by Maggie Cox
‘I am sorry you have been so sick in the mornings, Bliss,’ Sandrine started to say. ‘But don’t worry, it will most probably subside in around five or six weeks or so. In the meantime I suggest you keep to a good, fresh diet and get lots of rest. I will give you a very good homeopathic remedy to help ease the discomfort a little. The instructions for taking them are on the label.’ She placed a little coffee-coloured tube on the table filled with small white tablets. ‘Other than that, I have to say you are in very good shape and should be able to look forward to a healthy and happy pregnancy.’
‘Thank God!’ Dante didn’t think twice about reaching for Bliss’s small hand and capturing it in his own. He curled his long bronzed fingers around hers and breathed an audible sigh of relief. Bliss herself suddenly found she was hardly capable of breathing at all. Was this what it might feel like to be loved and cherished? To have someone who cared for you demonstrate that your well-being was paramount? The thought planted itself in her mind before she could stop it and then cold reality hit like ice water as it occurred to her that Dante was only thinking of the baby’s welfare and not hers. Pulling her hand free, Bliss tried not to glance at the genuine surprise crossing his face.
‘Having said that, my dear, I do have a prescription to offer you, and that is that you let your wonderful husband-to-be take you home to Italy for a holiday. Isabella will be in seventh heaven fussing around her prospective daughter-in-law and you will get a much-needed rest, Bliss. Come back and see me after the wedding, yes?’
Finding herself nodding because in the face of Sandrine Lantain’s sunny, confident smile she thought it rude to do otherwise, Bliss got to her feet, then tried to quell her jealousy as Dante kissed the obstetrician on both cheeks and bid her goodbye. When they were outside again, the dignified London street bathed in untypical sunshine, Dante paused for a moment to tilt Bliss’s still-defiant chin towards him. Glancing into the surprise reflected in her beautiful violet eyes, he felt something warm and emphatic settle deep inside him that confirmed he was absolutely right to dictate what he was about to dictate—even though she clearly resented his taking over her life.
‘Sandrine is right,’ he announced, his words measured and precise. ‘You do need a holiday. After we have arranged our marriage this afternoon at the register office, I am booking us on a flight to Milan. My parents have a villa in the countryside in Varese and I think it will be the perfect place for you to relax, as well as a good opportunity to meet them. If we are too late tonight to drive to the villa, then we will stay at my apartment in the city and make the drive tomorrow morning to Varese. I think you should know right now that I will not be taking no for an answer.’
Bliss felt a shiver run through her at the idea of travelling to Italy with Dante to meet his parents, and her inclination to argue died away like morning mist dispersing to let the sun shine through. Why shouldn’t she enjoy a short break away from her day-to-day concerns? Dante was right. He and his doctor friend were both right. Opportunities for going on holiday had always been few and far between and, in truth, with all that had happened, she was in desperate need of one. Overriding her indignation that he seemed to be organising her life with or without her consent, Bliss feebly tried for a smile to acknowledge her agreement. But with Dante’s hand caressing her shoulder and his seductive male heat infiltrating her blood, making her feel as heady as if she’d been drinking wine, she couldn’t swear that she managed to pull the gesture off.
The effusive Italian voice on the radio drifted in and out of Bliss’s consciousness as they drove through the night, Dante’s confident, masterful manoeuvring of the luxurious Alfa Romeo car making their journey as smooth and as comfortable as flowing silk on the moonlit Italian roads. It seemed they were making the journey to Varese tonight after all and Bliss had tried to stem the wave of apprehension that flowed over her at this information, fear kicking in like a powerful narcotic in case her introduction to Dante’s parents did not go well. How would they receive a girl they had never met before, who had appeared out of nowhere? What if they’d already had some nice little rich girl all lined up for their precious eldest son and were angry that Bliss had fallen pregnant with Dante’s baby and ruined their hoped-for plans? As her anxious thoughts tumbled over one another, finally forcing her to open her eyes and make her shift in her seat, Dante glanced across at her, the concern in his eyes showing plainly for a second beneath the bright glare of a passing car’s headlamps. ‘What is wrong? You are feeling unwell, perhaps? I can stop the car if you need me to.’
