A Moment on the Lips(53)

He was just putting his phone away when Carenza walked back over to him.

‘I saw that. You were making a business call, weren’t you?’ she accused.

He had no intention of telling her what he’d really been doing. The whole point was for it to be a surprise. And it was sort of a business call. ‘Busted,’ he said lightly.

‘You’re impossible.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I guess we’d better be heading back. It’ll take us a good half an hour to get from here to the Champs Elysées, and the taxi’s booked to take us to the airport in an hour.’

To Carenza’s relief, everything ran smoothly on the way back. They collected their luggage from the hotel, and the taxi got them back to the airport in more than enough time to check in.

Dante held her close. ‘Thank you. These past couple of days have been really special.’

He held her hand all the way back to Naples, and she found herself hoping that those whispered words hadn’t been her imagination or wishful thinking. A man like Dante, so used to keeping himself aloof from people, would find it hard to say those words. So he’d say them when he thought she was asleep, wouldn’t he?

Maybe she was hoping for too much, but the way his fingers were laced through hers gave her confidence. He cared. He just wasn’t used to saying it. With her help, he’d learn.

From the airport, they took a taxi back to her flat. Dante insisted on seeing her to the door.

‘Stay here tonight?’ she asked.

Though she could see in his face that he was remembering last night, how they’d made love in the middle of the night. Riskily. Without a condom. For a man so in control as Dante, that was a nightmare. And she knew even before he spoke what his answer would be.

‘Best not,’ he said gently, ‘but thank you. You made it the most memorable birthday of my life.’

And I could make every day like that for you, if you’d let me. Not that she said the words. She knew they’d make him back away from her even faster.

He kissed her lightly. ‘I’d better go. The taxi’s waiting for me. Goodnight, Princess.’

And that was it.

He was gone.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ON THURSDAY evening Dante arrived at his mother’s house with flowers and chocolates.

‘Dante, amore.’ Gianna hugged him warmly when she opened the door to him. ‘And you didn’t need to bring me anything.’

‘I know, Mamma, but I wanted to.’ He hugged her back.

‘So did you have a good time in Paris?’ Gianna asked.

‘Wonderful.’ Though it had left him yearning. Wishing for something he couldn’t have. Wishing things were different. Not that he’d tell her that. She didn’t need the extra guilt.

‘Happy belated birthday, little brother,’ his sister said, pinching his cheek.

‘Less of the “little”, Rachele. I’ve been bigger than you since I was twelve,’ he said with a grin.

‘I know, but you’re still the baby.’

And, talking of babies … ‘Is Fiorella still up?’ he asked hopefully.

‘Oh, yes. No going to bed until she’s seen Zio Dante,’ Rachele told him, smiling. ‘Especially as there’s cake involved.’

But as soon as he walked into the living room he could see that his niece was already being entertained. She was having a story read to her—one of her favourites, he recognised, and the little girl was joining in with the refrain. Though the person reading the story was the last person he’d expected to see: Carenza.

‘Hi,’ she said, giving him a shy smile.

Fiorella looked up. ‘Zio Dante!’ She wriggled off Carenza’s lap and ran to him; he caught her up and swung her round.

‘Hello, bellezza,’ he said with a smile. ‘Missed me?’

‘Yes,’ she lisped. ‘Renza read story.’

‘I’d better let her finish, then, while I help Mamma and Nonna.’

To his surprise, Fiorella ran over to Carenza again and climbed back onto her lap. Carenza was a stranger, and Fiorella was usually wary of strangers; and yet the little girl seemed to have accepted Carenza immediately. So did this mean Carenza had spent time with his sister and his niece? Or was it that Fiorella responded to Carenza’s natural warmth?

He’d never seen Carenza with children before. From what she’d said, Lucia was the first of her friends to have a baby on the way; and Carenza was an only child. As far as he knew, she’d had practically nothing to do with kids. Yet she was patiently telling the story, getting Fiorella to join in with the refrains, and using different voices for each character.