year, yet it was more of a commitment than Dante had ever made to anyone before.
The thought of them never quite ending was tempting indeed.
He stepped closer still and her world shrank further; even the sounds from the ball faded to nothing, for she could hear her own pulse in her ears.
‘You got the earrings, I see,’ Dante said, as his finger lightly touched one sparking jewel.
‘Thank you,’ she said, but her voice came out high, as if owned by a teenage boy, for his hand was warm on her neck. ‘Should I leave them in the suite’s safe or...?’
‘They’re yours,’ Dante said. ‘From me.’
‘Oh, no!’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Dante, please don’t buy me gifts.’
‘But I want to,’ Dante said silkily.
‘We should go back in,’ Mia attempted, because now things were dangerous. Now, finally alone, there was nowhere to hide the lust that thrummed between them. She shivered, though not from the cold. It was because his hand trailed from her neck, down her bare arm and then to the curve of her waist. The feel of his palm caused sensation to pool at her centre, and the slight dig of his fingers made her sex clench.
‘Did you know,’ Dante said, and his voice felt like a lick to her ear, ‘that this hotel is named after the old Duke’s mistress?’
‘I didn’t know,’ Mia responded, and her eyes met his. They glittered with ire—was Dante inviting her to be his mistress?
Or was it desire? For she was so exquisitely turned on now it was as if they danced alone.
‘It is said,’ Dante continued, his breath on her cheek, ‘that the Duke and Duchess were to host a private dinner for the Principe and Principessa in this very dimora...’ He registered her frown at the unfamiliar word. ‘Mansion,’ he translated. ‘But instead of being here to greet his esteemed guests, the Duke was, yet again, visiting Fiordelise, and so was, yet again, inexcusably late. Always he was late, and so it was decided that Fiordelise would have her own suite next to his...’ She knew he could not kiss her and ruin her make up, but his mouth was so close that it almost felt as if he were. ‘The Duke was never late again.’
She had to fight her own lips for they wanted to stretch to meet his. ‘We can’t do this, Dante.’
‘Why not?’ Dante asked, as his hand slid around to the small of her back. ‘I have to have you, Mia.’ She recalled how that night his hand had felt like a balm as he’d pushed into her, and possibly he was thinking the same thing for now he pressed against her and her hips fought not to press back.
‘Then we can’t be seen, Dante.’ Mia shivered, as she gave in to the knowledge that tonight they must meet.
‘We shan’t be,’ Dante said, and he took her hand. For a second she thought he was about to kiss her fingers in that decadent way again, but instead he pressed something cold into her palm and closed her fingers over it.
He let her go then and she dared not look at what he’d handed her. But she could feel the cool metal and it took a second to dawn on Mia that he had handed her a key and that they must have adjoining suites.
‘If you want me tonight,’ Dante said, ‘all you have to do is turn the key and you will find that the door on the other side is already open.’
Forget the corkscrew in her chest, Mia thought, for the key she held in her palm now wound her far tighter, albeit somewhat further below. The weeks since the invitation had arrived had caused silent, frantic negotiations with herself, insisting that she did not want to sleep with Dante again, while knowing she really did.
Except there was the pregnancy that Mia had not revealed to Dante—not that she had a chance to now—for the French doors were opening and Dante abruptly dropped contact and stepped back.
‘Dante.’ Stefano came out to the occasional garden and saw them standing there, grim faced, with Dante still holding the paper. ‘There you are.’ Stefano took in the very tense atmosphere and thankfully completely misread it, so much so that he assumed they were engaged in a row! ‘You told Ariana and me to put the animosity on hold for one night,’ Stefano challenged. ‘Surely you can take your own advice? The speeches are about to start.’
‘I’ll be right there.’ Dante said, and accompanied