about…about us.’ She glanced at him, her face troubled. ‘You’ve been wonderful these last few weeks, I know. I can admit that.’
‘Admit it?’ Alessandro tried to keep his voice light, even though he was a bit stung by her words, the reluctance of them. ‘You almost sound as if you don’t want to.’
‘I don’t,’ Mia admitted. ‘It’s just… I’m scared, Alessandro. I told you I never wanted to marry or give my life over to another person. A man. And yet here I am.’
‘Yes, but…’ Alessandro had to feel his way through the words. ‘It doesn’t have to be something to resist, Mia. We were both in agreement, I thought, about what our relationship could look like. Companionship, trust, affection.’
‘And not love.’ She spoke flatly, making him hesitate.
‘Have you changed your mind on that?’
‘No.’ She sounded disconcertingly firm. ‘It’s just difficult to trust you.’
‘Have I ever done anything to make you distrust me?’ he asked, stung again by her honest admission. What had he done to make her so wary?
‘Not recently.’
‘What is that supposed to mean?’
‘You spend your life taking over other people’s businesses,’ she said after a moment. ‘And sometimes that feels like what you’re doing with me.’
Disconcerted, Alessandro did not reply for a moment. Yes, in his own mind he had compared his relationship to Mia in terms of a takeover, although perhaps a merger was a better way of putting it, but it wasn’t hostile. At least, it didn’t have to be.
‘I thought you’d agreed this was best for Ella. And I thought you’d enjoyed the last few weeks.’ He couldn’t keep an edge of affront from entering his voice. It was hardly as if he’d kept her in prison. ‘Please believe me, Mia, I am not trying to force you into anything.’
‘There are more ways to force someone than strong-arm them.’
‘What are you trying to say?’
‘I don’t know,’ Mia said helplessly. ‘Like I said, I’m scared, Alessandro. You can be ruthless. I know you like to be in control. I understand why you do, but those things scare me.’
‘I am hardly going to be ruthless with my family.’
‘How do you even know that? You’ve kept yourself from relationships for so long. Do you even know how to be in a family relationship, one that isn’t driven by anger or revenge?’
Hurt flashed through him at her words. ‘I can try,’ he said quietly, and her face crumpled a little bit.
‘Do you really want to?’
‘Of course I do,’ he snapped, but he heard the anger in his voice and he knew it was wrong. He just didn’t know how to show her how he felt. How much he felt. ‘I know I like to be in control. But I’m not dictating things to you, Mia. I’m trying to have a real relationship with you, even if I don’t understand yet all that it means.’ He felt far too vulnerable having admitted that much, and so he pressed his lips together and stayed silent.
‘I’m sorry.’ She smiled sadly. ‘And I need to try, too. I’m sorry I’m so reluctant. It’s just…’ She paused, and he waited, sensing she was going to say something more. But then she sighed and shook her head. ‘I’d better go and choose my dress.’ Her lips twisted wryly. ‘That’s at least one choice I can make.’
The stylist arrived a short while later, and Alessandro busied himself with work while the stylist and her assistants commandeered the bedroom for their beautifying purposes.
As he half listened to the sound of the women chatting in the next room, he found he could not focus on the work in front of him. He kept going over his conversation with Mia in his mind, as if testing it for weaknesses. Why was Mia so wary with him still? What more could he do to gain her trust? He felt as if she questioned his every motive, which made him question them, as well. Was he doing the right thing?
Of course he was. For Ella’s sake as well as theirs. He just needed to be more patient. Perhaps Mia just needed more time.
Still, he couldn’t keep from feeling a flicker of irritation along with hurt. He’d been trying so hard for the last few weeks, and he’d given Mia everything. What possible cause could she really have to complain? So he liked to be in control. That was hardly the worst thing, was it? It wasn’t as if he was abusing his position of power, or forcing her to do something against her will.
Her reluctance annoyed him, but it also made him even more determined. He would win her yet. Whatever aspect of their inevitable relationship Mia was resisting, Alessandro would discover it and deal with it.
Which, he realised uncomfortably, did make this all seem a bit like the takeover she’d suggested. But it wasn’t, not like that. It was just…strategy. Common sense.
He slid his hand into the pocket of his jacket, his fingers curling around the small black velvet box. Nothing, he told himself. Mia would find fault with nothing. He’d make sure of it.
An hour later, Alessandro had changed into a tuxedo and was waiting for Mia in the living room of the suite, trying to curb his impatience. It felt as if she’d been in the bedroom for ages, and he’d heard the chatter and giggles drift out as he’d wondered just how long it took to find a dress.
‘She’s ready,’ the stylist, Elena, sang out as she came into the living room, followed by her bevy of assistants. ‘And she’s perfect.’ She simpered at Alessandro before she thankfully excused herself, her assistants following, so Alessandro and Mia would be alone. He would be sent the undoubtedly outrageous bill later.
‘Mia…?’ Alessandro called when she still hadn’t come out after Elena had left. ‘Are you coming?’
‘Yes. Sorry.’ With a nervous little laugh, she stepped out of the bedroom. Alessandro sucked in his breath. He’d already seen her in an evening gown, a year ago, when he’d lost his head over the slender woman dancing in his arms.
Tonight he felt himself lose everything else. His mind emptied and his heart tumbled in his chest as Mia smiled uncertainly. ‘Do you…do you like it?’
‘I love it,’ he assured her huskily. The gown was a pale, creamy ivory, with a delicate overlay of gold lace. Strapless, with a full skirt, it reminded him of a wedding dress, and that seemed appropriate indeed. ‘Your hair…’ he murmured, coming forward to loop one golden curl around his finger.
‘She curled it,’ Mia said nervously. ‘I’ve never had curly hair before.’
‘It’s gorgeous.’ Half being pinned up, the other half tumbled over her shoulders in glossy, golden waves and curls. Gently, his finger still twined in her hair, Alessandro tugged her towards him. Mia came, a smile trembling on her lips.
‘Alessandro…’
‘You’re so beautiful, Mia. Even more beautiful now that you’re a mother.’
‘No…’ She let out an uncertain laugh.