Reaching for the bottle of water she’d put down by her feet, Bliss shook her head. ‘I just needed a drink, that’s all. Would you like some?’ She took a swig and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Per amor del cielo! How was it possible that she made the most simple gesture seem as though she were deliberately provoking him? Dante concentrated all his efforts to try and ignore the heat that throbbed fiercely through his veins like a rich, full-bodied Chianti, but it wasn’t easy. Not when Bliss Maguire had the lushest, most ripely seductive mouth he had personally ever encountered. It was becoming more and more difficult for him to focus solely on her comfort and welfare when his own—perhaps more base—needs begged to be sated. With her dark hair tousled from sleep and travelling, her enormous lavender eyes regarding him sleepily and the moisture from the water she’d just imbibed glistening like dew on her mouth, just looking at her was the sweetest torture a tormentor could devise. Deliberately forcing himself to concentrate on the grey strip that curved narrowly round a hillside in front of him, Dante tried not to think about having her strip down to her skin and sharing his bed tonight. Because if he had any say in the matter at all, that was just how he intended it was going to be.
‘Another hour and we should be there. No doubt Isabella will be waiting up to greet us.’
‘Isabella? You mean your mother?’
‘Sì. My mother.’ Unable to stop himself from smiling at the thought of the woman who had raised him, Dante stole another glance at Bliss. ‘She told me she cannot wait until tomorrow morning to meet you. My papà, on the other hand, has to go to bed early since his illness.’
Dante had told her on the flight out that his father Antonio was suffering from heart disease. Bliss had not missed the flash of fear in his troubled green eyes when he’d confided this information and her heart had hurt to imagine the pain this must cause him.
‘Dante, you haven’t told me how it will be. I mean, what must your parents think of you bringing a strange woman back home with you from England? Not to mention the fact that I’m pregnant.’
‘Sì. Pregnant with my bambino.’ His gaze was quick to seek out her still-flat stomach beneath her long linen skirt, hotly possessive and proud that this beautiful woman and her expected baby were both his. His bronzed fingers curved tightly round the leather steering wheel. ‘You want to know how it will be, cara? They are happy that they are going to meet the beautiful girl who is to be their new daughter-in-law. My family have been wanting my marriage for years and now they are going to get what they wish for.’
‘And they won’t mind that I am not Italian, like you?’
Her innocent question caused such a spasm of shocked surprise inside his chest that Dante’s jaw suddenly clenched hard as if to ward off unwanted, familiar feelings of somehow being a usurper in his own family. An outsider…He wanted to reveal to Bliss the secret he had not shared with her yet—that he had more in common with her own ancestry than she suspected. But part of him did not want to betray his father’s past pain and, if he was honest, neither did he want to reveal his own. Now was not the time to tell Bliss that he was the result of Antonio’s love affair. She had enough to contend with, with the prospect of meeting her new family. And besides, his own story might only add to her fears of not being accepted. Dante could appreciate her trepidation, but if his recent telephone conversation with Isabella had been any true indication of his parents’ feelings, their happiness a
nd enthusiasm at the announcement of his marriage would soon sweep away any reservations Bliss might be harbouring.
‘No. They do not mind that you are not Italian. I can guarantee you that, at least.’
‘Dante! Mio figlio più amato! How wonderful to see you.’
As Dante was enveloped in the waiting arms of his mother, Isabella, he couldn’t deny the spurt of warmth that flooded his insides at her words. ‘My most beloved son,’ she’d called him, and no matter how many times she said it, it still had the power to unravel him a little emotionally. As he regarded the fragrant stucco porch scented heavily with flowering jasmine and his mother’s small, rotund figure back-lit by the pool of light flowing out from the large rectangular hall inside, Dante couldn’t deny the hope in his heart that this time he could lay his doubts to rest and truly be glad to be back home. That this time he would really feel accepted, with no distrust in his mind that he was not as loved or well thought of as Stefano and Tatiana. Perhaps the advent of the pretty, yet reserved woman by his side, soon to be his wife and the mother of his child, would help herald a new dawn of peace in his heart?
