by Tara Pammi
The voices downstairs floated away leaving Dante and her alone in their own world. His finger rubbed her collarbone, relentless heat spewing from the small touch.
With a groan, he covered her mouth with his. Completely. Utterly. The kiss was tenderness itself. Soft. Inviting. Opening up the whole world and putting it at her feet.
It seemed as if it was the very essence of the man he was—full of depth beneath the isolation he set upon himself, full of emotion and passion that he was determined to deny. A heart so big and that gave generously while remaining closed off to receiving anything in return.
He venerated her with those soft lips, his eyes shining because she’d given him everything. He knew it, she knew it. The words didn’t need to be said. It was as she’d guessed—the only way into Dante’s heart, the only way to carve a small place for herself in there, was to surrender everything. To lay everything open at his feet.
She felt as if she was stripped to flesh and bone, all her armor falling away. As if his kiss was what she was made for.
He deepened the kiss, his fingers in her hair, his hold on her heart tightening.
It spoke of things he would never say. It showed her that she had a place in his heart too, however small. It told her that this arrogant, powerful man was no more in control of the bond between them than she was.
He kissed her as if she were the most precious thing he had ever held. He extracted a tiny velvet box from his jacket and her heart raced.
Every inch of her trembled as he pulled out a delicate-looking necklace. Three diamonds glittered in the middle of the thin chain, while tiny black beads lined up on either side. Ali stood, stunned, as he pushed her hair back and hooked the delicate chain behind her neck. It was a mangalsutra, the chain a husband put on his wife in the Hindu tradition.
His fingers lingered at her nape, his chin resting on her head.
She kept her head bowed, fighting the tears prickling behind her eyes. Fighting for breath. Struggling to stay still while the ground rocked from under her.
As if he understood, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Her breasts pressed against his chest, her trembling legs held by the cradle of his powerful thighs.
“Mrs. Puri told me that I wasn’t being fair. That your father would have demanded that I do right by you. That I was doing everything by my family’s traditions, leaving yours out.”
“She called you and took you to task?” Ali demanded. “She worships the ground you walk on.”
The few seconds he waited resonated with his reluctance. “I called her and asked her to explain how things had been done with your parents. And she walked me through them. Ali, if you want a Hindu wedding or a reception, or a mehendi night or a bachelorette party, whatever you want, I want you to have it. I don’t want you to resent me ten years down the line because I cheated you out of some tradition or custom. I don’t want you to tell me in thirty years that I didn’t give you a bride’s trousseau as custom demands. I want you to have everything you desire, cara mia.”
He had the whole mansion looking like it had during her childhood. Like a beautiful bride waiting for her groom.
He had decided that they would resurrect the tradition of the Diwali party, which had been her mother’s yearly extravaganza. He’d invited so many of the old staff, Matta employees, charity workers, even Jai.
He had asked Mrs. Puri so that he could do right by her family’s traditions.
And he claimed, again and again, that he had no heart to give. That he wasn’t a romantic. That he didn’t do relationships. That he didn’t do love. Her heart seemed to have crawled into her throat and lodged there. Making even breathing difficult.
“Look at me, Alisha,” he said in that commanding tone of his.
Chin quivering, Ali did. If he kissed her, she would melt into him. He was everything she had ever wanted and she felt as if she were in some fairyland where all her wishes were being granted. Terror filled her when she thought of that midnight stroke that would return everything back to reality, to a world without him.
“Will you be my wife, Ali?”
She took his hands in hers, tears running down her cheeks, and brought his hand to her cheek. “I don’t need ceremonies to define this thing between us. The first time I walked into your bedroom, I became your wife, Dante. You’re making me cry and I look like something the cat dragged in when I cry...and—oh, no, my makeup,” she wailed.
Laughing, he produced a handkerchief and carefully blotted her cheeks. “You’re always beautiful and it will drive me insane the whole evening that other men will see you in that outfit.”
“Did Mrs. Puri tell you that according to Hindu traditions, you’re stuck with me for seven lifetimes?”
He nodded and there was such tenderness in his eyes that it stole her breath. “I’m hoping that this is the first one. Shall we go down?”
“It’s not fair,” she whined.
He frowned. “What’s not fair?”
“It’s been three weeks and I’m dying to get you into bed, or against the wall, and there are all these people waiting for us...”
He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple as if to tease her even more. “Patience, tesoro. Remember, good things come to those who wait.”
And he was worth the wait.
* * *
By the time they had seen the last guest off and were riding the elevator toward Dante’s penthouse, it was past one in the morning.
Ali was so tired she felt like she could fall asleep standing up.
His arm around her shoulders, Dante pulled her to his side until all her weight was against him. His mouth was soft at her temple. And then he nuzzled her throat, the gesture less sexual and more tender. “Bed for you, I think. I’ve been waiting all evening to get you out of your...lehenga,” he said gingerly, trying out the word, “but I’ll do it to put you to bed.”
