‘Not for a long time. Relax... If she shows up, I will deal with her,’ Dante assured her confidently.
‘How far are the kennels from your house?’ Belle prompted.
‘A ten-minute drive.’ A faint hint of colour flared over Dante’s high cheekbones as he met her surprised violet eyes. ‘I’ll look into rehoming the dogs. It wasn’t what Cristiano wanted for them but you’re right, it would be kinder.’
He wasn’t used to pets, having been raised without them, but her heart ached at the depth of grief and guilt that still tormented Dante. He was so very different from the man she had initially assumed him to be. His emotions ran deep and strong. There was nothing superficial about him. If she discovered that she was pregnant, she didn’t believe that he would try to pressure her into doing anything she didn’t want to do and that was a relief. She had had a friend once who had allowed her boyfriend to persuade her into a termination. Her friend had agreed in the belief that it would save the relationship, but it hadn’t, and it had taken a very long time for her to get over the decision she had made. Belle didn’t want to be put in that position, although in her case, she acknowledged unhappily, there would be no relationship to save.
The limo was travelling up a spiralling road with hairpin bends and, almost at the top of the hill, it turned into a lane. Belle was still twisting her head around to catch another glimpse of the staggeringly beautiful view of the Tuscan countryside, green hills and valleys studded with cypress trees, little pale stone hilltop villages, composed of houses with vivid terracotta roofs.
‘Welcome to the Palazzo Rosario,’ Dante murmured, and she swivelled back to be confronted by the magnificent mansion sited at the foot of the drive and her brows went up in stunned surprise.
‘You could’ve mentioned that it was a Palladian palace,’ she whispered in awe.
‘How do you know it’s the work of Palladio?’ Dante enquired.
Belle flushed and her soft full mouth compressed. ‘Why? Isn’t a waitress supposed to know about stuff like that?’ she snapped.
‘Few would recognise the fact at first glimpse,’ Dante told her wryly. ‘I’m curious.’
‘My grandfather had a great interest in architecture and a big collection of books,’ Belle admitted. ‘Growing up he dreamt of being an architect but, of course, it was just a dream.’
‘Why?’
Belle sighed. ‘When he was young, working-class boys went straight out to work as soon as they were legally able to leave school. It didn’t matter how clever they were. Further education wasn’t free, and it wasn’t an option. Grandad worked as an accounts clerk in an office all his life.’
‘But he taught you about architectural history,’ Dante gathered.
‘It was his personal interest. He would save up to buy these big books and then he would share the best pictures and highlights with me,’ she recalled fondly, thinking once again that she had been very fortunate in her grandparents.
‘I learned young as well. The palazzo belonged to my uncle on my mother’s side, Jacopo Rozzi. He was an art historian. He never married and when he died, he left his entire estate to me, which effectively made me independent of my family,’ Dante admitted. ‘I owe him a great debt for his generosity.’
‘Is that how you started out in business?’ Belle asked curiously, climbing out of the limo to look up in wonder at the long colonnaded frontage and the perfect symmetry of the rows of tall windows.
‘Jacopo invested in my business while I was still at university and got me off to a flying start.’ Dante looked down at her, the glow of her usual exuberance drawing him even as he reflected in bewilderment that he had never done so much talking in his life with a woman as he had done with her. She was so natural with him and he had not had that experience with her sex before. Even the attention she was giving the palazzo, rather than him, was outside his normal experience and weirdly annoying.
‘Belle...?’ he breathed silkily before she could rush up the stone steps ahead of him, a newly released Charlie dancing at her heels.
And she turned back to him, wide violet eyes bright below the tangle of red-gold curls on her pale brow. Dark eyes dazzlingly gilded by sunlight, he stared down at her and the hunger she incited surged up inside him with volcanic force. He pulled her into his arms, one hand locking to the back of her head, his fingers meshing into her curls, and he devoured her soft, smiling mouth with his own. Taken by complete surprise, Belle stiffened and then leant into the solid heat of him, the wild, ferociously sweet taste of his hunger melting her deep down inside to create a blossoming ache of need.
Distinctly dazed by that embrace, she stumbled when he set her free and it was all the encouragement he needed to sweep her up into his arms and carry her up the steps with Charlie racing in their wake and barking to indicate his enthusiasm. Belle started to laugh. To say that they made an entrance to the palazzo would have been to understate the case, for a group of goggle-eyed staff awaited them there.
Belle slid down out of Dante’s arms, flushed and embarrassed by his hot-headed behaviour but immediately soothed by the huge smiles that greeted their arrival. Their luggage was being brought in and she accompanied Dante upstairs. Only belatedly did it dawn on her that that seemingly spontaneous kiss had most probably been driven by Dante’s desire to make them seem more like a loving couple. It had been a public statement, nothing more. At that acknowledgement, the bounce dropped straight out of her step again and she scolded herself for believing for one minute that he had simply succumbed to an overwhelming passion.
The first-floor landing was open-plan to the piano nobile, the main reception room according to the usual Palladian floor plan. It was certainly a very grand and richly furnished space. Indeed, her brain was already whirling with images of colourful frescoes, classic statues and more architectural detail than she could comfortably absorb in a short space of time. ‘Do you use this as the main reception area?’ she enquired.
‘Only if I throw a party but that isn’t very often. I converted rooms on the ground floor for normal life. It’s a challenge because Jacopo left me a treasure house and I don’t like making changes but, at the same time, I have to actually live here, so it has to be made fit for purpose,’ he pointed out, following the luggage through a classical double doorway into a simply vast bedroom.
It was only then that Belle realised that naturally they would be sharing a room and that her nights of solo privacy were at an end, but when she laid eyes on the huge canopied bed with its incredibly opulent crimson-and-gold brocaded drapes, she burst out laughing. As if it were not imposing enough, the bed sat on a dais. ‘Please tell me I don’t have to sleep in that monstrosity...’
‘I’ll have you know that that is a genuine Louis XIV bed,’ Dante informed her with amusement lighting up his lean dark features. ‘And it is very comfortable... Look, even Charlie thinks so.’
Belle exclaimed in dismay, ‘Charlie! No!’
The terrier had searched out the most comfortable place in the room and had had no problem leaping up onto the bed and making himself at home there. She scooped him up and set him down on the floor again.
‘So, you live inside a history book. I would never have guessed that about you,’ she admitted truthfully.
‘My parents’ home