‘Mamma. You should not have waited up so late, you look tired.’ He kissed Isabella on both cheeks, his hand lingering a little on her shoulder as she smilingly waved him away to fix her gaze on the so-far-silent Bliss.
‘Welcome, daughter. Come here into the light so that I can see you.’
Every muscle in her body clenched tight with apprehension, Bliss moved to Dante’s side, comforted when he briefly grazed her fingers with his own as if to reassure her that everything was going to be all right. Her first impression of Isabella di Andrea was that the woman, though small and full figured, had the most beautifully arresting face, with sparkling eyes the same riveting blue as Tatiana’s, curly chestnut hair and the smile of a proud mamma whose children and family were the very soul of her being. Immediately the tension in Bliss’s body started to ease. It touched her that Isabella had called her ‘daughter’. The woman didn’t yet know her, yet she had welcomed her with an endearment that immediately told Bliss that she was more than willing to take her into her heart because she was marrying her precious son.
‘I am very pleased to meet you, Mrs di Andrea.’
‘Ay, ay, ay! I am Mamma, sì? And you are now my new daughter along with Tatiana and Monica—Stefano’s wife.’ Without further preamble, Isabella pulled Bliss’s slender body against hers, then, setting her slightly apart, delivered two resounding kisses, one on each cheek. ‘My son was right. He said you were molto bella and I see he did not tell a lie. But I must not keep you standing out here all night. When you are with child it is important to rest as much as possible in the first few months. Come in and I will show you to your room and bring you something warm to drink before you go to bed. In the morning you will meet my husband, Antonio, and then we can breakfast together and talk about the wedding, no?’
Bliss stole a very surreptitious glance at Dante and found him looking back at her with an expression that made her heart race. It was a possessive, almost predatory look that told her he had every intention of sharing her bed tonight and she’d better get used to the idea because under no circumstances was he going to be persuaded differently. Following a smiling Isabella inside the villa, Bliss almost missed the small raised step inside the porch because her blood was racing so hotly with anticipation through her veins.
Their large double bedroom had stone-flagged floors, frescos decorating the walls and antique furniture that was exquisite—including a large four-poster bed with flowing, damask rose drapes. Although she was almost painfully tired, Bliss’s hungry eyes never wearied of gazing at beauty and so, while Dante busied himself bringing their cases in from the car, she took off the short linen jacket she’d worn over her shirt and walked around the room examining everything. Stopping at a silver filigree framed photograph of Dante with an older well-dressed man with very white teeth and silver hair smiling beside him, she surmised that this must be Antonio, Dante’s father. As well as being extremely attractive with a very definite twinkle in his eye, his features suggested warmth and friendliness in abundance and Bliss couldn’t help but feel reassured, and not quite so daunted any more at the prospect of meeting him tomorrow.
‘Mamma is making you a drink. I said hot milk would be okay?’
Her attention was diverted as Dante entered the room carrying both their suitcases, and she noted that he too had removed his jacket. As he put down the cases and shut the door behind him her pulse skittered nervously at the sight of him, because the man seemed to provoke such a groundswell of passion inside her breast that she almost felt light-headed. And travelling had clearly not taken its toll on him in the way that it had on Bliss. Her hair and clothes were mussed, her make-up non-existent and she was in dire need of a bath or a shower. In contrast, one could have been forgiven for thinking that Dante had just returned from a casual afternoon stroll round some of the fashion hot spots of Milan.
‘Hot milk is fine, thanks, but I didn’t want her to go to any trouble.’
‘If you knew Isabella, you would know that she loves to fuss around her children.’ As he paused to study her, his hands either side of his lean, tight hips in his stylish black jeans, Dante’s examination of her was unnervingly intense. There was a definite tension about him that Bliss couldn’t fail to detect immediately and it put her on her guard. She wet her lips slightly with her tongue. ‘But I’m not one of her children, Dante, and she has only just met me.’
