Dante's Unexpected Legacy(60)

                ‘Certainly not. You wouldn’t fit on it and, besides, I hear Bea wherever I am.’ Rose made for the door, but Dante barred her way.

                ‘I cannot take your bed, cara. But there is an obvious solution to the problem.’ He took her in his arms. ‘Share it with me.’

                Rose opened her mouth to protest but Dante kissed her into silence. He held her hard against him and her body reacted involuntarily, savouring the scent of him and the pleasure of the contact with a taut, muscular, male body. He raised his head a fraction, but only to rub his cheek against hers and murmur in her ear in his own tongue.

                ‘I don’t understand,’ she said hoarsely.

                ‘Ah, but you do, tesoro,’ he whispered. ‘I desire you, Rose.’

                Desire, not love, she thought bleakly.

                Dante drew her closer, his lips against her cheek. ‘I think—I know that you want me, yes?’

                ‘Yes,’ she admitted, but pulled away, blinking tears from her eyes. ‘But not so much that I’ll let you turn my life upside down again.’

                ‘Ah, carissima, do not cry, or you’ll break my heart.’

                ‘Then you’ll know how I felt when you broke mine!’ Rose flung away and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

                * * *

                Rose’s second trip to Italy was very different from the first one. A chauffeured limousine replaced the coach trip to Heathrow, followed by a first-class flight to Pisa. The flight attendants were charmed with Bea, the females among them charmed with Dante, too, noted Rose acidly as she listened to melodic exchanges in Italian. She couldn’t blame them. Dante was so obviously enjoying every minute of his time with his child, and so far Bea was behaving so well it was hard to remember she was prone to the odd tantrum or two at home. She was delighted with everything, including the pasta she was given for lunch, but Rose, occupied with thoughts of facing Dante’s family, could only manage a cup of tea.

                ‘You are not hungry?’ asked Dante.

                ‘No.’ She managed a smile across her daughter’s head. ‘What happens when we land?’

                ‘I shall drive you to the Villa Castiglione in my car. Do not worry,’ he added. ‘I have installed a car seat for Bea.’

                ‘Thank you; how thoughtful,’ said Rose, embarrassed because she hadn’t thought of it herself.

                To her gratitude, the rest of the flight passed quickly, helped by a peaceful interlude while Dante read to his daughter until she fell asleep. Rose sat, trying to relax, but her mind kept returning to the night before.

                After her emotional parting shot, she had dreaded seeing Dante again this morning. To avoid him she’d showered and dressed hurriedly in the downstairs bathroom, and after getting Bea through the same process took the coward’s way out by sending her to knock on Dante’s door to say breakfast would be ready in a few minutes. She needn’t have worried. Dante had walked into the kitchen later, smiling as though the biting little exchange of the night before had never happened. But his eyes had smudges of fatigue that matched hers.

                Rose tensed as the plane began its descent. She wondered if Dante’s family would be there en masse at his house to meet them, or if she’d have a day’s grace to prepare herself while she explored the Villa Castiligione. A hand reached out to touch hers and she turned to face Dante’s questioning eyes over his sleeping daughter’s head.