She gave a dismayed sigh and put on her seat belt. “I wasn’t going to go with you.”
“Why not?”
“Because an inch turns into a mile with you.”
He considered that as he turned onto the main road. He didn’t take anything from a woman that she wasn’t willing to give.
“You didn’t call a halt,” he reminded. “I did.”
A loaded silence filled the interior. Everything else might be an act, but she’d looked as close to finding fulfillment as he had. It made her too damned tempting.
“You’ll be nice to my grandmother.”
“I am nice, not that you would even know what that looks like. For instance, when I come across someone who needs help, I help them.”
“I’ll withhold judgment on that.” Fagans were self-interested, greedy, faithless and deceptive.
She waited until they were almost at his hotel to respond shakily, “You realize that my father stole your schematics and research. I didn’t.”
He slowed to turn into the entrance of the hotel, then braked beneath the colonnade and jammed the vehicle into park before he swiveled to confront her.
“You still benefited.”
What might have been a wince of guilt dented her features, but the hotel’s valet opened her door and she turned away to step out of the vehicle.
Dante slammed out of his side and strode around to hand over his keys, then led her through the lobby to the elevators.
“Where—?”
He waved her through the doors that opened, waiting until they closed to explain, “Some of my employees are staying here. I can’t be seen dining with you.”
“Oh, but you can be seen taking me to your room? Employees here know me. Maybe I don’t want them thinking I’m some kind of escort. Did you think of that?”
“No,” he replied without apology, and was now distracted by the idea of hiring her for an evening. Of having the power to order her to do exactly as he pleased.
As if she was imagining it herself, and had her own erotic images painting through her mind, a delicious pink blush rose along her cheekbones. Her lips parted to allow a sip of air, leaving her mouth looking incredibly inviting.
The elevator stopped, throwing her off balance.
He caught her elbow to steady her. “Really,” he said, hearing how she affected him in the way his voice deepened to a graveled tone. “Your acting belongs on the screen.”
* * *
Cami jerked out of his hold and escaped through the opening doors, then halted to glare back at him. It was really hard to stalk away in a huff when she didn’t know where she was going.
He smirked. “Noni’s room is this way.”
He didn’t take her arm again, but her skin tingled. All of her felt as if it floated, yet the anchor of his mistrust dragged at her. She didn’t know how to prove herself to him, and was growing increasingly frustrated by the effort. If she didn’t have this lack of defense around him, it wouldn’t hurt so much, but it did.
“You won’t bring up your father. She doesn’t know anything about that.” The sudden grimness in his tone sent a shiver through her.
As if she enjoyed talking about that. Her throat ached, but she didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t believe she was even here, going through with this dinner, but she was nice and didn’t want to be rude to his grandmother just because Dante was clawing up her insides.
He paused to knock on a pair of double doors. A female butler let them in, mentioning that their hostess was taking a call and would join them in a moment. She offered to pour drinks.
Hovering with tension, Cami glanced around the suite. The drapes were closed, but she could tell it was one of the hotel’s best, with a mountain view from the picture window. If she recalled correctly, there was a Juliet balcony outside the French doors. The gas fireplace was glowing, and a small dining table was set with china, silver, crystal and fresh flowers.
She had only ever been on the service side of places like this. She had to fight the urge to strike up friendly conversation with the butler, whom she regarded as her equal, rather than try to find common ground with Mr. Tall, Dark and Daunting.
He was watching her as though he expected a misstep any second.
Just as she thought she would incinerate from the eye contact, Bernadetta appeared, coming through from the bedroom with a warm smile. She was small and plump, gray hair smoothly gathered in a round bun. Her color was much better, the lines in her face softened. She immediately apologized for not using her English yesterday.
“You were distraught. I’m so glad you’ve recovered,” Cami said, accepting the woman’s gentle touch on her shoulders and soft kisses on each of her cheeks. She smelled like rosewater and motherly love, melting Cami’s heart if not her tension.
