A tiny gasp answered his bald statement.
He shifted his attention back to the night sky and cringed. Why had he said that? What foolishness had come from his mouth?
"Dante." She moved with soft intent and he found himself with a lapful of woman. Taking his head in her hands, she stared right into his eyes. Her honeyed stare was deep and golden and filled with remorse. "Sometimes I forget."
"Forget?" he muttered, trying not to focus on her mouth.
"I forget you are a man, not a machine."
The ache grew inside him. "Jesu, Lara. The things you say."
"I know you are a man," she whispered. "I know, now, you have a heart."
Closing his eyes, he accepted her words. They were a balm to the ache, yet he wondered if it was enough. The ache seemed determined to persist in his gut.
"Please forgive me."
Would she ever forgive him, though? The question pushed at his mouth, but a curdling fear stopped him from voicing it. What if she said no? What if he had to confront the fact he'd ruined their marriage before it even began? What would he do if this ache became his entire reality?
Dante Casartelli lived for risks. Thrived on them. But this risk was one he found himself unable to take.
"Dante?"
"I forgive you." Placing a careful kiss on her mouth, he closed his heart to his fear.
The kiss deepened into a soft exchange of lips and tongues. A swirl of emotion he refused to define.
She broke their embrace and smiled at him with determination. "We're fine?"
"Si."
"Okay."
An awkward silence fell between them.
"I guess I'll go and finish my dinner." With one last glance of inquiry, she got off his lap and returned to her chair.
He wanted to push all this aside, he wanted desperately to get back to where they'd been earlier in the evening, laughing and enjoying. Suddenly, he remembered. Thank God for his newly acquired shopping skills.
"I have a present for you." Lifting a flat rectangular package from under his chair, he pushed it across the table.
"Another one?" His wife shook her head, but stared at the brightly wrapped gift with interest. One of her fingers played with the long pink bow perched on top of the box. "You give me too much."
"Hold onto that thought."
She laughed again.
Taking a deep breath in, he released every emotion inside him with the exception of one: pure enjoyment of her company.
"Go on." He sipped his wine. "Open it."
Her clever fingers made quick work of the fancy wrapping he'd ordered at the shop. She opened the box and rustled through the tissue paper, finally pulling the present out. "How beautiful."
Eyeing the confection she held up for her view, he congratulated himself. He'd spotted the pink lace camisole and matching thong in a trendy boutique he'd walked by on the way to a meeting. He'd thought of Lara. The meeting had been a total disaster, his concentration shot. By the expression on his wife's face, it was worth it.
"You like it?"
"I'm gaining quite a collection." She pulled the camisole to her torso, checking the fit. The fit would be perfect. He knew her dimensions, all her dimensions, by heart. During the honeymoon visits to town, he'd figured out his new wife had a thing for lingerie. He'd been happy to supply her every desire in this area.
"I have great affection for your collection," he murmured.
Another laugh. Her gaze met his, the honey molten and hot. "Why don't I go and try this on. See if you approve."
One laugh. One look. And he was hotter than he'd ever been with another woman. "I think this is the best idea I've heard today."
Chapter 18
She was going to be late to meet Daniella.
Lara glanced at the bedroom clock and groaned. Where had the morning gone? Dante had awakened her early, complaining he couldn't help himself if she insisted on lying on him naked. A man had only a certain amount of control. When he left and knowing she didn't have to be at the school today, she'd slipped back into sleep.
The thought of her husband and his randy behavior made her smile. She tugged the top drawer of her oak dresser open. Sorting through her collection, she chose a simple cream bra and matching panties. Her hand snagged on a plastic container sunk deep in the froth of silk. She stilled.
The pills.
It was time for her to renew the prescription.
She stared at the small box as if it would answer the dilemma facing her.
But it didn't.
No one had the answer to this other than herself. Did she listen to the strong voice of resistance to taking the pills any longer, urging her to trust him like he said he trusted her? Could she let go of the remaining resentment she still felt for her husband?
No. She couldn't. She wouldn't.
How could she possibly forgive him for forcing her hand? Her pride rebelled at the thought, yelling at her to keep going, keep making her point, keep sticking to her guns.
Slamming the drawer shut, she marched into the bathroom pulling on her bra as she went. There wasn't time to think about this right now. What was the use in thinking about it, when she had no clear answers?
Within fifteen minutes, her hair was brushed into a simple ponytail, her minimal makeup was on and the green linen dress looked pretty good with her new pair of tan sandals. Calling down to the desk, she ensured the car and driver were waiting at the door when she exited.
The driver jumped out and with a flourish, opened the limo door.
"Grazie," she muttered, grimacing as she climbed in. It would be so easy to take the bus, yet Dante was obstinate. He'd even made a comment this morning before he kissed her goodbye, making her promise to take the limo. Somehow, she'd never gotten around to fighting about the security. Something she should probably still be angry about as well.
Shouldn't she?
The bright summer sun splashed its color on the slanted tile roofs, tall stone walls, and tubs of flowers as they drove into Florence. Glancing at her watch, she calculated she'd only be a few minutes late to the bistro.
"Lara." Daniella's hand started waving when she spotted her coming through the door. "Over here."
Weaving around the small tables, she arrived in the corner and hugged her friend before leaning down and placing a kiss on two little dark-haired heads. "They're growing so fast."
"Si." With an expert hand, the young mother snatched away a waving spoon and managed to insert it, along with mashed banana, into a small mouth. "I'm sorry I had to bring them with me, but the nanny is sick today."
"No problem at all." Slipping into the seat opposite, she ran her hand across the bobbing head next to her, enjoying the feel of dark curls spilling through her fingers. The baby gave her a toothy grin. "I love seeing them."
"I was hoping to have a long chat with you about how it's going." Daniella frowned. "But with these two around … "
Sending thanks to the heavens for small children and the chaos they often created, Lara breathed a sigh of relief. She'd been dreading Daniella's questions since they'd made the date four days ago. She knew what her friend wanted. Details. Details on the honeymoon. Details on the marriage. Details on what she felt about her brother. Even though Dante was her older brother, Dani would have no trouble sticking her nose in.
However, there were no details to give her. She couldn't describe a honeymoon that was half tension and half passion. She couldn't give details of a marriage that at one moment seemed destined for certain disaster and at another moment seemed to be her dream come true. How could she possibly describe the details?
"Lara?"
Pinning a wide smile on her lips, she focused on her friend's worried inspection. "I'm here, I'm here."
"You weren't a moment ago." Dani didn't lose her frown. "You looked as if wherever you were was not a good place to be. What's wrong?"
With perfect timing, little Alonso screamed, attracting not only his mother's attention but a harassed waiter's as well.
Thank God.
Distractions continued through the lunch, much to Lara's relief, and quite clearly, much to Daniella's frustration. The two one-year-olds were not to be denied. They were the center of attention, from the surrounding tables to the admiring staff. When both of them decided to scream at the same time, she laughed at the harried expression on her friend's face and deftly lifted a crying Isabella into her arms.
The little girl immediately quit her noise, looking at her with a satisfied grin and two big black eyes.
Two dark eyes that reminded her of similar ones set in a very masculine face.