Mia,’ she heard. A gift for Mia.
It was a black velvet box, the colour Mia now wished her dress was!
As the staff stepped back to focus on her shoes and dress, Mia opened the card.
It was cream with embossed gold edging but the note was handwritten.
Thank you for attending
Dante Romano
Mia opened the box slowly and was startled at what she saw: a pair of the most exquisite rose-gold drop earrings and on the end of each, twinkling and shining, were briolette-cut diamonds.
No wonder Gian had hand-delivered them for they were surely worth a fortune. They must be on loan for the night, Mia decided, because they were simply divine. Perhaps Dante did not want her looking like the poor relation tonight.
But it turned out that she looked nothing like the poor relation!
Even Mia gasped at her own reflection as she stood before a long mirror, for she barely recognised herself.
The dress was as exquisite as she remembered from last year’s fittings, but her bust had filled out a touch, and there was rather more curve to her hips, which made her overall figure seem more voluptuous. Her make-up was not quite as subtle as she’d hoped—though her lips were neutral, her lashes had been darkened and black and winged eyeliner had been applied—but she’d been told the gown required it. And the gown absolutely required the earrings she now put on, because they pulled the whole look together completely.
And soon she would face Dante.
The elevator took her down to the first floor. From there she took the grand stairs down to the reception where the family were gathered before entering the ballroom.
Mia drew on every bit of reserve she possessed in order to at least appear calm while knowing she had completely underestimated the magnitude of this night.
And there Dante was, standing with Ariana and Stefano.
She could feel his eyes on every inch of bare skin as Mia made her slow way down. Ariana must have said something caustic for Dante tore his eyes away and turned to his sister, and it was clear to Mia that he was scolding her.
Indeed, Ariana had failed at first hurdle to put animosity aside. ‘Hardly a grieving widow,’ she hissed when she first glimpsed Mia.
‘I told you, Ariana,’ Dante warned, ‘to cut it out.’
He turned his attention back to Mia and all he could think was, Thank God!
Thank God his father had been unable to attend last year, for had he seen her like that, he would have been plunged straight into hell. And while Dante knew only too well Mia’s beauty, he was simply blown away for in that stunning red she was, to Dante, absolute perfection. He saw she was not wearing her wedding and engagement rings, and when the earrings caught the light and sparkled he felt a certain pride that she wore his diamonds tonight. She looked seductive yet elegant, and she had him fighting himself not to walk over and offer his arm for those last few stairs.
‘Mia,’ Dante said as she joined them, ‘you look stunning. Thank you for being here tonight.’
‘It’s my pleasure.’
‘How are you?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine,’ Mia said. Well, apart from being about to spontaneously combust! Dante looked impeccable and wore a dinner suit with utter ease. The jacket was velvet and as dark as his eyes, which were blazing with approval. His scent, that unique Dante scent, had reached her and as his suited arm brushed her bare one lust rippled through her like a stone skimming a pond.
Ariana and Stefano were rigidly polite but soon gave in and drifted off, leaving Mia standing with Dante.
‘Where’s Roberto?’ Mia asked, as he was supposed to be escorting her for her entrance into the ballroom.
‘Roberto is unwell,’ Dante said. ‘It’s nothing serious, but unfortunately he’s unable to attend.’
‘Oh.’ Mia blinked, sorry to have missed seeing him.
‘I can’t escort you in,’ Dante said. ‘That might be...inappropriate.’
‘Of course,’ Mia agreed, more than a little relieved because there were practically sparks flying between them.
‘However,’ he continued, ‘I have asked Gian—’
‘Dante,’ Mia interrupted, ‘you don’t have to rummage amongst family and friends for someone to escort me. I am perfectly capable of walking in alone.’
‘Very well,’ Dante said, admiring her greatly, and then, as the MC called his name, he added, ‘Oh, and just so you know, I shan’t dance with you, Mia. I think you know why.’
He left her standing there, a little breathless, a little stunned, as if she’d just been thoroughly kissed, and then, as it