His Fantasy Bride (Things to do Before You Die… #3)(2)

But once she left the stage, all bets were off.

…

Madre di Christo.

Vittorio D’Ascensio backed up and collapsed into one of the crimson velvet seats at the rear of the auditorium, never taking his gaze from the stage and the woman he’d come to find.

What the hell?

He would never have recognized her if she hadn’t fallen over and drawn attention to herself. Even then, it had taken long moments for him to realize that this was his Gabrielle.

It was inconceivable, as though the world had tilted, leaving him floundering and off-balance. For a moment it was as though he was back on that burning ship, struggling for air, in a world turned to chaos. He’d nearly died that night three weeks ago, and it had been Gabrielle’s image that had kept him going, given him the strength to fight his way out of there. To survive.

Confronting death could have a profound effect on a man, bringing him face-to-face with his regrets. Afterward, in the lifeboat, Vito had made a vow that he would find Gabrielle, convince her that he did love her, persuade her to come back to him.

He rubbed a finger over the scar that ran down his cheek from his eye to his upper lip—a constant reminder of that night and the vow he’d made.

Now here he was.

The loud music assaulted his ears, thumping in his head. She’d told him she was a classical ballerina on a hiatus as she waited for a wrist injury to heal. This was as far from classical ballet as it was possible to get. All the same, he couldn’t drag his gaze from her figure as she moved to the music. She was so…colorful. Gabrielle had always been subdued, tasteful. This woman was bright, like a tropical bird, in a purple leotard and pink leggings, her hair pulled into a high ponytail.

Six months ago, he’d fully expected to marry Gabrielle; she’d been everything he’d ever wanted…his fantasy bride. Then the night before the wedding, she’d vanished, leaving him a note, just two sentences which made no sense then or now.

“I can’t marry you. You don’t love me.”

Did she believe he’d been unfaithful, that there was someone else? But why?

Maybe he should have gone after her back then, but he’d wanted her—no needed her—to come back of her own accord. He didn’t make mistakes. He couldn’t have been so totally wrong about them. So he’d thrown himself into his work, every day expecting her to turn up and tell him she’d just needed time. But months had passed and nothing. It had taken a life and death situation to accept she wasn’t coming back to him. If he wanted to discover the truth, then he had to go out and hunt it down.

But he’d never expected to find this.

Watching her supple body dance in the fitted leotard that clung to the swell of her breasts, her narrow waist, the curve of her hips, his body reacted almost instantly, growing hot and hard.

They’d never made love. She’d always backed off, and he’d respected that, believing she wanted to wait for marriage. He wouldn’t have held it against her if she hadn’t been a virgin, but all the same, he’d liked the fact that he would be her first. It had evoked some primordial feeling inside him.

It also meant he hadn’t slept with a woman since he first caught sight of her all those months ago. Now, he couldn’t take his eyes from her. As he watched, she turned around, bent over from the waist, her ass facing him. She glanced over her shoulder, and he almost exploded.

This was unexpected. He’d always wanted her, but never with the urgency that now coursed through his body.

He sat unmoving for maybe an hour, thoughts churning in his mind.

If he confronted her now, would she tell him why she’d doubted his love? Would she have an explanation as to why she’d vanished without a trace, changed her cell phone, left her old address?

He’d been aware he’d rushed her, but he’d wanted to make her his, to prove his commitment—a commitment he’d never been able to give to any woman before. Had he come on too strong and frightened her away?

Something churned in his gut.

Fear?

Finally, the music stopped, and the dancers left the stage. He watched until she disappeared from sight, then rose to his feet.

Time to get some answers.

…

At least she’d managed to get through the routine without another slip-up.

A prickle ran down her spine as she headed for the changing room. Gabby made sure she was in the middle of the group. She was shorter than most of the dancers and hidden from view. But it also meant she couldn’t see much of what was around her.

Not that she wanted to see. She kept her eyes on the ground, but her heart was hammering.

Why was he here?

Why now? Six months had passed. If he was going to come after her, why hadn’t he come before? She’d presumed she was safe, and it was over—an episode in her life that she was totally ashamed of. But at the time she’d felt she had no choice. Hell, she had had no choice. She’d needed the money. Besides, when Luciano Scarlesi had put the proposition to her, it hadn’t sounded like such a bad thing. She was doing something for the family.

Her dad had married Luca’s aunt, Maria Scarlesi, when Gabby was seven. Consequently, she’d grown up on the edges of the sprawling Scarlesi family, and she knew all about Sicilian family vendettas and how the wicked D’Ascensio family had ruined the Scarlesis and driven them out of Sicily. Now she had a chance to help them right an old wrong.