‘Coffee, per favore, to wake myself up to drive. I almost sent myself to sleep with Bea,’ he added wryly. ‘I will come into the kitchen while you make it, Rose, then I must leave.’
‘Thank you for your help,’ she said as she filled the kettle. ‘I was impressed.’
‘I have helped in such ways before,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘Perhaps the little one’s nonna allowed too rich a dolce after supper.’
‘Actually, Mum’s pretty strict. But Tom isn’t, so maybe Bea conned him into giving her an extra sweetie or two.’ Rose smiled. ‘He’s putty in her hands.’
‘Putty? Ah, yes, stucco. I sympathise. It must be hard to refuse her anything she desires.’ Dante chuckled. ‘He will find it even harder with Charlotte’s child.’
When they sat facing each other across the kitchen table with mugs of coffee steaming between them, Rose smiled wryly. ‘I thought Italian men were spoiled by mammas who did everything for them, yet you were very efficient tonight. Thank you.’
Dante shrugged. ‘At home, when young, in Fortino, where my mother was very much in charge, I did little, I confess. Now I do many things for myself. After Elsa left me my family bombarded me with dinner invitations.’ He smiled derisively. ‘I wished only to be left alone but this was never allowed.’
‘Your family obviously love you very much—’
‘They will love you and little Bea also,’ he said emphatically and reached a hand across to grasp hers, but released it and got up when Rose stiffened. ‘I will go now and let you sleep.’
Rose walked to the door with Dante, her mind in turmoil. Half of her wanted nothing more than to creep into bed and pull the covers over her head. The other half, the part of her savouring the warmth and scent of Dante as they stood together, wanted to pull him into bed with her and blot out the world.
‘Tell me the truth, Dante—how do you feel?’ she asked. ‘Now I’ve told you about Bea, I mean.’
‘Amazed, but happy,’ he said simply, and took her in his arms. ‘I will be even happier when you are my wife, Rose. It is useless to fight. It is your fate. We were meant to be together.’ He kissed the mouth which opened to protest and let her go. ‘Arrivederci, tesoro.’
Rose watched him stride down the path to the car, then closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, feeling limp. She pushed away from the door in sudden irritation—time to stop behaving like a character in a romantic movie and do her nightly chores. She had work to do tomorrow. As usual. But maybe a day off would be good for once. She was well in hand with the accounts she did at home and had no visits to make next day. Her mother would be desperate to hear how things had gone tonight, so after she took Bea to school in the morning—so long as she wasn’t unwell again—Rose decided she would give Grace a full report over coffee.
To Rose’s relief, Bea slept the night through and was even more bouncy than usual the next morning as she ate her cereal.
‘I like Dante,’ she announced when she’d finished.
Rose’s stomach did a forward roll. ‘Do you, darling?’
Bea nodded. ‘Can he read stories again?’
‘I expect so.’
‘You like him, too, Mummy,’ Bea stated.