he was much more comfortable with discussing something of a less personal nature than his sister’s well-being, Bliss followed him out into the corridor and into an exquisitely marbled bathroom that looked as if it belonged to some Hollywood movie star instead of a young, recently widowed single mum. Gesturing towards some shelves stacked high with perfectly folded, freshly laundered white towels, Dante lingered in the doorway as Bliss ran hot and cold water into a marble basin with Renata happily chattering baby talk into her ear.
‘Everything you need should be here. If there is something you cannot find, just ask.’
He seemed to hesitate as his glance drank his fill of the charming picture of tender domesticity that she and his niece made together, and Bliss felt her cheeks suddenly burn beneath his unsettling scrutiny. ‘What is it?’ she asked, violet eyes wary.
‘You are so natural with the baby. I am thinking that you perhaps grew up with lots of brothers and sisters, sì?’
‘No.’ Smiling as she dipped a face-cloth into the warm water, then squeezed it out, Bliss sat Renata down on the high chrome stool beside the sink and carefully and lovingly started to clean up the little girl’s breakfast-stained face. ‘Just the opposite, in fact. I’m actually an only child. I’ve just always loved children.’
‘But you are not married?’
‘No.’ Briefly glancing up at the frown currently drawing his dark brows together, Bliss shook her head. ‘And neither do I intend to be. Marriage doesn’t interest me much, Mr di Andrea. As far as I’m concerned all marriage does is engender false hope in a happy outcome that very rarely manifests itself.’
Dante’s frown grew even more pronounced. ‘So you would have children out of wedlock?’
Clearly recognising that he disapproved of such a course of action in a big way, Bliss couldn’t help laughing. ‘That’s probably not on the cards either. I shall just be happy being auntie to my friends’ children.’
He murmured something with feeling, in Italian, and Bliss glanced up at him reprovingly as she finished cleaning Renata’s face. ‘You’ll have to remember that I don’t speak Italian. I wish I did, but I don’t.’
‘Forgive me. I just said that it was a terrible waste that a woman with such natural maternal instincts should look forward to a life without a husband and children of her own.’
‘Well, that’s as may be, but I can assure you that nothing would induce me into marriage.’
‘That is a pity.’ His eyes darkened as Dante reflected that it truly was.
‘You are not married yourself, Mr di Andrea?’
‘Dante.’ Her question was so surprising that for a moment he struggled to marshal his thoughts together on the subject. The fact that his mother had been berating him for his single status for so long now came back to remind him what a disappointment he must be to her on that score. Business-wise he was one of the élite of Italian hoteliers, adding to the family fortune year by year with his natural and almost frightening ability to make money—but personally…? While his younger brother Stefano—his right-hand man in the business—had already fathered three children and had been married for almost eight years now, and Tatiana of course had Renata, Dante was still a confirmed bachelor with not a prospect of a bambino in sight. And nor would there be unless the most exceptional woman came along—one whose first interest wasn’t in how much money he had.
‘No, I am not married. I am—how do you say it?—married to my business.’
‘Oh.’
Just, ‘Oh.’ Not, ‘What do you do?’ or, ‘What business are you in?’ Just, ‘Oh.’ Did he hold such little appeal to this surprising woman that her curiosity wasn’t even provoked the smallest bit about what he did for a living?
Her attention already straying to a still-chattering Renata, Bliss drained the water from the basin, rinsed it out with some cold, then lifted the toddler cheerfully onto her hip again. For some reason that he couldn’t quite explain, Dante’s proud male ego felt ridiculously bruised.
‘All done. We can have that talk now, if you like.’
He nodded gravely. ‘Sì. If you come into the kitchen I will make some coffee for us. You have eaten breakfast, I presume?’
‘I had a cereal bar on the way over here. I never eat much in the morning.’
‘That is not good. Eating should not be such a casual affair.’
‘Of course, you would say that. You’re Italian, aren’t you?’ Her prettily shaped mouth curved into a playful smile as Dante scowled and he experienced the full force of her teasing with a wave of heat that frankly stunned him.
‘By that you are implying what—that we eat too much?’
‘No.’ Reining in another teasing smile, Bliss carefully weighed up her words. ‘I just meant that food is a big part of your culture, isn’t it? Food and family and…’ She was just about to add ‘love’ when she saw the corner of Dante’s too-appealing lips quirk upwards into a lazily amused smile. She was dumbstruck; her gaze was helplessly hypnotised by that sensually stimulating little gesture, so much so that a deliciously affecting shiver shuddered down her spine like little sparkles of coloured light shimmering from a firework.
‘La dolce vita. A love of life, sì?’
The way he said it sounded too sinful for words and Bliss couldn’t help musing that he was the epitome of all the things Italian men were renowned for and more. Sexy, stylish, charming, strong, definitely arrogant and jaw-droppingly beautiful…
‘Yes. That’s it.’ Embarrassed at being caught staring, she slid her violet gaze guiltily away. When Dante smiled at her again as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, Bliss wished the floor would open up and swallow her.
‘Come and have some coffee and some food, then we will talk.’
He turned his back on her and left the bathroom, his tall, broad-shouldered frame moving with a lithe grace that beautifully complemented the undoubted strength in every taut and sinewed muscle that rippled beneath his shirt. Bliss could only trail behind in awe.
’So, we have an agreement? You will go back home and collect your things and stay here with Renata and my sister until my mother arrives from Italy.’
‘As long as your sister is in agreement that I stay in her house and help take care of Renny. If she is, then, yes, I agree to stay.’
Dante sighed as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Glancing towards his little niece, who was playing with some crayons and paper on the floor, his green eyes turned visibly soft. ‘It is bad enough she has lost her father, no? And now her mother cannot take care of her.’
‘But this is only temporary,’ Bliss hastened to assure him. ‘Tatiana will recover soon, I’m sure.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’ If he was honest, Dante was very glad to have Bliss to talk to. There was an air of calmness and maturity about her that was very appealing and right now he needed that. He prided himself on his efficiency and aptitude in almost every other arena of his life except personal relations. There was always a discernible distance between himself and
