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‘Grazie, caro mio,’she purred, thanking ‘her darling’ with a sarcastic edge. ‘You haven’t said anything about my dress.’
‘Why would I?’
‘At least pretend to be romantic.’
‘We’re not pretending yet.’
‘Please tell me what was said today,’ Alicia said. ‘At least tell me if Reverend Mother mentioned Beatrice.’
‘Not really.’
‘Did she mention me?’
‘I was actually there aboutme, Alicia.’
God, she felt shallow. ‘I’m nervous,’ she admitted.
‘About what?’
‘I’ve never been to a family dinner before.’
Stop melting me, Dante thought.Leave me the hell alone.
Except he turned her to face him.
‘You’re better than the lot of them,’ he told her. ‘Just relax.’
‘I’ll try.’ She gave him a half-smile. ‘If we were real partners I’d be terrified, so...’ She took a breath. ‘We caught up in Milan, and we...’
‘Come on,’ he said, taking her arm. ‘Let’s just wing it.’
Her dress was not too much. She would have looked dowdy in the sensible choice, Alicia knew, for the dress was just stunning and people here were dressed more for a ball than for dinner.
There was music, and a dance floor, and the hum of conversation—and Alicia knew, straight away, who was his family.
They were just as beautiful as he was.
‘This is Alicia,’ he introduced her.
‘How lovely to meet you, Alicia,’ said Vincenzo Ricci—and, gosh, his father was handsome and, yes, he had the same lethal charm, though he was more open and expressive than Dante.
‘So sorry we’re late,’ she said, appalled, because she had never been late in her life.
‘I don’t blame Dante in the least,’ he said, and he actually gave her waist a little squeeze as he kissed her cheeks.
Yikes.
‘We’ve just ordered cocktails,’ Vincenzo said, and raised the slim cocktail menu. ‘Join us.’
‘No cocktails for me.’ Alicia smiled. ‘I would just like water for now.’
Dante looked down at the cocktail menu and thought just how hard life must be for her, in so many different ways.
He knew her food order tonight already. Could see how it all had to be planned out. And it pulled at him in ways he did not want, for he did not want to care about her.
‘Why don’t we just have the house cocktail?’ he said. ‘They’re a bit lethal, with Limoncello, vodka... God knows what else...’
‘Okay. Yes, please.’
