Rose shook her head and took a dish of roasted vegetables from the oven. ‘No, thanks. All done.’ She took the lid from the main dish. ‘This is chicken and broccoli in a creamy sauce, finished off with a Parmesan cheese gratin in honour of my guest. Please help yourself.’
‘First we make a toast,’ said Dante and held up his glass to touch hers. ‘To many more evenings like this.’ He paid Rose’s cooking the best compliment of all by rolling his eyes in ecstasy at the first bite, then clearing his plate and accepting seconds. ‘I hope you were not expecting there to be leftovers.’
‘No, indeed; I’m glad you enjoyed it. But no pudding, I’m afraid, though I can offer you cheese instead.’
‘I rarely eat dolces,’ he assured her, ‘and tonight I have devoured so much of your chicken dish I can eat nothing more.’
Rose braced herself. Confession time loomed. ‘In that case I’ll just make some coffee to take into the sitting room.’
‘While you do that I shall visit your bathroom,’ he said matter-of-factly.
She blew out the candles and gathered up the used dishes in a tearing hurry. By the time Dante returned, she had the coffee tray ready and the dishwasher stacked, and could find nothing more to do to delay the inevitable. ‘If you’ll just take the tray, then.’
Dante eyed her closely as he complied. ‘Something is wrong, Rose? Do not worry about little Bea. I took a look through her open door and she is sleeping peacefully.’
‘Good.’ Regretting the second glass of wine she’d downed for Dutch courage, Rose followed Dante into the sitting room and asked him to set the tray down on the table in front of the sofa.
When they were settled side by side with their coffee Dante eyed her expectantly. ‘After such an excellent dinner we should be sitting here relaxed. But you are very tense, Rose. Will you tell me why?’
‘Yes,’ she said, resigned. ‘I will. But I don’t know where to start—’
Dante smiled. ‘At the beginning is usually the best place, tesoro.’
She tensed at the endearment then took in a deep breath. ‘Dante, if you’ll think back to Charlotte’s wedding, you made it plain from the start that you were attracted to me. I was thrilled and excited, and so instantly attracted to you I drank so much more champagne than I should have. I was tearful after Charlotte left with Fabio. You comforted me when you took me to my room and you know what happened next.’
Dante brought her hand to his lips. ‘The entire day with you had been like the preliminari for me. Foreplay, yes? Allora, the moment I kissed you I was lost. I have no excuse for what followed. I was no schoolboy to lose control in such a way. But as the climax to that happy day, the joy I felt in your arms, Rose, was sweeter than anything I had experienced before. It was torture to tear myself away from you, even though I was in desperate worry over Nonna.’ He sighed heavily. ‘All that day I had banished Elsa from my mind, but later, on the flight home, I felt great guilt because I had not told you about her. When did you learn that I had a fidanzata?’
‘The next morning, over breakfast. Your friends were worried that your grandmother’s illness would affect your wedding.’ Rose looked him in the eye. ‘The word wedding hit me so hard I was numb for a while. Then my temper kicked in. I wanted to punch that face of yours until you weren’t so handsome any more. Denied the satisfaction of that, I blocked you from my mind instead, deleted you from my life and refused to listen whenever Charlotte mentioned your name. So she soon gave up trying.’