a motto, as far as Dante was concerned, they could not lose.

      ‘And do you enjoy your work?’ Bliss wanted to know.

      ‘I am passionate about it.’ One corner of Dante’s intriguing mouth lifted ever so slightly at the edges as if he was amused she even had to ask such a question.

      Bliss couldn’t help but sigh enviously. ‘I wish I could find a job or career I was passionate about.’

      ‘You do not like working behind the beauty counter?’

      ‘Are you joking?’ She made a face and moved the satin cushion to one side. ‘Sometimes I think I’d rather dig roads! At least I’d be out in the open in the fresh air instead of almost choking to death beneath the fumes of perfume.’

      Dante couldn’t imagine a more preposterous scenario if he tried, and nor could he understand the suddenly overwhelming urge to protect this woman from such circumstances that she would be willing to consider such an outrageous option—even if she was only joking. Those small, perfect hands of hers were not made for hard manual labour. No, he could think of much better uses to put those hands to, and none of them involved digging up concrete.

      ‘You did not go to college or university?’ he asked her, at a loss to know why she was doing a job she clearly disliked so much. A defensive look darkened her eyes and she crossed her arms in front of her chest as if subconsciously seeking protection from unhappy memories.

      ‘No, I didn’t. My family’s circumstances weren’t conducive to me going. I went out to work to support myself when I was sixteen.’

      ‘You did not live at home?’

      ‘Yes, I lived at home.’ Swallowing down the almost intolerable ache inside her throat, Bliss made a snap decision to throw caution to the wind and tell this man the truth. It was a first for her. Hardly anyone knew the real circumstances of her family life, not even her best friend, Trudy. ‘When I was sixteen, my mother took her own life. My father already had a drink problem and it simply got worse. I had to look after him as well as myself…then two years after Mum died he just walked out. All he left was a note telling me not to look for him. I haven’t seen him in over seven years.’

      Dante fell thoughtfully silent for a moment before speaking. ‘That must have been…very difficult.’

      Glancing up at him, her violet eyes flashing like little shards of coloured ice, Bliss shook her head.

      ‘No. It was horrible and it was hell but it wasn’t “difficult”. Difficult means troublesome or perplexing and losing both my parents in the space of two years far exceeded that. Anyway…I don’t know why I told you all that. I’m not generally known for spilling my guts to a complete stranger.’

      CHAPTER FOUR

      ‘I WOULD like to think by now that I am not a stranger to you, Bliss. And I am more sorry than I can say that such a terrible thing happened to you.’

      Instinctively Dante understood what it must have cost her to reveal such personal heartbreak and he found the respect he already had for this surprising young woman steadily deepening, moment by moment.

      ‘Well, we all have our cross to bear.’ Rising to her feet, Bliss regarded Dante’s undeniably impressive physique with a new wariness. Had she said too much? Would he question her reliability now that he knew she flitted from job to job and came from such an unsettled, tragic background? Feeling her spirits sink a little, Bliss knew she needed a diversion to prevent them from sinking even lower. A breath of fresh air before bed would be good—some time to regroup the defences that had undeniably come under attack as she’d been reminded of the sadness of her past. ‘I’m popping out for a while. Shall I take a key so as not to disturb you?’

      ‘There is no need.’ Dante’s glance was all-consuming and missed nothing. Certainly not her suddenly urgent desire to be alone to cope with the flood of sad memories. Straightening his shoulders as if to remind her of the innate gravitas in his bearing, he nodded very slightly, almost formally. ‘I will wait up for you. While you are under my family’s roof I am responsible for your care. But do not stay away long. It is neither right nor safe for a young woman to wander the city streets alone at night.’

      Fiercely protective of her independence—simply because being independent was something that had become a habit from a very young age—Bliss was about to snap back at him that she didn’t need looking after, but she suddenly felt too weary. The fight just oozed out of her like air from a punctured balloon, and she couldn’t bring herself to complain. Secretly, she also couldn’t deny that it was actually quite nice to have someone worrying about her for a change.