into going against her normal style. It wasn’t just the silhouette that was out of character; it was the bright red color and slightly bare shoulders, too. Live a little, she’d thought at the time. No one’s going to care what you wear.
That was before she knew she would be sitting in the front row.
