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Was he mad to believe her?
Possibly, but for that part at least, Dante did. ‘I know.’ He looked at her for a long moment and then gave her a slow smile. ‘The baby must really want to be here.’
‘Yes,’ Mia said, for she had come around to thinking the same, although it had taken her several days to do so. ‘But, Dante, I can’t just hide away here, waiting for word to get out. I’m supposed to be starting work tomorrow. I can’t simply not show up.’
‘Is the job with Castello?’
She nodded and when she did so Dante shook his head. ‘Castello’s a sleaze; I already told you that. He either fancied you or he gave you the job out of curiosity about me.’
‘Oh, so I couldn’t get it on my own merits?’
‘Well, I doubt it was for your excellent Italian, given the predicament we’re in. And it can’t be based on your reference, because I gave you a shocking one.’
Her mouth gaped. ‘You’re not allowed to do that.’
Dante shrugged insolently as he held her gaze. ‘I am, as long as it’s accurate.’
‘What did you say?’ she asked.
‘That you were a poor timekeeper...’ He watched her fight not to smile. ‘And I said you were a little slovenly in your habits...’
‘You’re not serious?’
‘Well, you did leave your underwear on the floor of my lounge.’
He loved the way she blushed as she asked, ‘What else did you say?’
‘That in all fairness I could not recommend you to an old family friend.’ Yet as nice as this conversation was starting to be, Dante held firm. ‘You’renotworking for him Mia.’
‘I’ll decide that, Dante.’
She was a different Mia without his father or family here.
Theywere different and the closer they got the more he wanted her. But there was still so much to sort out, for though he believed her about the contraceptive mistake, Dante still felt he was being lied to.
Always.
‘Mia, what were you doing, married to my father?’
The sliver of orange on her tongue felt like sand as he asked the inevitable question and she took her time to chew and then swallow as she worked out how best to answer him.
Or rather how not to answer him. ‘Dante, I think we have enough to sort out with the press and my being pregnant without discussing your father.’
‘There is nothing that can be sorted until I understand what you were doing with him. A torrid affair I might not like, but I could better understand it, yet you never slept together. Were you supposed to be some warped attempt to salvage his pride because my mother was sleeping with my old high school tutor?’
Mia was suddenly reminded of the hot-and-cold childhood game, and had to fight not to blink as she thought,How warm you are, how warm you are...as Dante inched ever closer to the truth.
‘How did it start, Mia?’ Dante persisted. ‘How did the two of you...?’
‘We met at work.’
‘I meant,’ Dante snapped, ‘how was this sham of a marriage conceived—tell me, Mia, how does a trainee executive assistant, with only passable Italian, get the role as my father’s PA, mistress, and then wife?’
He wanted his father’s memory to rest, yet these questions were buzzing and swarming and he needed to hear the truth, yet Mia refused to answer him. He was getting nowhere, and Dante pushed back on his chair and stood. ‘How the hell are we supposed to sort this when you can’t trust me enough to be honest?’
‘It’s not that.’
‘Then what?’
