to stop it—something which never normally happened.
‘I am pleased Dante has brought you. It is always a pleasure to meet a beautiful woman.’
‘The pleasure is, of course, all mine, Bettino.’ Dante’s voice positively dripped with desire and admiration as he looked down at her, and the smile on his lips would have fooled anyone. As would the soft, desire-laden darkness of his eyes.
‘My other guests will arrive shortly,’ Bettino said, turning his attention back to Dante. ‘And after this evening I will make my decision as to whom I do business with. But for now I want you both to relax and enjoy the evening. I want to see the real Dante Mancini, just as I want to see the real Gianni Paolini.’
‘A very astute way of doing business,’ Dante said, and Piper wondered if it was only her who noticed his jaws pressing tightly together.
Bettino laughed and they followed him into the villa, where they were offered a glass of champagne by a waitress—a role Piper felt far more suited to.
‘Piper would prefer juice,’ Dante said, and pulled her close again, looking down at her. ‘We’re looking forward to being parents.’
Bettino laughed and clapped a hand on Dante’s shoulder. ‘So not only are you to be married, but you are to be a father too?’
Piper blushed furiously at Dante’s not so subtle way of informing Bettino of their news, but all thought was swept away as Gianni Paolini arrived with his wife.
He was an older Italian man who was nearer Bettino’s age. Beside her she felt Dante’s presence, and that unmistakable aura of power he’d had on the night they’d met in London. But would it be enough? Suddenly it mattered to her.
As the meal began the men talked around the subject of the deal, and Piper listened as Dante spoke passionately about his business. Her interest was aroused when Bettino asked him why he’d started his own business, and she watched as he seemed to square his shoulders.
‘I started as a teenager, clearing building sites of offcuts and soon it became a large and expanding company—one which I hoped would make things better for my mother, who’d brought me and my brother up alone.’
‘You have a brother?’ Bettino asked, and Piper held her breath, hardly hearing the meaningless talk of the other women.
‘My brother died.’ Silence hung in the air, suspended on an atmosphere that might have been sliced with one swipe of a sword.
Thankfully the two older women had begun to talk about the various regions of Tuscany and Piper joined in, eager to divert attention from Dante. ‘There are many parts of Tuscany I’d love to see.’
‘Then you must ask your fiancé to take you,’ said Gianni Paolini’s wife.
Piper thought her tactics had worked—until suddenly and inexplicably the spotlight was turned on her.
‘What do you do, Piper?’ Bettino’s wife asked.
Piper felt as if she was about to be tripped up, tricked into saying she was just a waitress—an unemployed one at that. Determined not to be outwitted, she drew on her career dreams. ‘Art is my passion. I studied it at university for a time.’
‘You didn’t finish your course?’ The question, full of conjecture, hung in the air, and to make matters worse she could feel Dante’s gaze on her now.
‘No, I didn’t. I moved home to be with my parents when my father became very ill.’ Saying it aloud brought all the pain back.
‘What would you have done with your degree in art?’
In stark contrast to his wife, Bettino’s voice was full of interest and, as always, she blossomed beneath such genuine interest in her subject.
‘I would have set up my own business as an art curator.’ She pushed back the agony of losing her father and focused on the one thing she’d always been passionate about. Art.
Bettino sat back and looked at her as their main course arrived. ‘We should talk later. I am looking to commission someone to bring this place to life with art.’
‘Thank you, but I couldn’t—not with a baby due in the summer.’
‘Nonsense.’ Bettino’s voice softened. ‘We’ll sort something out.’
Piper almost couldn’t keep the fizz of excitement at such a prospect under control, but she had to. She had to remember this was Dante’s deal, not hers. With a smile she was unable to hide she looked across the table at him, and the irritation or annoyance she’d thought would be there after that little exchange was missing. In its place she saw the same desire he’d had in his eyes as they’d arrived, but somehow it was more intense. It seemed to smoulder, and she could feel the heat across the table.
She blushed and looked down, hoping the conversation would take a different turn.
‘Do you plan to spend a lot of time here?’ Dante asked Bettino, and Piper wondered if that had been a deliberate ploy to rescue her. Whatever it was, she was glad that she was no longer the centre of attention.
* * *
As the hour moved towards midnight Dante placed Piper’s coat over her shoulders, pleased the evening had gone well. Piper had been amazing—she’d become the confident and vivacious woman he’d met in London. She’d held her own as they’d asked her questions which, from their earlier talk, he knew would cause her pain. He’d found himself drawn to her in a way he’d never known, eager to discover more of the woman beneath the sexy exterior, but he’d quickly dismissed that idea.
That night they’d first met in London he’d experienced mind-blowing sex with her, unwittingly taking her virginity and creating a child that would bind them together for ever. But that didn’t alter anything. No matter where she was or who she was with she would always be his, and even though he didn’t want to tonight he would have to watch her close the door to her bedroom and shut him out.
It was for the best. He didn’t want commitment and emotion. It was something he couldn’t do, because the few times in his life that he had, it had forced away those he’d invested in emotionally, locking them out of his life for ever. He’d sworn after Alessio’s death never to become emotionally involved with anyone ever again.
But with Piper that pledge was difficult to keep. She entranced him, made him desire her with just one of those coy looks she often gave him when she thought he wasn’t looking. When she’d admitted her lack of sight in her left eye he’d wanted to hold her and show that it made no difference to him at all, that she was the most desirable and sexy woman he’d ever known. He wanted more than ever to care for her, protect her always.
After the way she’d had Bettino D’Antonio practically eating out of her hand he wanted her even more. She’d been marvellous tonight, her beauty subtly shinning in a way that the vain women he usually dated could never have achieved. It had made him want her again, in his arms and in his bed. Before their marriage ended and they went their separate ways he wanted her—completely.
He lowered his head to her left ear, about to whisper how well she’d done, when she jumped and turned abruptly to face him, a spark of annoyance in her green eyes. It quickly faded as she remembered her role and she smiled sweetly
