Italy's Most Scandalous Virgin - Carol Marinelli Page 0,30

De Luca, the owner of La Fiordelise.

Mia was starting to understand that this night wasn’t just big, it was huge, and she had forgotten what it was like to be in the Romanos’ world!

‘We are delighted to welcome you to La Fiordelise,’ Gian said, and introduced her to the guest services manager, who, he said, would escort her to her suite.

As she rode the ancient elevator, Mia was having a silent panic about her gown. It was in deep blood-red silk, a halter neck, with a slit at the back that revealed a glimpse of brilliant scarlet silk lining. It had been made with a great deal of skill and care and was sensual and gorgeous, though it showed a little too much of her shoulders and back for Mia’s usual taste. It had been absolutely suitable for her entrance, and first real social appearance as Rafael Romano’s wife.

She just wasn’t so sure it was a suitable gown for Rafael Romano’s recent widow!

‘I trust you will be comfortable,’ the guest services manager said.

Comfortable!

The suite was utterly sumptuous, with stencilled walls dotted with gorgeous oil paintings, and tastefully decorated with antique furnishings. It was like stepping into another world and as she glanced through to the bedroom she saw the bed dressed in rich linens and silk drapes.

And it was all for her!

Rafael had told her the ball was an oppulent affair. In fact, Mia knew that in the divorce negotiations Angela had fought to continue to attend the ball, but Rafael had put his foot down and said, no, it would be too messy; Angela could keep the Romano surname but not her place at the ball.

Mia had never fully grasped the lavishness of the occasion.

She grimaced slightly at her paltry case as it was delivered, and knew it was filled with one silk gown, stilettos, nightwear, underwear, a denim skirt and top and a make-up bag. Never had the usually meticulous Mia felt so vastly underprepared.

‘Is there anything we can help with?’ the guest services manager asked.

So daunted was Mia by the prospect of tonight she was brave enough to ask for some help. ‘Actually, I’ve probably left it far too late but I wasn’t able to book a hair appointment.’

‘I shall have the personal stylist come and speak with you now.’ He smiled. ‘No problem at all.’

It was indeed no problem, for after a long conversation with the personal stylist, it was agreed that while Mia took high tea on the balcony, her bath would be drawn and then the hair and make-up experts would come in.

The suite was stunning and looked out at Piazza Navona, a gorgeous public space with grand statues and fountains, and Mia sat sipping tea and trying to quell her nerves while telling herself it would all be okay though she felt terribly rude to have not RSVP’d. Her gown had been taken to be skilfully pressed and she had a host of fairy godmothers on hand to get her ready for the ball.

A little later she lay in a deep bath, terrified about all the night held, still not knowing what would happen between her and Dante.

Would they get a chance to speak?

And, if they did, would she tell him about the baby?

But there was more on her mind than the baby. Just the thought of seeing him was enough to mean the pink hue to her skin could not all be blamed on the fragrant warm water out of which she now stepped.

She was to be given the full treatment, although Mia had declined a massage, unsure if she could while pregnant, and most unwilling to tell the staff her secret. Instead, she applied gorgeous body oil and then put on a fluffy white gown and stepped out to begin her transformation.

‘Subtle make-up,’ Mia said, her eyes drifting to the very red gown.

‘Of course, Signora Romano.’

Her rather short nails were buffed to perfection; even her toenails were treated to the same.

In her time with Rafael she had steered clear of all this, preferring to retreat to the Tuscan hills, but now she was getting a real insight into the lavish lifestyle the Romanos led in Rome and she was finding it unnerving.

There was a knock on the door, just as her hair had been done and her make-up was being applied. There was a slight flutter of panic from all the staff present when it was established that the owner, Gian, was personally delivering a package to the room.

‘Un regalo per