Dante's Unexpected Legacy(28)

                ‘It is not the dark secret. My aunt, Anna Fortinari, married Huw Mostyn, Tony’s father, but tragically they were killed in an air crash a few years ago. Tony is now managing director of the company that runs both hotels. His sister used to work in the business with him, but she married a Frenchman and lives in Paris now.’ Dante surveyed the crowd in the bar. ‘Tony does well.’ His eyes were sombre as he turned back to her. ‘I thought you would like to come here again, Rose, to the place where we first met. But this is another mistake, yes?’

                ‘Yes,’ she said bluntly, her eyes narrowing as a waiter arrived with a bottle of champagne.

                ‘Mr Mostyn’s compliments, sir,’ he said, and filled their glasses.

                Dante told him to convey their thanks and turned to Rose with a frown. ‘Why did you look at me so?’

                ‘I thought you were reminding me that I drank too much champagne last time I was here.’

                His mouth tightened. ‘Dio, you find it very easy to think badly of me. For which you have good reason.’ He lifted a shoulder, his eyes taking on the cold, hard look she’d seen before. The silence lengthened between them. ‘This evening is a bad idea, yes?’ he said at last.

                ‘No.’ Rose felt sudden remorse. ‘It’s lovely here, Dante, and a great treat for me.’ Oh, God, that sounded so pathetic. ‘But if you prefer to drive me home right now I wouldn’t blame you. I’ve been utterly petty and graceless—’

                ‘Because I brought you here, where we first met?’ Dante moved closer. ‘I hoped it would bring back pleasant memories. But perhaps all you remember is the way I left you so suddenly—’

                ‘And then went on to marry the fiancée you forgot to mention to me.’ To her angry dismay, her eyes filled with tears.

                ‘For which I felt great guilt afterwards.’ Dante gave her a pristine white handkerchief and then filled their glasses. ‘Do not cry, bella. We must drink some of this champagne or Tony will ask questions.’

                Rose dabbed at her eyes, thankful they were seated in a corner where no one would notice. She managed a smile and picked up her glass. ‘Has my mascara run?’

                Dante checked them out. ‘No, Rose. Those beautiful dark eyes are still perfect.’

                She raised her glass. ‘What shall we drink to?’

                ‘To more evenings together like this, but without the tears!’ Dante drained his glass and signalled to a waiter that they were ready to order.

                ‘You know, Dante,’ said Rose, thinking about it, ‘I’ve eaten more meals with you recently than with anyone other than Bea.’

                ‘That pleases me very much.’ He smiled at her over one of the huge menus. ‘What would you like tonight? I always choose roast beef with the Yorkshire pudding when I am here.’ He laughed as she looked at him in astonishment. ‘Davvero!’

                Now she’d recovered from their disturbing little exchange Rose found her appetite had recovered with it. ‘Actually, that sounds really good. Make it two.’

                Dante gave the order to the waiter then sat back. ‘Perhaps next time we can take your little Bea out for a meal. Would she like that?’

                ‘She would.’ Though Rose had no intention of letting it happen.

                He smiled and refilled her glass. ‘I also. I often take my nephews and nieces out, though not all of them at once! You must bring little Bea to meet them next time you come.’