Chapter Ten #3
Vito glowered, angry with her for asking and angry with himself for letting himself talk about it.
He had said too much. Why had he said anything?
She was still looking at him curiously when a woman dressed like a prison guard approached them with a tray and Vito huffed out a sigh of relief at being able to sidestep further questioning. ‘What would you like to drink?’
‘Just something soft, please.’
And the crazy thing was that her smile was so sweet as he handed her a glass of lemonsoda that Vito couldn’t stay angry with her for long, although he was watchful when Arianna came across the room to give Flora a brief hug.
‘Flora, you look wonderful,’ she exclaimed.
‘And those shoes!’ Lifting her gaze from the green suede, their hostess slanted Vito an enquiring look.
‘Raffaele and some of the others are in his den, watching the end of the Serie A match. I know, I know—but it is his birthday! You could join them if you like, while I borrow your fiancée and I could introduce her to some people? There are at least three other pregnant women in the room and we could all discuss obstetricians!’
In a different life and at a different time, Vito might have eagerly agreed to this suggestion, much preferring to watch the football match with his friends and leave the women to their own devices—allowing Flora to flash the diamond he’d given her and bask in the admiration of her peers.
And if it had been any other woman, she might have done that.
But Flora just wouldn’t do that, he realised, even if their engagement had been of the more conventional type.
Instinct told him she didn’t see him as a trophy, or as the route to an affluent lifestyle.
She didn’t seem to care about that kind of stuff, and suddenly Vito didn’t want to offload her as if she were an accessory, or an unwanted burden.
He didn’t want to let her go.
‘I think I’ll keep my fiancée company,’ he said easily, placing his hand in the small of her back, and her smile was glittering as she turned her face up to his. ‘Shall we go and circulate and behave like the perfect party guests, cara?’
‘Why not?’
Flora could feel the hard pounding of her heart as Vito took her around the room and started to introduce her to the great and the good, recognising that something had changed. It wasn’t a big deal, but it felt like a significant one.
He was touching her.
It was the lightest and most innocuous touch imaginable, but it was the only thing she was conscious of.
As if he had set her cold skin on fire with the molten flame of desire which was never far from the surface.
Yet hadn’t he always had that effect on her?
In the Laird’s lodge her reaction to him had been instant and overwhelming—she’d never experienced anything like that in her life.
And now she had tasted the pleasure he was capable of giving her—didn’t that make her desire for him even more intense?
In a daze, she tried to stay in the moment as Vito introduced her to people.
She met the social media star who had been clinging onto the politician, and several members of a football team everyone seemed to assume she would have heard of, but hadn’t—which caused a moment of hilarity among the assembled guests.
Everyone was charming and Flora was surprised to find herself quickly feeling at ease.
Maybe that was more to do with the man beside her and the way everyone seemed to regard him, though she noticed the brief bemusement on the faces of the other guests when he introduced her, as if Vito had confounded all their expectations by getting engaged to this unknown Englishwoman. That he was her fiancé.
She found herself saying the word out loud—rolling it around her mouth as though it were a fine wine.
Because wasn’t she allowed to pretend for once that this was a normal relationship?
With Vito’s light touch never leaving her waist, nor him her side—wasn’t it acceptable to play the part expected of her?
It was almost midnight by the time they got back to the Piazza San Babila and the apartment was completely quiet, save for the ticking of a distant clock.
They stood in the entrance hall, where one of the staff must have left two small lamps on, so that the vast space was soft with apricot light and dusky shadows.
‘Thanks for a lovely evening,’ Flora said formally, her fingers digging into the green suede clutch bag which matched her shoes exactly.
‘You enjoyed it, I think,’ he observed, with equal formality.
‘Mmm. I haven’t stayed up this late for ages.
’ She yawned, perhaps a little self-consciously, trying to inject a little normality into an unreal situation as she met the gleam of his eyes.
Something about the fairy tale quality of the subdued lighting and the memory of his touch was making her unwilling to move.
But she wasn’t going to be needy, or open herself up to unnecessary hurt by letting him know that.
He was the one who had set all these silent rules in place, wasn’t he?
A light touch to the small of her back was hardly an indication that he was now filled with a raw and unstoppable passion! ‘Goodnight, Vito.’
His gaze bored into hers. ‘I wish it didn’t have to end,’ he said suddenly.
‘Do you?’ she taunted softly. But she didn’t move, just continued to stare at him.
She was aware that this had become a silent battle of wills—or should that be willpower?
—and she knew the precise moment of his capitulation.
She could sense it in the almost imperceptible change in his big body.
The way his muscles tensed and he sucked in an unsteady breath.
But still Flora waited. Even though she was desperate to touch him, she needed him to make the first move.
Because something told her that was important.
That this wasn’t just about sex, it was about power.
And so far Vito had nearly all the power in their relationship—if you could call it a relationship.
Couldn’t she taste some of it for once—by silently inviting him to do something she knew he wanted just as much as she did?
She tilted her chin upwards and heard the silken whisper of her hair as it brushed against her shoulders and suddenly the man who was all about cool composure cracked, like a sheet of thin ice beneath the hard stamp of a foot.
With a low growl he moved forward to take her in his arms, pulling her close to the beat of his thudding heart as he bent his head to crush his lips to hers.