We’re very pleased to finally meet you,” she offered, and I stood up to shake both of their hands. “You’re one lucky woman to have a man like that all to yourself.”
I replied with a small smile, opting not to speak, because I would be unable to produce the right amount of false sincerity.
Alessandro put his arm around my shoulder and smiled with his dangerous charm. “On the contrary,” he mused in that rich drawl, “I'm the lucky one, Mrs. Carlisle.”
“And modest, too.” She glanced at her husband. “Can you imagine how generous he must be to his own family when he cares so much about our cause? I for one am not beyond admitting I wouldn't mind being related to you, Mr. Damiani.”
Alessandro chuckled while I paled and almost choked on a sip of wine.
“Are you all right?” Mrs. Carlisle fretted, as Alessandro patted my back, acting like a concerned husband.
“I'm fine,” I muttered, keeping my emotions in check. “Just touched by your kind words about my husband.”
She smiled, misinterpreting what I had said. “The compliments are absolutely merited, dear. Considering how many funds he has provided us with over the years, Mr. Damiani is a saint...a gorgeous saint, might I add,” she joked with apparent gusto. “Few people these days care about the misfortunes of the children around the globe like your husband does. If I were you, I'd hold onto him. There are many women out there who might snatch him away if you’re not careful.”
They're more than welcome...I thought to myself, but refrained from making any dangerous comments. “Yes...he truly is something special,” I remarked instead, unable to contain the sarcasm in my voice.
Mrs. Carlisle smiled with approval, but the true meaning of my words didn't escape my husband. His grip on my shoulder hardened in an act of silent warning that I was to play my part right or there would be consequences when we returned home.
“So, how did the two of you meet?” Mr. Carlisle spoke for the very first time that evening. “I hope you don't mind me asking, but I’m quite intrigued by the mystery Mr. Damiani has veiled around your marriage.”
I reddened and parted my lips to speak, but Alessandro intervened. “We met through a mutual friend. Nothing exciting like the movies, but I must admit that the moment I saw this beauty, I fell for her like a ton of bricks.” He shocked me for the second time that evening when he took hold of my hand and lowered his lips to my knuckles. “No other woman has ever had that effect on me. So she need not fear I’m in danger of playing away from the field.”
“Mr. Damiani, I didn’t think you were so romantic, but I guess there is nothing a man wouldn't do for the right woman,” Mrs. Carlisle spoke with unhidden enthusiasm.
“Indeed,” Alessandro confirmed courteously. “Her happiness is all that matters to me.”
Mrs. Carlisle's ecstatic gasps faded into the background and I focused on my composure. The hurt caused by those cruel taunting words was too much to bear. The piercing look in Alessandro's eyes told me he knew it, but he still didn’t let go of my hand and grant my silent plea for distance.
“Well, as much as I'd like to keep you two company, I’m afraid we have to move on to the rest of the guests. Believe me, they’re not as half as exciting, but unfortunately one cannot escape the dull sense of duty on an important occasion like this,” she excused herself, winking at me. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Even after they disappeared from our line of sight, Alessandro didn’t let go of me, and he snickered with annoyed amusement when I snatched my hand away. It didn't discourage him from asking more unusual questions or touching me in a way only a loving husband would. When he realized I grew tired of pretending I tolerated his advances, he kept his hands to himself and it wasn't long before he announced we were leaving.
Once we were back in the chauffeur-driven car, I was adamant to gaze outside the window and keep my distance from him. I hadn’t yet decided if this entire evening had been orchestrated to taunt me with the memory of my little sister's unknown fate or to perhaps remind me of what might happen if I forgot my place and tried to escape again.
“Would you care to tell me why you’re sulking more than usual,