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His mouth twisted into a smile. ‘You have your grace period, Mia, plenty of time to sharpen those claws...’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. I shan’t be staking any claim to the house, Dante, and neither shall I be taking the three-month grace period. I am leaving tonight. It’s all yours.’
Dante looked at her and waited for more information, but there was none forthcoming. He had expected her to stay, clinging till the bitter, expensive, contested end.
He felt like a prize boxer, primed to fight, yet suddenly without an opponent. As she went to walk off he made what he hoped was the parting shot. ‘On to your next one?’
‘My next one?’ Mia frowned.
‘The next foolish old man...’
‘You have no idea,’ Mia retorted.
Oh, yes, he did!‘The next foolish old man who would blow apart his family and reputation just to be with you.’
‘Your father was no fool,’ Mia said, because Rafael Romano had known exactly what he was doing when the deal had been made. ‘And neither was he old. He was barely in his fifties.’
‘But far too old for you,’ Dante retorted, though the fact was, his loathing of their union had nothing to do with age; it was that his father had chosenher.
Mia.
The woman who drew from him a desire so potent that she had made the last two years a living hell.
‘Oh, please...’ she sneered, and she could almost hear the prison doors between them clanging open, for duty was done.
Almost.
There was just this final bit to get through and she would be free of the Romanos and never have to lay eyes on them again. Or, more pertinently, never have to put up with the scathing barbs of Dante Romano again.
And though she should retrieve her cases this minute and leave it all behind, foolishly Mia decided that she would have her say, for she could hold it in for not a second more.
Her one final say!
And this was a new version of hell for Dante, watching her step towards him in anger, her curves in her black dress nearing him, her eyes glittering, as she moved closer, ever closer...and finally there was emotion on that unreadable face.
‘You have no idea, Dante. You look at me and you see a whore, you stand there and judge me, but even with your assumptions, you’re a hypocrite. You think nothing of sleeping with women for money.’
‘I’ve never paid for it in my life.’
‘Please! You think they would be with you if you weren’t rich, if you didn’t shower them in diamonds, or take them to your fancy hotels and give them the full Dante Romano treatment?’ Jealousy coursed through her, as it had for two years, hearing from Rafael and then reading herself of his endless trysts, his lavish ways. But it was something else coursing through her as he met her eyes and gave his response.
‘Oh, they would still be with me.’
Dante said it with such authority that she began to doubt her case, yet Mia fought to retrieve it. ‘No. They want you for your money, the jewels, the gifts; they would hardly want you for your tenderness—’
‘I can be tender when I choose to be,’ he interrupted. ‘And I can be less than tender whenshechooses that I be.’
As Dante gave her a teasing glimpse of him in the bedroom, the lights went out in her head. His hand took her left one and he examined it for a moment. ‘You wasted no time in removing your rings, I see.’ He moved the hand he had rejected earlier today to near his mouth and kissed the tips of her fingers.
It was only their second contact ever, and just the lightest touch of his mouth made her want to fold over as his velvet lips brushed skin that felt as if every nerve in her fingers lay exposed and wired to her centre.
‘You see, my dear stepmother, I can be tender...’
‘Stopcalling me that!’ Her voice shrilled as he took a finger in his mouth and sucked it. Despite herself, she wanted to press her finger deeper for more of the caress his tongue gave.
He sucked and he kissed, then left her finger cold as he kissed her palm.
‘Why?’ he said, kissing her palm so tenderly, yet it was painful too as between strokes from his tongue he taunted her. ‘Does it embarrass you to be turned on by me?’ he asked. He kissed her hand then placed the palm of it on his chest as he continued, ‘Did you feel shame when you sat in the dining room last night and wanted me?’
