I pick up the phone and call Mia.
And beg her to take me with her to the Regatta Dinner.
“No,” she says firmly. “I promised Dante that I wouldn’t let you leave the grounds. He knew you’d try, you know.”
I roll my eyes.
“And don’t roll your eyes,” she tells me. “You’re not supposed to be out of bed.”
“I’m not,” I tell her.
“You’re lying,” she tells me. “He said you’d do that, too.”
OhMyWord.
This is impossible.
And then I do a really mean thing.
“Mia, you’re my very best friend here,” I tell her. “Please take me. Please. I feel fine and I’m going crazy here by myself. Everyone is in town at the festivities for the Regatta. The house is quiet. Too quiet. I’m going crazy.”
She’s silent.
Playing on the best friend thing was mean. Because it means a lot to her. And I do mean it. She’s my best friend here. She’s the only one I can count on to come pick me up and take me with her. So I tell her that.
“Why is this so important to you?” she asks. “It’s just a stupid dinner for the stupid Regatta. It will be here again next year.”
“But I won’t.” My voice is pitiful. But it’s the truth. And it works. Mia sighs.
“Fine. He’s going to kill me. But okay. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
Yes.
I hang up and get ready as quickly as I can. Even as I do, I know that I really shouldn’t be out of bed. But I want to see Dante. I don’t know why it’s so important.
It just is.
Sometimes love can’t be explained.
After my accident, I just feel like I need to be close to someone I love.
I feel… sentimental.
I’m waiting on the front porch when Mia drives up in her convertible with the top down. She looks me up and down.
“Are you sure that you’re up for this?” she asks doubtfully. “You look pretty pale, Kansas.”
“I’m good,” I assure her as she hands me a dress.
“It’s black,” she tells me needlessly. And Dante’s going to kill us both,” she adds. But she doesn’t sound worried.
“Is everything you own black?” I ask her as we hurry into the house so I can change. She grins.
“I’m trying,” she answers. And she’s wearing black right now. Her gown is floor length and black. The dress she brought for me is knee length with spaghetti straps. The quintessential little black dress. It pays to own one, I guess, even if it is just to let your friend borrow it in a fashion emergency.
I stick my hair in a chignon again, grab my purse and we are out the door speeding toward Valese.
“Slow down!” I call to her as her little car hugs the curves much too quickly.
“I’m fine,” she answers. “I’ve driven this road a thousand times.”
“Yeah? Well, so had Dante.”
That shuts her up and she does, in fact, slow down. A little.
But it still doesn’t take us long to reach the Old Palace. She tosses her keys to the valet and we find ourselves standing on the front steps. The Old Palace is gleaming tonight, the light streaming from the windows. Richly dressed people are pouring into the doors and all of a sudden, I feel dizzy.
“Are you alright?” Mia asks me, her hand on my elbow.
“I’m fine,” I tell her. I will be fine. Just as soon as I see Dante. For some stupid reason, I feel needy tonight. I think it’s the stupid pain medicine. It’s making me sentimental.
We make our way in and since I’m with Mia, we don’t even get questioned at the door. We wind through the crowds and Mia knows the back way into the ballrooms. It’s clear that she has been to more than a few of these functions.
We pause outside of the ballroom doors while she adjusts my dress straps and then we slip inside. We are just in time to hear Dimitri speaking about the history of the Regatta, which I listen to half-heartedly while I search the room for Dante.
But I don’t see him.
I see Gavin, seated at a table in front. He’s with a tiny little blonde date. He sees me and smiles and looks a little confused, like he wasn’t expecting to see me. I assume that Dante told everyone that I’m safely in bed right now.
I don’t see Nate, the scumbag.
And then my ears perk up. Dante’s father is discussing the Queen and King of the Regatta. I watch in interest as Dimitri explains the history of selecting a king and queen every year for the past two hundred years.
And then he announces that this year’s king and queen will be Dante Giliberti and Elena Kontou.
Wait. What?
I watch numbly as Dante and Elena walk out to meet Dimitri. Dante is perfect and handsome in his black tux and Elena is beautiful and stunning in a long emerald green gown that matches her eyes just right.
Someone hands them flowers and they wave to the crowd before Elena leans up and kisses Dante’s cheek. He smiles down at her and they join hands and bow to the crowd.
And I want to throw up.
Seriously. I feel nauseous.
“Are you alright?” Mia asks quickly. She’s watching my face.
“Did you know?” I ask her woodenly.
“No,” she answers simply.
And I believe her.
How did this happen?
Why didn’t he tell me?
He had to know. He had to know earlier in the day and he chose not to tell me. So essentially, he lied. He lied by omission. Maybe this was the reason that I was drawn here tonight. Maybe I wasn’t feeling sentimental. Maybe my heart sensed that something was wrong.
I am staring at them in shock when Dante’s gaze accidentally meets mine.
He freezes and dismay clouds his face.
