Dante's Unexpected Legacy(80)

                Dante slid out of bed to take a handkerchief from his dressing chest and dried her eyes. ‘What can I do to dry your tears?’

                Rose sniffed inelegantly. ‘Just hold me, please.’

                ‘Always,’ he said, and slid under the covers to pull her close. ‘So why did you weep, cara?’

                ‘Because it’s exactly the kind of wedding I wanted but didn’t like to ask.’

                ‘Perche?’ he said, mystified. ‘Rose, surely you must know by now that I would give you and Bea the moon if I could.’

                ‘How lovely,’ she said unsteadily and grinned at him. ‘But a Hermitage wedding with our families around us is all I want—complete with our own personal bridesmaid!’

                Dante laughed and held her closer. ‘Bea will enjoy that very much, I think.’

                ‘She will,’ said Rose fervently, and then frowned. ‘Will your mother mind having the wedding in England?’

                ‘No, because she is so delighted that I am marrying again. And to please her—and myself—we can repeat our vows privately later before a priest in Fortino. But we must arrange our wedding very soon, not only because I am impatient, but so Charlotte can be there.’ Dante gave a deep sigh of satisfaction. ‘I am sure Tony will be happy to make space in his Hermitage schedule for his favourite cousin.’

                Rose smiled at him ruefully. ‘I can’t believe this is all happening. Pinch me, Dante, so I know I’m not dreaming.’ She hissed as he gently pinched a nipple. ‘I didn’t mean there! You’ll have to kiss it better now.’

                ‘If you insist.’ He sighed and then eyed her sternly as she punched his shoulder. ‘Be still while I obey your command.’





                                      CHAPTER ELEVEN

                THE REST OF their stay at the Villa passed so quickly in visits to Dante’s parents to ask their blessing, and to Harriet and Leo and the Vilaris to give their news, the day of departure was on them all too soon.

                ‘It seems a shame to drag you all the way to England just to take us home,’ said Rose the night before.

                Dante shook his head. ‘I must make sure you arrive safely, then I will stay the night in your bed and try not to think of all the nights when I’ll lie in this bed alone until you come back to me.’

                ‘You spent a lot of nights in it alone in the past,’ she pointed out.

                ‘But that was before I knew the joy of sharing it with you, amore. Now it will be hard to sleep without you.’

                ‘You haven’t slept much with me!’

                ‘Certo. Why waste time in sleep when we can make love?’ Dante held her close. ‘But it is not just the lovemaking I will miss. It is having you here to talk and laugh with, to share my life with you and Bea.’ He tensed as he heard a cry from his daughter’s room and shrugged on his dressing gown. ‘Stay there, amore. I will fetch her.’

                ‘You’re in Daddy’s bed,’ Bea accused tearfully when Dante brought her to Rose.

                ‘Mummy’s going to sleep here with me now,’ he informed his daughter.

                ‘When I get bad dreams I sleep in Mummy’s bed,’ she told him militantly.