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‘I hope this move to Italy will help you adjust,’ Rafaello went on. ‘Tell me...have you seen much of Milan yet?’
‘I’ve been exploring,’ she said, her voice firmer now, ‘while Dante’s busy at the office. I’ve found the nearest food market, for a start. And I’m going to try out some recipes on Dante,’ she added lightly.
‘Very domestic,’ Rafaello remarked, as if amused.
His glance went to his friend. He murmured something in Italian to him that Connie did not catch—only two words ‘treasure’ and ‘wife’.
Dante did not answer, but Connie had the impression that he resented what Rafaello had said.
Rafaello seemed unperturbed, though, and simply went on smoothly, ‘Once Connie has settled in you should do some entertaining,’ he said. ‘Your friends will want to meet her. They’ll be glad to see something of you, too.’ He turned to Connie. ‘Dante has become a complete workaholic since he took over the reins from his late grandfather.’ He nodded. ‘That’s why I was glad to hear he’d taken off with you on holiday. It’s definitely done him good.’
The warmth was back in his voice, and Connie liked him for it.
‘And it’s good that you can now be here with him,’ he added.
He sounded approving, and Connie liked him for that too.
She smiled widely. ‘It’s wonderful to be here,’ she said, casting an affectionate glance at Dante. He seemed to be tense, though, and she wondered why.
But the waiter was approaching, and the sommelier, and they all paid attention to their menus for a while, making their choices.
Rafaello shut his with a decisive click. ‘Champagne,’ he announced, ‘is definitely in order!’
When a bottle was promptly presented, and flutes filled, he raised his foaming glass to his dinner guests.
‘To Signor and SignoraCavelli, so very full of surprises.’ That sardonic light was in his dark eyes again. ‘Welcome ones, of course,’ he added. ‘In fact...’ Connie saw his glance go between them ‘...very welcome...’
Connie smiled a little uncertainly and took a sip of the beading liquid. At her side Dante also took a mouthful, but said nothing. There was a tightness around his mouth, and again she wondered why.
Then Rafaello was setting down his glass, addressing Dante directly. ‘I mean it, my friend—I am glad to see what I am seeing.’
Abruptly Connie felt Dante relax. Relieved, she felt herself relax as well. Their first courses soon arrived, and as they all got stuck in Rafaello asked some questions about their holiday. She and Dante answered readily, enthusiastically reminiscing, capping each other’s recollections.
She was aware of Rafaello’s shrewd gaze, but it no longer seemed to be assessing. If anything, it was amusedly approving. Presumably, she thought absently, because he’d originally been wary of Dante’s choice of wife and now he could see just how happy they were.
Because Dantewashappy. She knew it with absolute certainty. And she was so glad of it. A wash of that very same emotion went through her, and her eyes grew misty. Did she feel Rafaello looking at her? Well, he was welcome—more than welcome—to see how happy she was...how happy Dante was.
How happy we both are together.
The evening wore on and became increasingly convivial. Connie relaxed, enjoying the occasion. The gourmet food was beyond superb, and even if she could not appreciate the vintage wines as they should be appreciated, she certainly enjoyed them. Conversation was easy. Rafaello regaled her with tales of Rome, and she and Dante told him of their plans to tour the north of Italy, taking in new places every weekend.
‘Well, don’t wear Connie out,’ Rafaello said, and smiled at Dante. ‘And make some time for socialising in Milan too. Like I said, your friends haven’t seen you out and about for a long time.’
‘Connie prefers sightseeing,’ Dante replied.
Was his voice tighter? Connie wondered. Perhaps he didn’t like the suggestion that he was forcing her to go jaunting about, when the very opposite was true. It was she who didn’t want Dante feeling he had to show her the sights. But he seemed as keen on it as she was, and that was both reassuring and delightful. Just being with Dante was all she wanted. Her dream come true...
Her eyes went to Dante and softened as they always did. She felt her heart rate quicken. Emotion filled her with a rich, sweet warmth, setting her aglow.
A burst of Italian sounded behind her. Excited and voluble. She didn’t understand a word of it.
Except one.
‘Dante!’
She saw Rafaello look up sharply, and felt Dante stiffen beside her. She turned her head, as more Italian sounded.
‘Dante! Mi caro! Che bello verderti! E passato cosi tanto!’
