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‘Then we can’t be seen, Dante.’ Mia shivered, as she gave in to the knowledge that tonight they must meet.
‘We shan’t be,’ Dante said, and he took her hand. For a second she thought he was about to kiss her fingers in that decadent way again, but instead he pressed something cold into her palm and closed her fingers over it.
He let her go then and she dared not look at what he’d handed her. But she could feel the cool metal and it took a second to dawn on Mia that he had handed her a key and that they must have adjoining suites.
‘If you want me tonight,’ Dante said, ‘all you have to do is turn the key and you will find that the door on the other side is already open.’
Forget the corkscrew in her chest, Mia thought, for the key she held in her palm now wound her far tighter, albeit somewhat further below. The weeks since the invitation had arrived had caused silent, frantic negotiations with herself, insisting that she did not want to sleep with Dante again, while knowing she really did.
Except there was the pregnancy that Mia had not revealed to Dante—not that she had a chance to now—for the French doors were opening and Dante abruptly dropped contact and stepped back.
‘Dante.’ Stefano came out to the occasional garden and saw them standing there, grim faced, with Dante still holding the paper. ‘There you are.’ Stefano took in the very tense atmosphere and thankfully completely misread it, so much so that he assumed they were engaged in a row! ‘You told Ariana and me to put the animosity on hold for one night,’ Stefano challenged. ‘Surely you can take your own advice? The speeches are about to start.’
‘I’ll be right there.’ Dante said, and accompanied his brother back to the ballroom, leaving Mia to slip the key into her small purse and make her own way back alone.
Dante took up the microphone and thanked everyone for coming; he spoke of his father and how important this night had always been to him.
Mia stood there, trying to mimic his calm, trying to laugh when appropriate, trying to concentrate on the rest of the night, while the key in her purse seemed to pulse like a nuclear alarm.
All she could think about was that tonight she would be with Dante.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THERESTOFthe ball passed by in a blur, but finally there came an appropriate time for Mia to leave and she headed up to her suite. She found that not only could Dante be tender when he so chose, he could be romantic too. There was champagne chilling and a silver tray of handmade chocolates, as well as a glorious display of roses in the deep blood-red colour of the dress. She doubted the colour choice was coincidental and it told Mia he had taken in every detail of what she wore.
Her breathing was coming a little too fast, as if Dante were actually present. As she took out the key from her purse, Mia truly didn’t know what to do.
Oh, she knew what shewantedto do—her slightly frantic eyes took in her surroundings and found that the lounge had an adjoining door—and she wanted to turn the key in the lock and be thoroughly made love to by Dante.
But would it be wrong not to tell him about the baby first?
Mia truly did not know how to say the words. Should she just blurt them out?
Or would she chicken out and write a note, slide it under his door, and await her fate?
She sat at the walnut desk, a stack of thick cream paper embossed with ‘La Fiordelise’ in swirling gold in front of her, and thought of Fiordelise waiting for the Duke to visit as she tried to work out herI’m pregnantspeech.
Dante, I don’t know how to tell you this...
Dante, there was a problem after I took the pills...
Dante...
Her heart was thumping, but more with frustration than fear, because she knew the second she told him about the pregnancy their magical night would end and everything would change. And then Mia made the first truly selfish decision of her life: while she knew she had to tell him, and she would tell him, she wanted Dante tonight.
She abandoned her writing and turned the key in the adjoining door.
He might be ages, Mia told herself. After all, there were many guests to thank and to say goodbye to, but she jumped when a mere moment later the lever on the door slowly lowered. She stood as the door was pushed open and there was no question now if she would tell him.
No questions in her mind at all.
‘Mia.’ He took a step forward and she stumbled towards him.
And when he took her in his arms, all the fear of telling him, the uncertainty all hushed as if a plug had been pulled and all that was left was the vacuum of them into which he drew her.
Dante pulled her right into him and held her as he had wanted to the entire night, and she revelled in the bliss of being back in his strong, warm embrace.
He kissed her temple, and her eyes screwed closed at his soft touch, then a tiny cry came to her mouth as he kissed her cheeks.
