fact that Tatiana has basically had to cope with this tragedy by herself and I am working on finding a solution to that, believe me. In the meantime, until my mother can arrange acceptable nursing care for my father and travel to England, Renny and Tatiana need all the help I can provide for them.’
‘So you want to know if I will help?’ Shoving off the mulberry-coloured duvet, Bliss restlessly swung her legs off the edge of the bed and pushed her feet into her sheepskin-lined moccasins, still holding firmly onto the phone.
‘Sì. Will you help us, Miss Maguire…Bliss?’
He really didn’t have to ask again because Bliss had already made up her mind to accept the task. And if they made things difficult for her at the store to take the time off, she would see it as a clear sign that she really wasn’t meant to be there in the first place. God only knew what she was meant to be doing and she hoped that one day soon she would get a clue. In the meantime she would look forward to seeing the adorable Renata again. And if her thoughts leaned longingly towards seeing her handsome uncle again as well, then Bliss made no apology for that.
Tatiana Ward lived in a ground-floor apartment in Chelsea Harbour. When Dante had given her the address, Bliss had sucked in her breath and released a long, low whistle. It was a location that had at least a million-pound price tag just to sniff the air in that hallowed place—never mind live there! Thinking of her own one-bed flat in a notoriously run-down area, Bliss was suddenly struck with trepidation at the idea of accepting this unexpected job of nanny to a little girl whose connections were clearly in a different stratosphere from her own humble origins.
Bliss’s parents had never had much money. Her mother had suffered from serious bouts of depression all her life that had impeded her ability to work, and when Bliss was just sixteen her mother’s depression had finally shockingly driven her to take her own life. With her father already drinking his own life away, Bliss had gone out to work at sixteen to help support the two of them, but one day not long after her eighteenth birthday he had packed his bags and gone. He’d left no forwarding address, just a scrappy little note saying he was sorry for not turning out to be the father Bliss deserved and begging her not to try and find him. She’d long ago decided she had to make some sort of shaky settlement with her devastating past, but situations like the one she now found herself in were apt to test that decision to the hilt where her self-confidence was concerned. Her childhood had been an unmitigated disaster and nearly every memory she had of it hurt.
Now standing outside the front entrance to the apartment in Chelsea Harbour, Bliss determinedly reached down inside herself for some fresh courage, flicked an imaginary speck of dust from the sleeve of her short leather jacket, then, without further ado, pressed the button on the intercom.
’Ciao!’
‘Mr di Andrea? It’s Bliss Maguire.’
‘Wait a minute, will you?’
Even though he’d answered the intercom, she was unprepared for the sight of Dante di Andrea with a serious-faced toddler hoisted on his hip, answering the door with what looked like a very strained smile. Noting some kind of cereal congealing on the front of his beautiful white shirt where the lovely Renata had obviously decided to share her breakfast with her uncle, Bliss seriously struggled to prevent the twitching of her lips into becoming a full-blown grin. She was pretty sure Dante would not appreciate it. But even though he was a little less than immaculate this morning, with his arresting green eyes and darkly brooding male beauty, the man could still engender a small riot of appreciation from the opposite sex just by walking down the street.
‘Hello. Clearly a fan of oatmeal, I see. Shall I take her?’ Adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder, Bliss reached out for Renata. When the child willingly went into her arms, Dante murmured something in Italian that could have been either surprise or relief or both. ‘Come in, Miss Maguire. You have not arrived a moment too soon.’
The apartment was lovely—flooded with natural light, with maple wood floors and some very tasteful antiques that Bliss knew would have to look out once Renata really started getting into her stride. Leading her to a pair of long low leather couches with a glass coffee-table with wrought-iron legs positioned between them, Dante bade his visitor sit down. ‘I will change my shirt, then I will be back.’ With a wary glance at the little girl who was coiling her chubby fingers into Bliss’s shoulder-length dark hair with obvious fascination, he went out of the door again and left them alone.
Bliss occupied herself with amusing the child while she waited for Dante to return, her heart rate a little calmer now that she didn’t have to contend with glancing into those daunting green eyes. Lifting Renata onto her hip, she strolled across the wide expanse of beautiful maple floor to the window, gazing out at the vista of yachts and cruisers bobbing on the water with a soft sigh of appreciation.
‘What a lovely view you have, Renny. Aren’t you a lucky little girl?’ Then immediately remembering that the child’s father was dead, Bliss silently cursed her own tactlessness. But Renata was smiling up at her with those big innocent brown eyes, totally unaware of any dilemma, her chubby cheeks dimpling adorably as Bliss smiled back at her. Unable to resist, Bliss dropped a small butterfly kiss at the side of her pretty rosebud mouth and sighed.
‘It was good of you to come, but where is your suitcase? I understood from our telephone conversation that you were coming to stay.’
He was sporting another immaculate white shirt with his tailored black trousers, his dark hair glistening with blue-black lights as fiercely as a midnight sky with the light of the moon reflected on it. Looking vaguely perplexed, he focused his gaze with concern on Bliss.
‘I thought I’d bring my things over later. I wanted to come and talk to you first about the…about the arrangements.’ Her voiced trailed off because she was suddenly struck by acute self-consciousness in the intimidating presence of Dante di Andrea. Much more so than she had previously anticipated. She’d dressed in well-worn jeans and a fitted black tee shirt beneath her leather jacket—casual clothes she was comfortable in—only all of a sudden she had doubts about what was expected. Was she too casual? In view of the effortlessly stylish and handsome man in front of her, she couldn’t help but feel decidedly underdressed. Scruffy, even.
Dante was silently casting his eyes over Bliss’s considerable slender curves in her tight jeans and tee shirt, musing that she resembled a young Claudia Cardinale with her wide-spaced brows, beautiful eyes and unknowingly sexy smile. For a moment her beauty distracted him. He wouldn’t be true to his blood if he didn’t notice and appreciate a beautiful woman, but it had been a while since he’d experienced the fierce heat of arousal simply by gazing at one. Sensing the smouldering fire of attraction stirring in his loins as he stared at her, he thought how soft and inviting her rich dark hair looked floating loose against her shoulders and how much he would enjoy the privilege of touching it and letting it slide through his fingers.
‘I didn’t know…wasn’t sure what to wear. I’m probably unrecognisable without all that make-up, aren’t I? It’s unfortunate, but they make you put it on with a trowel if you work on the beauty counter. I can’t wait to take it off most days.’
As Bliss’s almost breathless voice petered out Dante forced himself to concentrate his thoughts more appropriately. He couldn’t afford to start lusting after the woman he had reached out to for help with Renata and her mother, no matter how aroused she made him feel. That would not be appropriate at all under the circumstances. He was a businessman, a hotelier with a respected reputation, and he wanted to show this young Englishwoman that she could trust him when he was around her.
‘You look fine.’ He wanted to tell her that beauty like hers would win her many admirers even without the dubious aid of make-up. In the end he curtailed
