‘You startled me,’ she said softly, before looking again at Bettino. ‘Thank you again for such an interesting evening, and I’d be honoured to help you locate any items of art you require.’
‘Thank you. I will definitely contact you regarding this matter,’ Bettino stated firmly, and for a moment Dante wondered what was coming next.
Had something been said or done this evening to jeopardise the deal? He’d thought Piper’s love of art might have clinched the deal, maybe forcing the older man to make up his mind before the end of the evening.
The genuine look of shocked joy on Piper’s face at Bettino’s words was so unexpected that Dante laughed gently at her innocent pleasure.
‘I will wait to hear from you, signor,’ she said.
‘Goodnight, Mancini,’ said Bettino as Dante put his arm possessively around Piper—not for show, as he expected she thought it might be, but because he wanted to.
He needed to feel her close, to inhale the heady scent of her perfume and feel that gorgeous body next to his. The thought of saying goodnight to her once they returned to his villa was not one he welcomed—not when the insistent throb of desire was alive in his body. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman.
‘Goodnight, Signor D’Antonio.’
Bettino turned to Piper and took her hand, bowing over it as if he would kiss it in a gesture suited to another century, sending a spark of jealousy hurtling through Dante as she blushed and smiled shyly at him.
‘Goodnight, Piper. I’m very pleased to have made your acquaintance. Your presence here this evening has been most welcome.’
‘Thank you,’ Piper said softly, sending a thrill of desire sparking through Dante.
She was a beautiful woman, inside and out, and a woman like that wasn’t right for him. But that knowledge didn’t curb the need which was pulsing through him.
That need and desire, which he doubted he could suppress for much longer, formed a potent cocktail as he drove as fast as the narrow roads would allow back to his villa, aware of her watching his every move in a way which added to the sexual tension swirling around them.
Did she feel it too?
There was no way out of it now—no way of avoiding it. He wanted Piper and he wanted her tonight. Now.
PIPER WATCHED DANTE as he strode across the high-ceilinged living room of the villa. The look on his face was intense her heart beat a little faster. He looked as if he wanted to devour her there and then. The same expression he’d had as they’d entered his hotel room in London.
‘You made a good impression this evening.’ He stopped striding and stood, leaning one arm along the cream stone of the fireplace, and she fought hard against the dark and passionate look which filled his eyes—and the way her body responded.
She couldn’t want him—not after he’d shown his true colours, shown himself to be a sharp and driven businessman who would stop at nothing to achieve his ultimate aims. He was using her and their baby. How could she find such a man attractive when all she’d ever dreamed of was a caring, loving man? He was so wrong for her, and yet being with him felt so right. Just as before, she wanted to be with him in every way possible, to risk everything and feel his kiss, his touch.
She certainly hadn’t been fooled by his subdued and grief-laden voice as he’d spoken of his brother at the dinner table. He’d spoken of how difficult things had been for his mother, bringing up two young boys. Such a revelation had come as a shock, but she hoped she’d hidden it well. After all, as his fiancée she would have known such things.
‘I did my best,’ she said now, and sat down on one of the large, comfortable sofas. She couldn’t stay in the middle of the room, watching him as if she were waiting for something to happen. She was certain that at any moment the tension around them would snap.
‘You were utterly brilliant and you won D’Antonio over. He loved you. He practically melted each time you spoke and you know it.’
There was a caustic edge to his words as they sliced through the atmosphere in the room and she knew right there and then that something had changed. It felt different between them, and she didn’t know what it was.
‘Telling him of your passion for art was a clever move.’
‘It is real, Dante. It is what I would have done if I hadn’t given up university when my father became ill.’
‘A well-played move, no?’
‘I should go to bed.’ She got up. The need to escape both the brooding man who dominated every bit of space in the room and the way her body yearned for his touch and his kiss was overwhelming. She definitely had to go.
‘Tell me about your father’s illness.’
Dante’s words froze her to the spot and she looked at him, still standing without a care in the world, so casually leaning on the mantelpiece of the fireplace.
‘There’s nothing more to tell.’ She fired the words defensively back at him as grief assailed her, rushing back so strongly her legs felt weak. She wanted to sit down, but doing so would mean staying beneath his scrutiny.
‘It would have helped me to know of such a detail before spending the evening with D’Antonio, trying to convince him we are a couple in love—a couple about to marry and share our lives—which means sharing our pasts.’
‘That’s something you too are guilty of.’
He pushed firmly away from the fireplace and came towards her, but she couldn’t move, even though she knew she should. The fierce intensity in his eyes struck fear into her heart, closely followed by anticipation. For what, she didn’t know.
‘But we are not really sharing our lives, are we, Dante? We are engaged to be married, and it is merely for the convenience of your business deal.’
Now all the worries she’d had about the future over the last week pushed forth and she couldn’t stem the flow of words.
‘What will happen when you get your stupid deal? Will you walk away from me, from your child, as if we never existed?’
Dante closed the distance between them, coming to stand very close to her, making her heart pound in a way she’d only experienced once before, on the night he took her hand and led her to his hotel room.
‘You don’t think very highly of me, do you, cara?’
He spoke softly, serving only to irritate her further. She wasn’t a sullen child to be appeased.
‘Your reputation isn’t exactly squeaky clean, Dante. What am I supposed to think?’
She wasn’t about to stand there and discuss this tonight, least of all admit how much she liked him—and more. She was tired—which, together with the pregnancy, must be the reason for her emotions being all over the place. It couldn’t be Dante. She didn’t want it to be Dante—didn’t want him to affect her.
‘I never go back on a deal, Piper. Ever.’ A firm and sharp edge speared into his words, and if they’d been discussing anything else she might just have fallen for it. ‘I needed to know about your father’s illness. It’s the sort of detail a loving fiancé would know.’
‘Very well.’ She flounced away from him, desperate to reinstate the distance between them. She couldn’t deal with the scent of his aftershave invading her senses, the heat of his body so very close to hers, and definitely not his dark penetrating gaze, watching her so intently. ‘What do you need to know?’
‘When did he die?’
Piper closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath,