His Forbidden Conquest: A Moment on the Lips / The Best Mistake of Her Life / Not Just Friends

CHAPTER TEN

THE next morning, Carenza’s doorbell buzzed. Dante? she wondered with a surge of pleasure, and pressed the intercom. ‘Hello?’

‘Signorina Tonielli?’ It wasn’t a voice she recognised, and she tamped down the disappointment. ‘I have a delivery for you.’

She opened the door to discover a huge bouquet of the most gorgeous white flowers—roses, lilies, lisianthus and freesias. On a Sunday, this would have to be a special order. She signed for it with a smile, knowing who they were from before she even opened the card. Familiar spiky handwriting, with the simple message, I’m sorry. D.

She buried her nose in them, inhaling the scent. Beautiful. Like the man himself.

She could call him to thank him. Then again, she had a better idea. Especially on a bright, sunny Sunday morning.

Half an hour later, she walked into Dante’s office. ‘Hi.’

He looked up from his computer. ‘Hi.’

‘The flowers were lovely. I wanted to come and say thank you properly.’ She sat on the edge of his desk, pushed her sunglasses up to the top of her head, and leaned forward to kiss him. ‘Though you really didn’t need to. You have nothing to apologise about.’

He sucked in a breath. ‘But I hurt you.’

‘Unintentionally.’ She stroked his face. ‘Though I get why it’s a big deal for you.’ Seeing the concern thicken in his eyes, she added hastily, ‘What we talked about last night, that stays with me. But I know you’d never hurt me. I trust you, Dante. Completely.’

Dante saw the sincerity in her face and his chest felt tight. ‘How can you?’

‘Because you’re a good man. Look at what you’ve done for me, a complete stranger. You’re helping me get my grandfather’s business back on track. You do charity stuff without saying a word to anyone about it or expecting anything back. You’re something else, Dante Romano.’

This time, when she leaned forward to kiss him, he scooped her onto his lap. He let himself enjoy her warmth, her sweetness. It felt oddly as if she were starting to heal him from the inside out.

‘I know you’re busy, but I have a teensy proposition for you,’ she whispered.

His body surged at that. ‘Would that be anything like the first time you propositioned me?’

She flushed deeply at that, and he couldn’t help smiling at the outrage on her face when she protested, ‘I didn’t proposition you.’

‘No, Princess? I seem to remember you asking me to mentor you, and offering to pay me in kind.’

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You misinterpreted me.’

But her eyes were sparkling, and he warmed to his theme. ‘And then you took your top off.’

‘Because you told me to.’

‘And Carenza Tonielli really takes orders from other people,’ he drawled. ‘Not. You did it because you wanted to.’

‘And who was it who asked me to go home with him and do him?’ she pointed out, laughing. ‘That was a hell of a lot more of a proposition.’

He shifted. ‘Mmm. Great idea. Shall I lock the door?’

‘No. I mean a different proposition.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Yesterday didn’t go quite as planned. So I’d like to try again.’

His spirits plummeted. ‘Dancing?’ he asked warily.

‘No. So can I borrow you for, say … two hours?’ She smiled at him. ‘And if I can help you catch up on the time you’re losing, just say what you need me to do. I won’t mind if you boss me about.’

His heart melted. She wouldn’t have a clue about the franchise stuff. Well, he amended, she’d learned a lot, but not enough to be of any real help. But her willingness disarmed him. ‘Two hours.’

‘Just while it’s sunny.’

He was going to have to work really late tonight to catch up. He should say no. But his mouth had other ideas. ‘I’m all yours, Princess.’

‘Good.’

She took him to the Villa Comunale, the main public park in Naples overlooking the sea. And Dante was surprised to discover just how much he enjoyed strolling hand in hand with her in the lush greenery, looking at the fountains and the statues. Something he’d never let himself have the time to do before.

When they came to the roller-skating park, Carenza removed her sunglasses again and looked straight at him. ‘Dare you.’

‘I’ve never been skating.’