And he takes a step in my direction, but then his father is shaking his hand and I don’t wait to see what happens. I can’t watch another second of this. I thought he was truly going to stand up for himself and live the life that he wanted… which meant that he wouldn’t go through this charade of being with Elena.
I thought he wanted to be with me.
But he lied.
And so I do the only thing I can rationally think of to do.
I run.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The problem is, I didn’t learn enough about the Old Palace before I moved out to the Giliberti House. And so I don’t have a clue where I am going. I’m all turned around. And even though I have the good sense to take off my heels and carry them as I run, it doesn’t do me a lot of good since I don’t know where I’m going.
Mia gets caught up in the crowds and so I lose her in the fray.
But that is my intention.
I want to lose her.
I just want to be alone so that I can cry in peace and quiet.
After a few minutes of running aimlessly through empty halls, I find myself outdoors by the pool. It’s still and quiet and the water is sparkling under the moon. There is no one here so I collapse into a heap on a lounge.
And I cry.
I cry in heaves and sobs and wrack my ribs and finally my freaking head hurts again from all the sobbing. And I don’t even feel pathetic for crying so much because anyone in their right mind would cry in my situation.
I’m in a foreign country, all alone, in love with the Prime Minister’s son and he’s too afraid to break out of his cage and love me back. Oh, and I practically got stomped to death by a gigantic horse yesterday. I deserve some slack.
Finally, I’m all cried out.
I’m staring numbly at the sky, my mascara dried to my cheeks when I hear rustling and whispering from behind me.
Heaven is pointing in my direction.
And she’s standing next to Dante.
She must have seen me running and crying and she found Dante to tell him.
OhMyGodNo. I don’t want to see him.
I start to get up to run. But then I realize that I can’t run anywhere that he won’t be able to
find me. He knows this palace a lot better than I do. So, I sit limply back down and wait while Dante walks across the patio to reach me.
There’s nothing else I can do.
But he can’t make me talk to him.
I’m staring at the ground and I know when he is in front of me because I see the tip of his glossy black dress shoe step into my line of vision.
I blink.
And I stare at the ground harder and with purpose.
“Reece,” he says.
I don’t answer.
What is there to say?
He lied to me by not telling be about this stupid Queen and King business. And he did that on purpose. I can’t trust him now.
So that’s what I tell him.
And then I’m silent again.
He sighs raggedly and sits on the end of the lounger. I pull my feet up to my chest so that I am not touching him, so that I’m in no danger whatsoever of touching him, and he sighs again.
“I’m sorry,” he tells me. He tries to reach for my hand, but I pull it away. “Reece. Please. I’m so sorry. You don’t understand.”
He sounds like he is in pain. But I don’t care because I’m in pain too.
“Yeah, I know,” I tell him bitterly. “Your life is so complicated.”
“It is,” he agrees. “I can’t explain it to you. It’s just hard. There are so many expectations of me. And I hate to disappoint my father. He’s under so much pressure already. It was just a little wave in front of the crowd. And then another wave tomorrow at the Regatta. It wasn’t a big deal and I didn’t want to make a big deal of it. And that’s why I didn’t tell you. You were already upset because of my accident and then you had your accident and I just couldn’t tell you.”
I’m silent. Because I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to feel or think.
“I love you, not Elena. Elena and I are over. And I did tell my father that I’m not with Elena anymore,” he tells me. “I told him already. And he understands.”
“Did you tell him about me?” I ask him. “Does he know that you’re with me?”
Silence.
I stare at him in accusation. “You didn’t!”
Dante looks at me. “I didn’t have to, Reece. He already knew. He could see it from twenty miles away. I love you. Everyone can see it. Everyone knows that.”
I’m still silent.
I want to believe him.
“I really want to believe you,” I tell him. “But believing you isn’t even the problem anymore. Seeing you and Elena up there in front of everyone… you looked like you belong together. You and I…we don’t. We aren’t a match. Let’s just lay it out there. I’m a farm girl from Kansas. You are a VIP with an even more important father. We’re not going to work. We’re just not.”
My shoulders slump and my voice is flat.
And my arm is throbbing.
And my head is spinning.
And my heart is broken.
I just want to go home. Home to Kansas and my mom.
And I tell him so.
Dante stares at me sadly and in disbelief.
“Please don’t,” he pleads. “Reece. Please. It doesn’t matter that we’re different. You’re everything that I’m not. That’s important, right? You’re assertive where I’m hesitant, and I’m assured where you are afraid. You’re strong when I’m weak and I’m hard when you’re soft. People who are exactly the same are boring. We’re different and I love that. I love you. And that is all that matters.”
“I used to think that love is all that matters,” I tell him. “But I just don’t know anymore. I don’t know if it’s enough.”
And my heart. My poor heart is breaking and I just want to rip it out and stomp on it because I trusted it to make this decision and now I’m heartbroken because of it.
All of a sudden, I realize that it’s raining now and I decide that that that’s apropos. My heart is gray and dismal so it might as well get rained on, too. The rain splatters around us and I don’t move. I don’t care if I’m wet. I don’t care about anything.