‘Even so. You will have to get used to her wanting to mother you…especially now that she knows you are expecting her newest grandchild.’ In a couple of strides he stood before her, his gaze touching her everywhere as if there wasn’t a place on her face or body that he was willing to overlook. In fact, he was devouring her with those scintillating green eyes of his, so hotly that in response Bliss could only stand there and stare at him, feeling as though some invisible mystical power held her willing captive. ‘Why are you l-looking at me like that?’ she stammered out.
‘You are not too tired from the journey?’
‘Why do you want to know?’ Her voice was a hushed whisper, her senses imprisoned by the rapaciously carnal glances Dante was giving her, feeling as if she’d been hooked up to some kind of honey drip that was slowing everything down and heating everything up all at the same time.
‘Why do you think I want to know…huh?’ Those irresistible fingers of his slid behind her neck and the pad of his thumb stroked back and forth across the sensitive skin on her throat in a very deliberate sensual foray. Leaning into his touch, Bliss couldn’t prevent the gasp of pleasure that emanated from her lips, yet she couldn’t deny the little niggle of disquiet inside her that refused to be stemmed either. ‘Is this…is this the room you normally stay in when you come home to your parents’ house?’ she asked softly.
‘Yes, it is. Why do you ask?’
‘Well…do you normally bring your girlfriends home with you when you come to stay?’
The dawn of understanding stealing into his fascinating green eyes, Dante stopped stroking Bliss’s throat and moved his hand down to rest it on her shoulder. There was the tiniest lift at the edges of his mouth, but Bliss couldn’t have said whether the intriguing little gesture was meant to be a smile or not. ‘I will tell you the truth, Bliss. I have never brought a girlfriend home to stay here with me. Always before we have stayed at my apartment in Milan.’
Trying to ignore the painful idea that he’d had any other girlfriends at all, let alone entertained them in his apartment, Bliss frowned. ‘And your parents don’t mind that we are sharing a room together before we are married?’ There, she’d said it, hot, embarrassed colour pouring into her cheeks the moment the words were out.
Dante could not fail to be impressed by the fact that Bliss should take his parents’ feelings into consideration. Impressed, but still enormously frustrated because how could he in all conscience argue if she were to suggest it was perhaps best
if they didn’t share a room? Certainly Isabella would secretly applaud Bliss’s unexpected show of respect. ‘Clearly they do not mind, or Mamma would not have told me to put our cases in the same room, innamorata. Besides…’ his gaze flicked downwards across her slim abdomen in her long black linen skirt ‘…it is a little late in the day to be so modest, is it not?’
His candid comment was not what she’d wanted to hear and, painfully disconcerted, Bliss raised her chin in a bid to hold onto her dignity. ‘Late in the day or not, Dante, I think we should wait until after we are married to share a room in your parents’ house. Don’t you agree?’
A visible muscle throbbing in the side of one tanned, perfectly sculpted cheek, Dante scowled and strode angrily to the other side of the room, as if he could hardly believe the disappointing turn events had suddenly taken. ‘You are doing this to torment me, are you not?’ he burst out.
Bliss almost wanted to laugh at the pure frustration in his eyes, but she couldn’t. Because if he was frustrated at them not being together in the most intimate way, she was wondering how she was supposed to spend the night in that big, gorgeous bed alone without every bit of possible sleep being disrupted by tormenting thoughts of having Dante make love to her, wildly and without restraint.
CHAPTER TEN
STANDING on the white veranda that lined the upper floor of the villa next morning, with miles and miles of verdant green forest in the distance, Bliss breathed deeply of the jasmine-scented summer air with a newly stirring, fragile sense of hope in her heart. Dante had been frustrated and angry when she had suggested they did not share a room in deference to his parents, yet he had still wished her a good night’s rest and told her not to worry about rising early the next morning. Now as she admired the view, the sounds of breakfast being prepared in the background with Isabella’s melodic Italian peppering the air, Bliss hoped Dante had forgiven her for not allowing him to share her bed. Although she had initially tossed and turned due to her own undeniable frustration, eventually sheer fatigue had caught up with her and she had slept the sleep of the truly innocent. Even succumbing to another bout of morning sickness had not encroached upon her satisfaction at that.