She grinned. ‘Then I’ll teach you.’

‘If I fall over, I’m going to want to be kissed better,’ he warned with an answering grin.

‘Deal.’ She kissed him lightly, then hired skates for them both.

‘You’ve done this before,’ he said as she pirouetted before him on her skates.

She nodded. ‘My grandparents used to take me here when I was small. I guess it’s like riding a bike or swimming—once you can do it, you don’t forget.’

He fell over twice; she didn’t laugh, just held her hand out to him to help him to his feet again and smiled encouragement at him. But by the end of their session he was skating with her, as carefree as she was and enjoying every second of it.

Two hours turned into four. Because it would’ve been rude not to take her out to lunch, afterwards, at one of the little caffès overlooking the sea. But when they finally got back to his office, he held her close. ‘Thank you.’

‘What for?’

‘Mentoring me.’ He gave her a lopsided smile. ‘In having fun. Because I did.’

‘My pleasure.’

He could see in her eyes that it wasn’t just a pleasantry; she absolutely glowed with the knowledge that she’d given him something special.

‘I’d, um, better let you get on,’ she said.

‘Yeah.’ Funny how work didn’t seem quite as important as it usually did. Which should worry him. He couldn’t afford to lose his focus. ‘I’ll call you later. And I’ll see you on Wednesday for mentoring.’ If he could stay away from her for that long.

He managed it. Just. Though there were several texts between them, and a phone conversation that really heated Dante’s blood.

But on Wednesday, when he arrived at Carenza’s office, he saw that her eyes were red and her face was blotchy from crying.

It was the one thing he really couldn’t bear, seeing a woman cry. Not the fake tears of a woman who wanted to get her own way—he knew that Carenza was more likely to ask outright than to cry pretty little tears designed to make someone change their mind—but real pain and despair. He’d seen too much of it in his life, and it never got any easier. He still couldn’t deal with it.

He wrapped his arms round her and held her close. ‘What’s happened?’

‘I’m sorry. I should’ve cancelled. I can’t think straight enough for business, tonight.’

‘Doesn’t matter. What’s wrong, Caz?’

She was shivering. ‘My grandparents.’

He remembered what she’d told him about her grandfather’s heart problems. ‘Gino’s ill?’

She shook her head. ‘My English grandparents.’

‘They’re ill?’

‘No. They sent me some files.’ She was clearly trying to hold back the tears, but a sob escaped. ‘They’d been clearing the attic and found some cine films everyone had forgotten about.’

‘Of your parents?’

She nodded. ‘They were taken when I was two and my parents took me to Cornwall. My grandparents had it transferred to digital media and they emailed it over today.’ She stepped back out of his arms and gestured to the computer screen. ‘I put a copy on a DVD for Nonno and Nonna. But I watched it first, and it just—it just …’ Her words were choked off on a sob. ‘How much I’ve lost.’ Her voice was a hoarse whisper. ‘I mean, I love Nonna and Nonno. They’ve done so much for me, and I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to bring me up. But it’s not the same as having my mum and dad.’

‘How old were your parents when they died?’ he asked gently.

‘Mummy was twenty-six and Papa was twenty-eight—the same age I am now. That’s so young to die. And all because of a stupid man who drove too fast on a motorway and … and … and it’s all so senseless. So pointless.’

She was really, really hurting. And he couldn’t walk away. He wrapped his arms round her again and let her cry, holding her tightly until her sobs had died away.

‘You’ve put it on DVD, you said.’ He nuzzled her cheek. ‘Forget business. Let’s go and watch it together.’

‘But you hate films.’

‘This is different. It’s all about you as a child. And I think right now you need to see it with someone, rather than breaking your heart while you watch it all on your own.’

Carenza couldn’t believe how thoughtful Dante was being, how tender and how careful of her feelings. For a moment, she wondered if maybe he was actually falling for her, the way she was for him—but no, that was ridiculous. She was just in a state because of all the memories and all the loss coming back to her. Being overemotional, and clutching at straws. He was just being kind, that was all. Being strong. Being Dante.