“We need to go in,” Dante tells me. “Please, Reece. You were just in an accident. I don’t want you to get pneumonia, too.”
But I still don’t move. In fact, I lay my head back on the lounge and lift my face to the sky, letting the rain wash over me.
And I’m silent again.
“Fine,” Dante finally says. “If you’re going to get pneumonia, so will I.” He settles on the lounger next to me and lets the rain soak him.
We both must look ridiculous, stretched out next to the pool in formal clothes and letting the rain drench us. We’re out of our minds. But Dante stays with me.
And I don’t even know how long we are like this.
But finally, after minutes or an hour, I’m cold. It’s still raining and my skin is like ice and my teeth are chattering.
Dante looks over at me. “Are you ready now?”
He’s not angry or impatient.
He’s just wet.
Very, very wet.
I nod.
Dante gets to his feet and then bends to help me to mine. And I let him. I’m too sad and empty to put up a fuss.
He fingers my cast. “You weren’t supposed to get this wet,” he tells me softly.
“It doesn’t matter,” I answer. Because nothing matters. Not anymore. I turn and start to walk back inside, but Dante grabs my arm gently and turns me around.
“Reece.”
One word. But the tone of his voice. The look in eyes. The pain on his face.
“Please.”
Make that two words.
“I love you.”
And the three most important words of all.
I crumple onto the lounger and cry again even though I didn’t think I had any tears left. And then Dante is next to me, with his wet arms around me and he’s whispering in my ear.
And the huskiness of his voice.
The smell of his wet skin.
The beating of his heart against my hand.
All of it.
I don’t want to be without him.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe love is all that matters. And we can get through our differences. We can get through anything.
And then he’s kissing me.
And I’m letting him.
And I’m kissing him back.
Because I love him and he loves me and Elena Kontou doesn’t matter.
Dante’s hands are all over me, warm and strong and I lean into him, into his warmth, his strength. It’s still raining, but we are kissing in the rain and it’s sexy as hell. In fact, I think I’ll kiss in the rain forever. For the rest of my life. Because it’s just that sexy.
“We should go in,” Dante says against my lips.
But I don’t want to move. I don’t want to leave here and re-enter reality. Not yet. Reality isn’t my friend right now. I recently lost Dante, got him back, lost him again tonight and then just got him back. I want to linger here in this moment before I risk losing him again, before any more miscommunications separate us.
And no. I’m not making any sense.
I know that.
Dante tugs at my hand and I follow him blindly. Because I’m wet and he’s right. We should go in.
But he doesn’t lead me back into the main building. He leads me to a pool-house.
It’s secluded and dark and perfect.
Once we tumble through the door, wet and dripping, Dante turns to me.
“I don’t want to go back to all of those people. I want to be here, alone with you. We can sit here and dry out and we can talk.”
His eyes are such a beautiful blue even at night in the dark. And the cleft in his chin is so masculine, so sexy. And I forgive him. I forgive him for not telling me about the stupid Regatta royalty thing because that’s exactly what it is: Stupid. And he was just trying not to upset me.
“We could talk,” I agree. “Or we can kiss some more.”
Dante reaches for me immediatel
y.
“Your wish is my command, remember?”
And I do. I remember the day that he told me that I can have anything that I want. And I know that right here in this moment, I want him.
So I tell him so.
And he sucks in a breath and stares at me.
Because he understands exactly what I mean by that.
“Are you sure?” he whispers.
And I nod.
There are cushions everywhere inside this little pool house and I don’t take the time to wonder why. I just drop onto the nearest pile of them and pull Dante down with me. I’m on my back and he’s hovering over me and his weight is absolutely delicious against me.
Why have I been waiting?
What in the world have I been waiting for?
Because. Being here with Dante. Is Amazing.
He kisses the side of my neck and his lips slide along my wet skin. He clutches me to him and we’re desperate, but I don’t know why. The emotions from the past couple of weeks have pent up and pent up and now they’re exploding.
In a big way.
Dante’s tongue is in my mouth and he tastes like wine. And he smells like the sea. And he feels like… Dante. Like home. I moan against his fingers and he whispers into my ear.
“I don’t want you think you have to do this.”
“I want to do this,” I answer. And I do. I really, really do. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
“Me too,” he says as he slides against me.
I want to tease him about having nothing more eloquent to say than that, but I find that I suddenly don’t care. This is a pivotal moment in our relationship. In my life, actually. And I don’t even care about that, about the importance of it.
All I care about right now is him.
It’s Dante.
It will always be Dante.
I know that as his mouth covers mine and he rocks against me and the world explodes.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Okay. So the world didn’t actually explode. But it sure felt like it for a minute. I want to e-mail Becca to tell her how my world has changed, but I don’t know how to phrase it in an e-mail.
Dear Becks, my world has changed?
Dear Becks, don’t tell my mom but I’m not a virgin anymore?
Dear Becks, my fragile flower has been plucked?
Dante's Girl (The Paradise Diaries) Page 20