She had splurged quite a bit on this dress. “Splurging” was a new concept for Sabina. Only in the past few months had she had to think about how much things cost. She and her aunt had kept tight purse strings, but that had been too far in her past for it to be something Sabina still remembered how to do. But this was an important event for Carlo—the unveiling of his winning design and the announcement of the plans for the new building. He was the guest of honor, and she wanted to be someone he could be proud of.
And this was a world she knew.
The evening was important for her, too. It marked her first foray into the social world of Providence since she had been free of Auberon’s bonds. Both Carlo and she knew that the media attention on her would be intense. There were rumors that she had killed her husband. Some of the theories were wild and fantastical; others were uncomfortably near the truth. She had taken lengths to stay away from that scrutiny.
Tonight, she would embrace it. She was not afraid. She was not ashamed. And she was not meek.
So she had driven to Providence with Carmen and gone to Le Palais Providence, the chichi department store at which she’d once sold men’s accessories. And she’d bought this dress—a glittery, sleek, turquoise confection. It had slender satin straps, artful cutouts, and a subtle mermaid cut, accentuating her curves in exactly the right way. Auberon would never have approved of such an overtly, decadently sexy style—and Carmen’s eyes had about popped from her head when Sabina had stepped from the fitting room. She’d made a droll comment about doubting Carlo would ever make it to the party, and that had made the decision for her. She wanted to be a knockout for Carlo. She wanted to make a statement.
The dress had cost as much as three months of rent for her little attic.
She’d finally given up the attic. The house on Caravel Road was truly her home now. She kept her job, though. She adored Andi, and she adored being in that beautiful, fragrant shop, and she adored having a place to go and be helpful. Andi was teaching her to spin and weave as well as knit. Sea Weaver was the thing, Sabina thought, that gave her the sense of self she needed to be strong and ready to be a member of the Pagano family. It was a thing that was hers alone—and that was something she had not had before in her life.
Again, a knock. “Bina, I don’t mean to be a nag. But it’s a long drive to Providence.”
She set the hand mirror down. “All right. One minute more.” Her makeup was done—in her life before, she’d had someone to do it for her, as well as her hair, but she thought she’d managed well. She smoothed a tiny touch of body glitter, very subtle, over her shoulders; she’d always liked that effect. It made her feel magical to sparkle just a little, in just the right light.
She left her hair loose and simply added some product to her natural waves to give them extra shine. She wore no jewelry except the diamond studs that she’d been wearing when she’d run from the beach house—and the engagement ring Carlo had given her, a simple, two-carat square-cut diamond set in a plain, platinum band. Much smaller and less dramatic than the ring she’d pawned. And much, much more precious.
All right. She was ready. She slipped into her silver strappy heels and opened the door.
Carlo was wearing his tuxedo—the first thing she’d ever seen him wearing—and he looked beautiful. His evident discomfort did little to diminish his allure. She was bowled over by the reality that he was hers.
He took her in, feet to head, and as she watched, his face told her everything she needed to know about her choice of dress. If she made no other impact tonight, she had made the most important one. His eyes finally met hers.
“Jesus, Bina. You look…you…Jesus.”
“Good, I hope.” She was fishing. She knew she looked good.
“Breathtaking. Like something out of a fantasy I never dared to have. My God, baby.” He brushed his fingers over her shoulder with a low chuckle. “Pixie dust.”
“Hmm?”
“Nothing. Just having a memory. You’re spectacular.”
He kissed her lightly, then led her downstairs, where he helped her into a crème-colored faux-fur shrug. It was early October, and the weather had been quite chilly. Trey was in the living room playing some kind of card game with his grandfather—War, she thought it was called. Joey was sitting in the recliner, watching television. They went in to say their goodnights.
Joey muted the hockey game. “Wow, S-Sabina…You look…great. Beautiful.”