New Arrivals: One Secret Child: Mistress, Mother...Wife? / Wealthy Australian, Secret Son / Her Prince's Secret Son. Margaret Way
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‘Thank you,’ she answered softly.
Reluctantly he let go of her arm, even though touching her through the material of her dress made him long for so much more.
‘Perhaps while you make your coffee I could look in on Tia? I just want to sit beside her bed and watch her sleep for a while,’ he said.
‘Go ahead. Take as long as you like.’
* * *
Half an hour later, Anna opened Tia’s bedroom door to find Dante comfortably ensconced in the cosy slipper chair beside their daughter’s bed, his elbows resting against his long-boned thighs in his exquisitely tailored suit trousers and his body quite still. His avid gaze was transfixed by the angelic blond child who lay sleeping peacefully beneath the Walt Disney character-decorated pink duvet, one arm flung out by her side and the other clutching her favourite chewed teddy bear.
Anna needed a moment. It was as though one of her favourite made-up stories had come to startling, vivid life, and she hardly dared breathe for fear of disturbing it and making it disappear.
But Dante had heard her come in and, turning in his chair, treated her to the most disarming, knee-trembling smile she’d ever seen.
‘She’s so beautiful,’ he breathed quietly. ‘I don’t want to leave her…not for a minute or even a second. I’ve missed so much of her growing up.’
Anna didn’t mistake the catch in his voice. Advancing into the room, which was illuminated only by the soft night light glowing in the corner, she dropped her hand on his hard-muscled shoulder, silently thrilling to feel the sensuous warmth that emanated through the luxurious cashmere of his sweater.
‘She’s still got a lot of growing up to do, Dante…she’s only four. And children quickly adapt to new situations and people. One day she’ll forget there was even a time when you didn’t mean the world to her.’
Covering her hand and holding it against him, Dante held Anna’s gaze with a passionate heated look. ‘I want her to know I’m her father. I want her to know as soon as possible. Can you understand that?’
Gripped by the pain in his voice, Anna breathed out slowly. ‘I do. Of course I do. But we just—we just have to pick the right moment.’
‘Tomorrow when you pick her up from school we’ll take her somewhere for tea. It will give her and me the chance to get to know each other a little. But I don’t want her to be kept in the dark about who I am for long, Anna.’ He let go of her hand. ‘I don’t think I could bear that.’
‘We’ll tell her soon,’ she said reassuringly, seeing by his expression how in earnest he was about Tia knowing he was her father.
Clenching his jaw for a moment, Dante exhaled a heavy sigh. His eyes flashed like distant lightning in a velvet midnight sky.
‘Good…that’s good. Now, I think it’s probably time I left. We have much to do tomorrow. I’ll see you in the morning, Anna.’ His lips brushed briefly against her cheek as he stood up. ‘Try to get some proper sleep tonight, eh?’
The sensuous trail of his cologne and the seductive warmth that was the legacy of his lips lingered on Anna’s skin long after he had gone.
She asked if Anita could spare a few minutes to talk during their afternoon tea break. Expressing her usual amicable concern, the older woman kindly welcomed Anna into the office she shared with her husband—an entirely organised and smart office in comparison with her son Jason’s. Grant had gone out to visit a new supplier and wouldn’t be back until later, she confided.
She appeared much happier, Anna noticed—as if a world of worry had been lifted from her shoulders. Dante’s rescue package for the Mirabelle was already making a difference, she realised. There was no doubt in her mind that he would turn the hotel’s fortunes around. He was an accomplished, experienced investor, and even their sous chef Cheryl, and Amy and Linda the receptionists, were already referring to him as their ‘knight in shining armour’. She didn’t know why their praise and ingratiating admiration should put her back up, but it did.
‘What’s troubling you, sweetheart?’ Stirring her tea, Anita sat back in one of the three easy chairs arranged round a coffee table, surveying Anna with concern.
‘Am I that easy to read?’ the younger woman
quipped.
‘Not always… But for some reason today I definitely sense that you’re anxious about something.’
‘It’s about Dante,’ Anna began, her fingers knotting together in her lap.
Her cheeks flamed red when Anita raised a curious eyebrow. The casual form of address had slipped out, because he’d been on her mind almost constantly since last night. Especially when she remembered that look on his face and the tremor in his voice when he’d passionately declared that he wanted Tia to know he was her father.
‘I mean Mr Romano,’ she corrected herself quickly.
‘What’s wrong? I know he’s been a little…shall we say abrasive with you, dear—but he can be extraordinarily thoughtful of people too. He’s already won friends here. And when he’s talked to me and Grant about plans for updating the hotel he’s consulted our opinion at every turn. There are exciting plans afoot!’ Her lips splitting in a grin reminiscent of an excited schoolgirl, Anita all but hugged herself. ‘We’re going to call a staff meeting later, to give everyone an update, but as you’re our assistant manager I may as well tell you confidentially that Dante has deemed it a good idea to close the Mirabelle for a month while the modernisation gets underway. All the staff will get paid leave.’
‘How do you feel about that?’
‘We’re perfectly happy. Not only is it necessary, but it’s a great idea too. Grant and I haven’t had a break in so long. We plan to devote some time to our much neglected garden, and spend some genuine quality time together. You should think about having a little holiday, Anna…you work so hard and you and Tia deserve it.’
‘Maybe I will.’ Shrugging lightly, Anna wished she could hear herself think over the clamouring of her heart. ‘Look, Anita…there’s no way of couching this or making it sound less surprising…I’ve got something important to tell you.’
‘You’re not handing in your notice? ‘
‘No.’ Anna took a nervous swallow. ‘It’s something much more personal. You know I’ve never told you before who Tia’s father is?’
Anita stared, her gaze intrigued. The ticking wall clock suddenly seemed noisily loud.
‘Well, it’s—’
‘Yes?’
‘It’s