‘Di preciso.’ Briefly English failed him as the truth of his thoughts penetrated deep into him. ‘Exactly. But if I do not secure my business deals then I will not have the means to give my child much.’
‘You could give it love.’
Her words smarted in the wound she was opening. One he’d long since thought healed.
Love was the one thing he couldn’t give. Anyone he’d given that to had gone from his life. His father, his brother... With the exception of his feelings for his mother, love was one emotion he could not do, because by doing so he’d risk everything. Love hadn’t stopped his father walking away when he and Alessio were young. It hadn’t stopped his brother from falling in with those gangs, and it hadn’t helped at all when for years he’d not even known where Alessio was. It certainly hadn’t helped when he’d discovered the truth of his brother’s death.
Love was a futile and wasted emotion.
‘My child, my heir, will have everything it needs—of that you can be assured.’
She looked at him, those green eyes smouldering with doubt—a doubt which beat wildly within him right now. Did she have any idea what she was asking of him with those words?
‘That is all I want for my child, Dante. The love and security of knowing its father, of being able to have a good relationship with him as I did with mine.’
* * *
Piper tried to push thoughts of her father aside. Now, in the face of Dante’s scepticism, was not the time to remember just how much she missed her father. The grief of losing him was still raw after all these months. It was why she’d sought solace in Dante’s arms that night, why she’d given herself to him—that and the powerful attraction which had sparked between them.
‘This is the contract.’
He pushed the papers across the table to her, his hand lingering on it as if he wasn’t sure he actually wanted her to have it. She saw the gold of his signet ring gleam in the lights above.
She sighed, not sure she should be signing anything, but she couldn’t stay like this, in limbo from reality, not knowing what was going to happen. At least this way her child stood some chance of having a father who was around. He passed her a pen and she looked again at his ring. It was engraved with the letter A. Was that the initial of a past lover?
‘One signature on each copy,’ he said firmly, pulling her back from her thoughts.
‘There,’ she said as her name sprawled across the line. ‘It’s official.’
‘Bene. Now we will need to purchase a ring.’
His words brought her crashing back to the present.
‘Is that necessary when it is only an engagement for show and a marriage on paper?’
‘Sì, cara, it is. As are a few other changes.’
‘Changes?’ Trepidation filled her. What else did he have planned?
He walked towards her, his eyes seeming to devour her, sending sparks of awareness all over her body, just as they’d done that night in London.
‘You have changed, cara, since we met in London.’
She frowned, taking in his words. Was she not good enough for him? The spiteful rejection from her days at school rushed back at her. Then, her lack of vision in one eye had been all too obvious, and some of her classmates had thought it amusing to taunt her. Now, after the operations her father had insisted she have, her disability was not so obvious. Although the ability to see with her left eye would never be possible, it was far less noticeable.
‘This is who I am, Dante, not the woman you met in London.’
‘I disagree. But right now I need to buy you a ring—one that will announce to the world that you are my intended bride.’
‘And make you look like a man with true family values?’ She couldn’t keep the barb out of her voice.
‘Di preciso. Now, if you are ready, we shall go and make our purchase.’
* * *
Half an hour later Dante’s car arrived in the centre of Rome, in an area which thronged with locals and tourists alike. The winter sun was warm and for a moment she relished it after having spent the last few months experiencing her first British winter.
‘This way,’ he said as he leant close to her ear, and his words sent a whisper of tingles down her spine as he spoke.
At least this time he was standing on her right side and she’d known he was there—although that wasn’t entirely a good thing if the way she’d reacted to his nearness was anything to go by.
‘I have arranged a private consultation with one of Rome’s most renowned jewellers.’
To her surprise he took her hand as they began walking through the crowded streets. When had he arranged that? With a sinking heart she realised that the father of her child, the man she’d agreed to marry, moved in a very different world from the one she was used to. He could just make a call and demand what he wanted.
Nerves skittered inside her tummy like erratic butterflies as he stopped outside a shop whose windows were a source of curiosity for quite a number of people, and she blushed as some glanced their way when Dante pushed open the door. Instantly they were greeted by a member of staff, but the fast-flowing Italian became too difficult for her very limited knowledge of the language.
‘We are honoured to be of service to you, signorina.’
The man’s English proved to be better than her Italian and made her feel a little less apprehensive. At least she would know what was being said.
‘If you’d like to come this way, Signor Mancini?’
Dante stood back and waited for her to follow the older gentleman, and within minutes they were in a small but elegantly furnished room.
‘I have followed your instructions, signor, on what the signorina prefers, and have arranged a selection of rings for you to view.’
Piper tried hard to keep the smile on her lips, to appear as if this was real instead of the nightmare it had suddenly become. She had to remember this wasn’t an engagement in the true sense of the word. Just as the contract she had signed that morning reminded her that their marriage would not be a real one. Putting a ring on her finger was no different from putting her signature on the contract he’d so insistently laid out on the breakfast table.
‘Piper?’
Dante’s voice, close to her left side, startled her again. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, trying to quell the racing of her heart—which she suspected had more to do with the man himself than with being startled. Quickly recovering, she gestured to the table and the array of rings set on a deep blue velvet display tray. ‘I’ve never seen anything quite like this.’
‘This is just the beginning,’ he said softly.
The darkness of his eyes shone with unwavering adoration and for a moment she was almost fooled—almost believed that he did love her and wanted nothing other than to make her his.
The harsh reality was quite different. It was not for any kind of sentimental reason and certainly not out of love.
‘This is enough for now.’ She blushed beneath his practised charm and when his brows flicked suggestively her stomach tied itself in knots and her breath caught audibly in her throat.
‘We should choose the ring now, cara, before I forget why we are here and kiss you.’
He looked at her, the intense blackness in his eyes smothering the caramel-brown she found so attractive. She could smell his aftershave and found her lips parting of their own free