She pulled back slightly, her eyes glittering with anger. ‘Oh, yes,’ she snapped scathingly. ‘Someone taught me that only too well!’
Gabriel raised dark brows. ‘Then it will not surprise you to know that I prefer that we continue to dance exactly as we are.’
Bella was past being surprised by anything that happened this evening!
In fact, she was too busy fighting her complete awareness of the hardness of Gabriel’s body pressed so close to her own, his cheek resting lightly against her hair, the warmth of his hand against her spine, his other hand enveloping one of her own as he held it against his chest, to be able to concentrate on anything else.
Much as she wished it weren’t so, Bella was aware of everything about Gabriel as they danced. His heat. His smell. The warmth of his breath against her temple. The sensuality of his body against hers as he moved them both to the slow beat of the music.
And Bella was also supremely aware of her own response to all of those things, her breathing soft and uneven, her skin sensitised, her breasts swelling, the nipples hardening, and a deep hot ache pooling between her thighs.
This was torture. Absolute torture.
Nor was her discomfort helped by the fact that Claudia had spotted the two of them dancing so closely together, her encouraging nods and smiles showing Bella that one member of her family, at least, was totally fooled by Gabriel’s marked interest in her.
Bella pulled slightly away from him, releasing her hand from his as she deliberately put several inches between them. ‘I think we’ve danced quite long enough, don’t you?’ she said stiffly, her gaze fixed on the third button of his white evening shirt.
Gabriel’s mouth tightened, his gaze becoming glacial as he inwardly acknowledged that he had definitely danced with Isabella Scott ‘quite long enough’. Long enough for him to confirm that his body still responded to the voluptuousness of Bella’s breasts and the warmth of her thighs pressed against his. Which was all he had wanted to know…
‘Perhaps you are right,’ he said and immediately stepped away from her in the middle of the dance floor.
Bella looked uncomfortable at his abrupt withdrawal, and she glanced about them self-consciously as several of the other people dancing gave them curious glances. ‘You’re deliberately trying to embarrass me,’ she muttered irritably before she turned and walked off the dance floor, her cheeks warm with colour.
‘You expressed a wish that we stop dancing.’ Gabriel followed at a more leisurely pace.
‘Go away, Gabriel. Just go away,’she repeated wearily.
Gabriel looked down at her searchingly, the glitter in those purple eyes no longer looking as if it was caused by anger. ‘Are you crying, Bella?’
‘Of course I’m not crying,’ she snapped, her chin once again rising in challenge as she now met his gaze defiantly. ‘It would take more than the misfortune of having met you again to make me cry!’ she said scathingly. ‘Now, if you will excuse me? I really would like to go to my room.’
He raised dark brows. ‘You are staying here at the hotel?’ It was a possibility that hadn’t occurred to him.
Her eyes narrowed. ‘And so what if I am?’
‘I was just curious, Bella,’ he pointed out.
‘Are you?’ She gave a mocking smile. ‘I don’t remember you being curious enough five years ago to be interested in anyone but yourself.’
Gabriel’s mouth thinned warningly. ‘Are you accusing me of having been a selfish lover?’He sounded outraged.
‘No, of course not!’ Bella’s cheeks blazed with colour. ‘This is a ridiculous conversation!’ she added resentfully. ‘It’s time I was leaving. I won’t say it’s been a pleasure meeting you again, Gabriel—because we both know that isn’t true!’ she added before turning and walking away, her head held high.
Gabriel watched Bella as she crossed the room to make her excuses to his aunt and uncle before leaving, her hair long and gloriously silky down the length of her spine, the movements of her hips provocative beneath the purple gown, her legs appearing slender and shapely above the high heels of her purple sandals.
No, Gabriel agreed, it had certainly not been a pleasure to meet Isabella Scott again.
But it had been something…
Bella forced herself to move slowly, calmly, as she made her excuses to her hosts, Teresa and Pablo Fabrizzi, before leaving the function room to walk down the hallway to the lift, refusing to give Gabriel Danti the satisfaction of seeing her hurrying down that hallway in order to escape being the focus of his intense gaze.
She breathed easier once inside the lift, leaning weakly against one of the mirrored walls as she pressed the button to descend to the sixth floor where her room was situated.
Could anything worse than Gabriel Danti being related to her cousin’s fiancée possibly have happened?
Bella couldn’t think of anything.
Nor had she yet been able to think of a way to avoid being at the wedding tomorrow. But she would have to come up with something. She had to.
‘You’re back early,’Angela, Dahlia’s younger sister, greeted warmly as Bella let herself into the sitting-room of the suite she was sharing with her siblings.
Bella put her evening bag down on the table just inside the door. ‘I have a bit of a headache,’ she dismissed.
‘That’s a pity.’ Angela stood up, as tall and lithely beautiful as her older sister.
‘I also thought that you’ve been babysitting long enough this evening and perhaps you might like to go up and join in the party for a while?’ Bella added warmly, Angela having very kindly offered to take the half a dozen younger members of the English contingent of the wedding party out to a pizza restaurant for the evening, before bringing them back to the hotel and ensuring they all settled down in bed for the night.
‘If you’re sure you don’t mind?’ Angela smiled.
‘Not at all,’ Bella assured her. ‘The dancing has only just started,’ she added encouragingly.
‘Take something for that headache, hmm?’ Angela encouraged lightly before letting herself out of the suite.
Bella heaved a shaky sigh, taking several minutes to calm herself before going into the adjoining bedroom where her young brother lay in bed, the bedside lamp still on as he read a book. ‘Everything okay, Liam?’ she enquired softly as she paused beside him.
Her twelve-year-old brother grinned up at her. ‘Fast asleep, as you can see.’
Bella turned, her expression softening as she looked down at the occupant of the second bed.
Her four-year-old son, Toby.
His curls were dark against the pillow, lashes of the same warm chocolate resting on his baby cheeks, his lips slightly parted as he breathed deeply, an endearing dimple in the centre of his chin.
A dimple that Bella knew would one day become a firm cleft.
Just like the one in his father’s chin.
CHAPTER THREE
‘YOU do not feel a woman’s usual need to cry at weddings?’
Bella’s back stiffened at the softly taunting sound of Gabriel’s voice directly behind her as she stood with all the other wedding guests outside the church, watching the bride and groom as they posed for numerous photographs.
Hard as Bella had tried to find a reason for Toby and