Dante's Unexpected Legacy(90)

                Rose listened to the rapid-fire conversation, but was unable to pick out more than the word incinta. At least she knew what that meant. It obviously had the desired effect, since Dante thanked someone volubly and turned to Rose. ‘We will be seen immediately we arrive. I just need to check that the car is safe to drive then I will take you to the doctor. I will be seconds only.’

                In sudden need of fresh air, Rose undid her belt and got out very carefully, relieved to find her legs steady as she watched Dante make a long examination under the bonnet. She whistled as she saw ugly scrapes along the shining crimson paint. ‘How bad is it?’

                ‘It is cosmetic only. The paintwork is scratched but there is no damage to the car otherwise.’ He closed the bonnet. ‘It is safe to drive, I promise. Mi dispiace, Rose. Even when I was young and drove very fast I never had an accident, yet today, when I was taking such care, this happened.’

                ‘Only because some idiot was speeding. It wasn’t your fault!’

                ‘Grazie, tesoro. Does your head ache?’

                ‘A bit. Do I look a mess?’

                Dante pulled her close, his heart hammering against hers. ‘You are still bleeding a little, but you are beautiful, as always.’ He swallowed hard. ‘When your head hit the window my heart stopped. It is good that bastardo drove off so fast,’ he added, eyes blazing. ‘I wanted to kill him.’

                ‘Bad idea! I don’t fancy visiting my new husband in prison.’ She smiled. ‘Thank heavens Bea wasn’t with us.’

                ‘Amen,’ breathed Dante, and managed a smile. ‘Though I was not driving fast!’

                Rose chuckled then eyed him searchingly. ‘Were you hurt anywhere, Dante?’

                He shook his head. ‘A few bruises and badly injured pride only. I am mortified that you had to experience such a thing, carissima.’

                ‘I’ll live. And so, in case you were wondering, will our baby.’

                ‘That is good—but in that terrible moment when you hit your head I had no thought for the baby, only for you, that I might have lost you a second time, this time perhaps for ever.’ He blinked hard, but tears, Rose noted in wonder, hung on his enviable lashes.

                Oblivious of passing traffic, or anyone in the world who might be watching, she pulled her husband’s head down to kiss him fiercely. ‘Well, you haven’t,’ she said gruffly. ‘I don’t suppose you have a tissue?’

                ‘This handkerchief only.’ He gave it to her, his eyes smouldering. ‘That was a wonderful kiss. Do it again.’

                ‘Later,’ she said. ‘Spit!’

                He laughed as he obliged, and held still while she scrubbed a bloodstain from his cheek then gave him the handkerchief.

                ‘Now you do the same for me.’

                * * *

                Once Dante was sure Rose felt composed enough to continue their journey he drove her to the private hospital used by the Fortinari family. As promised, they were seen immediately by a doctor who asked rapid questions Dante translated for Rose while the cut on her temple was dressed. When it was established that Signora Fortinari was not suffering from concussion, and a scan later confirmed that all else was otherwise well with her, the doctor told Dante he could take his wife home on condition that he brought her back immediately if she felt unwell.