Ali smiled so widely that she thought her mouth would crack. “No, no, no. I have a million things to tell you, plans to make for us and it’s been killing me to wait.”
His gaze lingered on the shadows under her eyes. “Ali, we can do it tomorrow morning. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Please, Dante.”
He laughed and pressed a swift kiss to her mouth. “Well, if you ask nicely like that, si.”
Excitement replacing the exhaustion, Ali hit the number for the floor to her studio. “First thing on the agenda for tonight—do you want to see my work?”
The anticipation and the pure joy that filled his eyes made him look breathtakingly beautiful. “Si, please.”
She took his hand and dragged him with her. Just as they reached the door to the studio, she halted. “Actually, that’s not the first item.”
“Ali, I hate that I’ve made you so insecure with my cruel words, but please, cara mia.”
“No. It’s not that. I...I just... I came up with this during the party.”
His smile disappeared. “No, you can’t be friends with Jai. I had Izzy invite him because you said he was looking for capital for his start-up and it would be good for him to network and meet some of the shareholders. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that your ex in your life is not something I can tolerate. Please don’t—”
She wanted to argue just for the heck of it. But Dante was taking tentative steps toward communicating his feelings with her and really, she didn’t even want Jai in her life. They had nothing in common anymore. Instead she said, “Okay. I won’t.”
He looked so shocked by her easy acceptance that she laughed out loud.
“Just like that?”
Going on her toes, she whispered, “Today’s your lucky day, mister.” She swiped her tongue over his lower lip until he opened for her. “I hope you take complete advantage of it. Of me.” His answer was to kiss the hell out of her, until she forgot her own name
.
He was panting when he pulled away, lust etched on every inch of his face. “If you want me to listen to all the items on your agenda, you had better keep your hands to yourself, cara mia.”
Out of breath herself, Ali nodded.
It took her several minutes to retrace their conversation. “So, the first thing is that today, I... Having the party at the mansion, it made me realize...I want to live there. I mean, us, I want us to live there. To make our home there, make it a happy place again, fill it with good memories and laughter and...” She swallowed the word love at the last second.
“I think it would have made both Mama and Papa and even Vikram happy, don’t you think? We can—” heat swarmed her cheeks at the intensity of his gaze “—like you said, when we’re ready, we... I do want a big family and the grounds and the house would be perfect to raise an army of kids.”
“An army?” he said in such a low voice that she laughed again.
“Si.”
“Okay. We’ll live at Matta Mansion.”
She took his hand and rubbed the palm against her cheek. Her heart was in danger of exploding out of her chest. “Just like that?” she said, trying to breathe over the lump in her throat.
“Today’s your lucky day. I hope you take advantage of that, bella mia.”
I love you so much. The words flitted to her lips but Ali swallowed them away. She didn’t want to bring awkwardness to such a beautiful day and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
Instead, she just nodded, took his hand and pulled him into her studio.
* * *
Dante had no idea what to expect. His disparaging comments before still shamed him. So he had forced himself to keep an open mind, to support and encourage her when she needed it, to catch her if she faced disappointment. Not because he thought she would fail but because art was such a subjective world and he just...he wanted to be there for her.
As Ali turned on the huge industrial-strength lights he’d had the workmen install when he had purchased two flats and had them converted into a large open studio for her, he told himself that whatever she showed him, he would praise her, he would encourage her effort. He would—
A number of blown-up framed photographs stood leaning against the walls all around him.
He found himself at an utter loss for words.
Each print was a candid shot—a starkly beautiful life moment captured in time. One was a naked woman in the kitchen of that restaurant in Bangkok—no hint of vulnerability in her face as she met the camera head-on. One was a woman feeding her child—utter bliss on her face. One was a man on his knees in front of a woman with his mouth on her sex, one of a woman covered in bruises from fingerprints on her neck to the impression of shoes on her belly and it went on and on and on.
Every single one of them was hauntingly beautiful, tender and yet real at the same time—life in all its glory and indignity—and each one spoke volumes of the extraordinary talent and perspective of the woman who had captured them.
Shame and pride warred within him, and still he had no words to say.
“Dante?” she whispered, no tentativeness or need for validation in her words.
Standing amid her black-and-white and color prints, she was a goddess.
He went to her, took her hands, kissed her knuckles. Searched his mind for the right words. Cristo, what could he say that would tell her how humbled he felt that she had shared them with him.
“I don’t know why you did it, but thank you for buying me that camera all those years ago.”
He shook his head, emotion clogging his throat. “Don’t...lay this at my feet, bella. If I hadn’t, you’d have found another way to make it happen. You’re...your work is...” he laughed. “Your papa...he would have been so proud, Ali. He would have been elated to see how extraordinary you are.”
Tears overflowed in her eyes and fell down onto her cheeks. She came to him like lightning and fire and he caught her in his embrace. Held her while she cried. Glad that for once in his life, he’d found the right words to say to her.
