in his arms, with her face staring up at his, he would test her reaction and he would get to the truth.
And then he would explore those changes.
‘I just came from Roberto,’ Dante said.
‘Did he tell you to arrange a DNA test?’ She gave a mirthless laugh, while still wanting his kiss. ‘You’re all so predictable.’
‘No, no,’ Dante said. ‘Roberto said there was no way you could be pregnant. In fact, he was most insistent.’
‘Dante...’ She was getting annoyed, and was about to brush off his hands but stilled when he spoke next.
‘You see, he did not know then that I was telling him the baby was mine. He did not know you were just three months pregnant; he did not know anything, in fact, except he stated that the baby could not be my father’s.’
‘I don’t see where you’re going with this...’ Mia swallowed, and he watched her carefully; he saw too the wary dart in those gorgeous blue eyes as she tried to come up with a response. ‘Clearly Roberto knew that the marriage was...’ her voice trailed off.
‘Was what?’ he persisted.
‘For money.’
‘Why, though?’ Dante pushed. ‘I don’t doubt you were in it to make a quick buck, and I accept that my father was ill, and might have been unable...’ He still could not go there either in conversation or in his head. ‘But what I don’t get is why his lawyer would know that.’
She was struggling to breathe and again she thought of that childhood game as Dante veered closer to the truth.
How hot you are, how hot you are...
He loomed over her with the sun behind him, the devil in black, but even as he neared the truth she did her best to divert him ‘Perhaps Roberto had to know what might happen if I were to get pregnant. It would have been a messy estate indeed, as we both know.’
‘Mia, you’re lying to me,’ Dante said. ‘Over and over you lie to me, and you’re doing it again.’
‘Dante...’ She loathed that she had no choice but to lie. ‘I’m not.’
‘Then why is your pulse racing beneath my fingers?’ he said. ‘Why are you trembling, Mia? And not in the way you were a few moments ago?’
‘I’m not,’ she said again, not knowing what to say to him.
‘Will you tell me what you know?’
Mia wanted to.
Oh, how she wanted to, but promises had been made and paid for, and what she knew might well blow this family apart.
‘Mia,’ Dante said again, his voice low with threat, ‘will you please tell me what the hell went on between you and my father?’
‘No!’ she said, her voice choked with the threat of sudden tears, for she did not know how she could carry this secret and forge any chance of a future with Dante at the same time.
And it was there, at that very moment, that Mia knew a future with Dante was what she wanted.
She loved him.
Not that she could tell him that, for she had to work out what to do with this wretched secret first.
But Dante’s patience had long since run out. He would not be waiting for Mia to gather her thoughts, for he could hear his helicopter making its approach. ‘If you won’t tell me, then I shall find out for myself.’ He dropped contact then, turned on his smart heels and stormed off across the yard.
‘Where are you going?’ she shouted.
‘I don’t have to tell you things either,’ Dante retorted over his shoulder.
‘Dante, please...’ She was running after him, suddenly frantic. ‘Don’t leave me here...’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ He shrugged her off. ‘We’re not joined at the hip.’
‘But you don’t understand,’ she begged. ‘I don’t want to be here at night on my own.’ But either Dante didn’t hear her or he ignored her, for he was already gunning the car towards the helipad.
A few minutes later Dante’s helicopter lifted off, and Mia was alone, with no staff, and no idea when Dante would be back.
If at all.
With rising panic, Mia dealt with Massimo and the rest of the horses, and then on legs that felt like jelly she headed back to the house, starting to run as she saw the darkening sky.
It felt as if shadows were chasing her and all bravado left when she saw that the little car belonging to Sylvia and her husband wasn’t there. They must have taken the unexpected night off as a chance to go out.
She really was alone.
‘Get a grip, Mia,’ she told herself