In silence, she led him up to her flat. Once she’d set the disc in the player, Dante drew her over to the sofa with him and settled her on his lap, wrapping his arms round her. Right at that moment, she really needed the warmth of his body next to hers. And she really appreciated the fact that he could read her mood so well.

‘Your mother was beautiful, so like you,’ he said softly. ‘How old is she there?’

‘Twenty-two.’

‘She was very young.’

Carenza nodded. ‘She met my dad at university in Rome. He was doing business studies and she was doing history of art. They fell in love with each other, and then I came along. I wasn’t planned, but that didn’t matter because they loved each other and they loved me. My mum didn’t finish her degree, but Nonna says nobody minded because they had me—and she stayed in Italy because she wanted to be with my dad.’

‘They look really happy together.’

He sounded wistful—or was that just her imagination? Right at that moment, she couldn’t trust anything she was feeling.

‘They were.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘When I went to England, my grandparents said it was like seeing my mum’s ghost. I mean, Nonna always sent them school photographs and what have you, but it wasn’t the same as actually seeing me.’ She rubbed away the tears. ‘My birthday last year was a nightmare. Turning twenty-seven made me older than my mum was when she died.’

‘Tough to deal with,’ he said.

‘I went off the rails a bit,’ she confessed. ‘You know about that.’

‘Not everything.’ He stroked her hair. ‘You took drugs?’

She shook her head emphatically. ‘Absolutely not. It’s never appealed to me—especially after seeing the mess a couple of my friends were in before their family got them into rehab. No, I just partied a lot, danced until three in the morning, drank too much champagne, and went out for smoked salmon and scrambled egg breakfasts. I suppose I wanted to celebrate life, go over the top to prove to myself that I was still here.’ She sniffed. ‘And I should probably tell you that I slept with way too many men.’

‘I already knew that.’ Though there was no condemnation in his voice. ‘And now I know why.’ He shrugged. ‘I guess I would’ve reacted the same way.’

Her chest felt tight. ‘That’s the other reason I haven’t dated for the last year—because I wanted to get my self-respect back.’

‘And have you?’ His voice was gentle.

‘I don’t know.’

He kissed her lightly. ‘Your parents would be very proud of the woman you’ve become, Caz.’

The lump in her throat was so huge, she could barely get the words past it. ‘You think so?’

‘I know so,’ he said softly. ‘I look at what you’ve done over the last month or so, and I’m proud of you.’

It wasn’t just the words; it was his tone. He meant it. It was too much for her, and she ended up bawling all over him again.

By the time she’d stopped crying, his shirt was wet. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s OK. It’ll wash. Stay here.’ He kissed her swiftly, then moved her off his lap onto the sofa. She curled up in a ball, feeling miserable; when he came back, she realised he’d made her a mug of hot milk and cinnamon. Just like the drink she’d made him, the night he’d trusted her with some of his own shadows.

And that made her cry again. ‘You’re being so nice to me, Dante.’

‘Because you’re upset and you need comfort.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘I can be nice. Sometimes.’

‘When you’re not being a brooding business tycoon.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘Sorry. You didn’t sign up for this.’ Not as her mentor and not as her lover. And she still couldn’t hold the tears back. Surely she should be all cried out by now? But it felt as if there were a bottomless well and she’d never stop crying again.

You’re upset and you need comfort.

And he was here for her.

‘Dante, I know it’s a lot to ask, but will you—will you stay with me tonight? Please?’ she whispered.

Stay with her.

Dante knew it would be a bad move. If things carried on like this, he’d get involved with her.

Who was he trying to kid? He already was involved with her. Otherwise he would’ve made some excuse, told her he’d come back when she was feeling better and sort out the business stuff with her. But no. He’d held her close while she’d watched her childhood memories filter across the screen. When the loss had hit her and seared her soul, he’d been there to hold her. Just as she’d held him on Saturday night when his own past had come back to haunt him.