Hoping that every time she came to him for something like this, he had enough to give her what she needed.
Hoping that, for the first time in his life, his past hadn’t robbed him completely of his ability to give affection, to receive the love she gave him.
* * *
Ali had no idea how long she stayed in Dante’s arms like that. All she knew was that life couldn’t get more beautiful. Or more giving. He was so solid and real and wonderful in her arms that she never wanted to let go. The moment was so tender and loving and complete she almost changed her mind. Almost.
But she didn’t want to start their new life hiding something so important from him. She didn’t want to make this decision on her own. She shouldn’t have to. Especially since it affected them both. And she was sure, whether he agreed with her or not, he would want to know.
So, as much as she wanted to stay in his arms and beg him to take her to bed, she took a long breath, filled her lungs with the essence of him and pulled back slightly. “Do I look all grungy then?” she said, still trying to find the right words. “I have too much makeup on to be crying every other second.”
He didn’t smile. A little line appeared between his brows, as if he knew she was delaying. But then, he did know her very well.
“What is the third thing on your agenda?”
She stepped out of his embrace completely and faced him. “My agent wants me to do an exhibit, as soon as possible, actually. Her team is trying to decide which gallery will display it best. And she told me that they’re all trying to get it to theirs. It will start in London, and based on the reception, it might...go to other cities, like New York, Beijing. We’re still talking about the details.
“It’s all happening so fast. I’ve hired an employment agency and put out ads for employees for the charity too.”
“That’s fantastic news. The world should see your talent. And it looks like you’re doing the best thing for the charity. You can still be involved at a higher level. Are you worried about the travel?”
Ali shook her head and swallowed the misgivings in her throat. “No, no... That’s not it. It’s just that something else has come up too. Do you remember that photography apprenticeship I had wanted to go on but that never happened?”
He didn’t completely withdraw, but his mouth tightened. “Si.”
Ali looked down at her laced fingers. Christ, why was this so hard? Why did it suddenly feel like there was an ocean between them already? “My agent showed some of my work to this American entrepreneur/philanthropist who puts together teams to work in some of the remotest areas of the world, like Tibet, Bosnia, Haiti. You know, sometimes they’re war zones, sometimes it’s just a rebuilding effort to clean up after natural disasters.
“Anyway, he got in touch with me a week ago, out of the blue. No introductions. Not his agent reaching out to mine. Just called me one afternoon when I was here and asked me if I could meet him in a couple of hours because he was leaving London that night.
“Two minutes into the meeting, he asked me to join his team on the next expedition. Apparently, he always hires a world-renowned photographer to capture the expedition, sort of to bring those things to the world’s notice. My agent told me he’s never asked anyone as young as me before, but apparently, when she forwarded some of my work to him, he instantly decided that he wanted me. I’ve been reading up all about his teams and the trips they take, and I realized what an honor it is to be chosen.”
Dante covered the distance between them and hugged her tightly. “I’m not surprised.”
Some of her tension dissolved. When he held her like that, it felt as if there wasn’t anything she couldn’t conquer. “Yeah?”
He tipped her chin up. “You didn’t say yes?”
“No. I... First, I was just so st
unned. It took me a while to realize what a big compliment it was to my work. Not until I Googled the hell out of him. And then that night, my agent asked me what I was waiting for. I told her I’d have to talk to you. I mean, it’s a decision that affects both of us, our life together and I... It didn’t feel right to just say yes and then tell you about it afterward. I wanted to talk to you about it. It’s been so hard to just sit on it while you were in Tokyo.”
Once again, Dante had no words. He kept thinking he had the measure of her and she kept surprising him. His chest felt tight, as if his heart was too big for it. “Ali...” His hands shook as he gathered her to him. “I’m glad you waited to discuss it with me although it’s not necessary. This is your career and I want it to go from height to height until the whole world takes pleasure in your work.”
She nodded but her anxiety was like a cloak around her. He hated to see her smile dim. He pushed the hair back from her shoulder and covered the silky bare skin. “What is worrying you? Is there a fee you have to pay? Don’t worry about finances or the charity.”
“No, there isn’t. Of course, I don’t get paid either because it’s a privilege to join his team.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“The next trip that he wants me to go on...will leave in a month.”
“And?”
“I’ll be gone for at least eighteen months. Might be more. If I agree and sign the contract, I’m bound by it. I can’t just up and leave if I don’t like it. Of course, there will be scheduled breaks but I’m told they won’t be long.”
It was like a punch to his stomach. He couldn’t imagine not seeing her for eighteen months. Cristo, he felt like a teenager saying goodbye to his first crush. It felt like a lifetime. “I see,” he said, just to give himself time to gather his fragmented thoughts.
Ali hid her face in his chest, as if afraid of his reaction. The graceful line of her profile, the small tremors he could feel in her shoulders... This was the opportunity of a lifetime.