Italy's Most Scandalous Virgin - Carol Marinelli Page 0,35

his brother back to the ballroom, leaving Mia to slip the key into her small purse and make her own way back alone.

Dante took up the microphone and thanked everyone for coming; he spoke of his father and how important this night had always been to him.

Mia stood there, trying to mimic his calm, trying to laugh when appropriate, trying to concentrate on the rest of the night, while the key in her purse seemed to pulse like a nuclear alarm.

All she could think about was that tonight she would be with Dante.

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE REST OF the ball passed by in a blur, but finally there came an appropriate time for Mia to leave and she headed up to her suite. She found that not only could Dante be tender when he so chose, he could be romantic too. There was champagne chilling and a silver tray of handmade chocolates, as well as a glorious display of roses in the deep blood-red colour of the dress. She doubted the colour choice was coincidental and it told Mia he had taken in every detail of what she wore.

Her breathing was coming a little too fast, as if Dante were actually present. As she took out the key from her purse, Mia truly didn’t know what to do.

Oh, she knew what she wanted to do—her slightly frantic eyes took in her surroundings and found that the lounge had an adjoining door—and she wanted to turn the key in the lock and be thoroughly made love to by Dante.

But would it be wrong not to tell him about the baby first?

Mia truly did not know how to say the words. Should she just blurt them out?

Or would she chicken out and write a note, slide it under his door, and await her fate?

She sat at the walnut desk, a stack of thick cream paper embossed with ‘La Fiordelise’ in swirling gold in front of her, and thought of Fiordelise waiting for the Duke to visit as she tried to work out her I’m pregnant speech.

Dante, I don’t know how to tell you this...

Dante, there was a problem after I took the pills...

Dante...

Her heart was thumping, but more with frustration than fear, because she knew the second she told him about the pregnancy their magical night would end and everything would change. And then Mia made the first truly selfish decision of her life: while she knew she had to tell him, and she would tell him, she wanted Dante tonight.

She abandoned her writing and turned the key in the adjoining door.

He might be ages, Mia told herself. After all, there were many guests to thank and to say goodbye to, but she jumped when a mere moment later the lever on the door slowly lowered. She stood as the door was pushed open and there was no question now if she would tell him.

No questions in her mind at all.

‘Mia.’ He took a step forward and she stumbled towards him.

And when he took her in his arms, all the fear of telling him, the uncertainty all hushed as if a plug had been pulled and all that was left was the vacuum of them into which he drew her.

Dante pulled her right into him and held her as he had wanted to the entire night, and she revelled in the bliss of being back in his strong, warm embrace.

He kissed her temple, and her eyes screwed closed at his soft touch, then a tiny cry came to her mouth as he kissed her cheeks.

‘Dante...’ She sought his mouth, but he denied it, and lowered his head to the tender skin on her neck and inhaled her scent.

He could feel her shaking, literally trembling with desire. Dante wanted her naked in bed—his bed, or hers, he cared not which. He just wanted to kiss every inch of her, but then he lifted his head and their mouths met and everything changed.

For both, it was the end of longing.

It was a fierce kiss, when he hadn’t intended it to be, but it was a mutual kiss borne of three months of yearning from both of them.

Dante’s scent, which Mia had hungered for, consumed her again, and their untamed passion unleashed her and caused her to reveal other truths that she’d not intended to share. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she panted between kisses. ‘Dante, I want you so much...’

The breathless admission was delivered with a wanton edge that surprised Dante, for she was always so pent up