Bernadetta greeted Dante with similar affection.
“Thank you for fetching her. You’re a good boy.” She patted his cheek, which seemed a ridiculously tender thing to do to a man who was so obviously a man.
Bernadetta took the armchair, forcing Cami to lower onto the love seat next to Dante, thighs almost touching.
“I’m blessed with a doting family,” Bernadetta said. “That’s why I was delayed greeting you. I’ve been taking calls all day. That was Arturo, Dante’s cousin. He’s in Australia, looking at a property, but he saw my post in the family group and wanted to reassure himself I was feeling better. He seemed to think your name sounded familiar,” she said, taking Cami by surprise. “Do you know him?”
Startled, she shook her head. “I don’t know any Arturos, no.”
The wrinkles in Bernadetta’s forehead deepened with puzzlement. “He asked me if Cami was short for Cameo.”
“It is, but I don’t believe we’ve met. Unless... I did live in Italy briefly, ten years ago. I was only fourteen and it was Northern Italy. The Alps. Not Sicily.”
Dante’s expression had hardened.
She licked her lips. She wasn’t the one steering this conversation into dangerous waters! “If I met him in passing, I don’t recall,” she mumbled in a rush.
Bernadetta leaned forward with interest. “What brought you to Italy?”
“Skiing.” Her conscience pressed like a bed of nails on either side of her as she said it, now a victim of her own censure, not just Dante’s. “My parents moved us there so I could train under a world-class coach.” One who had cost a fortune.
She looked to the hands she had folded in her lap.
Was her dream the reason her father had stolen from Dante? She would never know. But she would always feel it was a factor, one that made her responsible for all that had happened to Dante, her parents and her brother. If her father hadn’t wanted to give her that training, he wouldn’t have stolen the money. They wouldn’t have had to leave Italy and come back to Canada. They wouldn’t have been on that icy road outside Calgary that had cost her parents their lives.
“Downhill? You were racing for Canada?”
“And slalom. I was hoping to make the team, but—” She cleared her throat. It took all her effort to smile through the excruciating pain of losing so much. Her chance, her coach, then her parents. For a while, she’d even lost her brother. She had learned how to slap a glossy prevarication on harsh realities, though. “I was injured and couldn’t continue.”
“You don’t ski at all anymore? That’s a shame.”
“Oh, I do,” Cami said ruefully. “It’s a bit of an addiction, but I can’t do it full-time, otherwise I’d give lessons for a living. I offer private lessons to children when I can. It works out well for tourist families. Parents can enjoy the more challenging runs knowing their children aren’t getting lost or winding up on a run beyond their level.”
“What a lovely thing to do. There, Dante. Let me send you skiing with Cami, as a thank you to both of you for looking after me so well on this trip.”
Her pulse spiked. Oh, heck, no. “Dinner is more than enough,” she hurried to protest. “Honestly.”
“Pssh. Dante works too hard. You’ll be doing me another favor. I was going to ask him to take me up the gondola tomorrow, to force him to take a break, but after my mishap, I’m just as happy to stay indoors.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose on your family time.” She glanced at Dante, unable to read his stony expression. “I’ll be leaving for Vancouver soon, anyway.” Help me out here.
“Oh, when is that? My niece and her husband will be coming to fetch me Monday, to drive me into the city. I’m staying with them until I fly back to Sicily. We have more than enough room to take you with us.”
Dear Lord. Could she dig herself any deeper? Cami silently begged Dante to conjure an excuse on her behalf.
He only sipped his drink and said, “Thank you, Noni. I didn’t think I’d have the chance to ski, but I’d like that.” The cool, half-lidded look he sent Cami warned against rejecting the old woman’s offer.
Spend the day with him? What sort of sadist was he?
And what sort of masochist was she that she held out a shred of hope for...something if she did. Softening? Understanding? A chance to redeem herself in his eyes?
“That’s very generous of you,” she mumbled into her own glass, confused by her reaction. “Thank you.”