He didn’t want to make himself vulnerable to her. But how could he possibly leave her to it? Right now, she was upset and completely defenceless. She really needed him. It just wasn’t in him to leave her to it and walk away.

And, although he’d made it a rule never to spend the night with anyone, he’d break it for her. ‘Yes. I’ll stay.’

He switched off the television and, still holding her close, walked through to her bedroom. Gently, he undressed her. For once it wasn’t about needing to rip her clothes off and sate the desire between them, because desire wasn’t the uppermost feeling. What that feeling was, he didn’t want to examine that too closely—because he had a nasty feeling that he was falling for her. Her brightness, her sweetness, her relaxed and carefree attitude to life.

Bad, bad move. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them to make this into a proper relationship. Not when blood ran so deep and he could end up turning into his father. Hadn’t he already hurt her, albeit unintentionally? What would happen if he let her dismantle all the barriers and all his control, and they had a fight? Would he end up doing what he feared most—repeating his father’s mistakes? Hurting her, the way his father had hurt his mother? And she’d told him that she trusted him completely. How, when he couldn’t trust himself?

On the other hand, how could he walk away when she needed him so badly?

Between them, his head and his heart were ripping him apart.

He lay awake for a long time after she’d fallen asleep; the combination of the unfamiliar bed and the unfamiliar warmth against him meant he couldn’t just relax. And it felt as if something were cracking inside him.

Much, much later, she moved against him. Murmured his name in her sleep. Pressed her mouth to his skin. And he was lost. When he responded, kissing her back, it wasn’t the usual heat between them; this was something different. Something softer, gentler, sweeter. Something that he knew had the power to destroy him.

And, God help him, he found himself welcoming it with open arms.

Carenza had recovered her bounce by their Saturday morning session. She was still wrestling with figures that weren’t working out, but she was back to her happy-go-lucky self, teasing him and tempting him. And Dante was shocked to find himself suggesting that they repeat the previous Sunday.

‘Challenging me to roller skating?’ she teased.

‘Or we could go up to Vesuvius, if you want to play with fire,’ he teased back.

The look on her face was all the reward he needed. Maybe, just maybe, this was going to work out.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ON TUESDAY morning, Dante looked up when he heard the rap on the door at half-past seven, and frowned when he saw Carenza in the doorway. He couldn’t remember making an arrangement to meet her today. Particularly at this time of the morning. He was about to ask her what she was doing here, when he realised how rude that sounded, and changed it to, ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning.’

‘I’m your eight o’clock appointment,’ she said, surprising him.

Since when? It was the first he’d heard of it.

‘And I know it’s not eight o’clock yet, but we need to go now,’ she added, before he could ask.

He looked at her, bemused. ‘Go where?’

‘You’ll see when you get there. Come on, the taxi’s waiting.’

‘Taxi?’ What was she on about? He blew out a breath. ‘Princess, I hate to break this to you, but I have a pile of meetings this morning.’

‘I know. They’re with me. I’m also your nine o’clock appointment. And—’ she said with a smile ‘—just so you know, I’m your appointment for every single slot for the next two days.’

‘What?’ He wasn’t quite following this. Was he having some sort of weird, über-realistic dream? ‘How?’

‘Mariella moved all your meetings,’ she explained.

He felt his eyes widening. ‘She did what?’

‘Don’t worry,’ she said softly as she rummaged under Mariella’s desk and retrieved a small suitcase. ‘You’re not going to be the hot topic on the staff grapevine or anything. I happen to know what today is, and this is my way of saying thank you for helping me with all the mentoring stuff. Mariella approves. She says you work too hard.’

He blew out a breath. ‘If you know what today is, then you also know that I have plans for tonight.’

‘Ah. They’ve also moved by two days. Your mum says you work too hard, too.’

He stared at her. ‘You spoke to my mother?’

‘We had coffee. And pastries. Um, and we had lunch, the other day.’ She retrieved an envelope from the top drawer of Mariella’s desk and checked inside. ‘Good: your passport. I like your mum, by the way.’