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

‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

‘I know.’ Just as she hadn’t intended this evening to be such a nightmare for him. She paused. ‘So did you know that woman?’

He shook his head. ‘I’ve never seen her before.’

She needed to know the truth. ‘I saw you write something on the back of a card and give it to her.’

Dante looked at Carenza. He had a choice: he could either let her think he’d given the woman his number and he was cheating on her—which would hurt her and wasn’t true anyway—or he could tell her the truth and would no doubt have to field some awkward questions. But there was no demanding, shrewish look on her face; she clearly feared the worst and was trying to bite back the hurt, just as he’d done so often in his life. Which made the decision easy for him. ‘It was the number of a refuge.’

She frowned. ‘How do you know the number of a refuge?’

‘I …’ This was really hard for him to talk about. But he owed her the truth. ‘I support it.’

‘Support?’

The question made him squirm; he hated people banging on about the work they did for charity. In his view, the people who shouted loudest about it were the ones who cared the least; they were doing it to make themselves look good, not because they wanted to make a real difference. ‘Charitable donation,’ he muttered.

‘Why would you support … ?’ Carenza began. Then she remembered what her grandfather told her about Dante having a hard time as a child. The fact that there hadn’t been a photograph of his father in Dante’s flat. And suddenly it all fell together. ‘So that’s why you don’t let people close.’

‘What?’ He stared at her, looking shocked. ‘You’re jumping to conclusions. Wrong ones.’

‘No, I’m not. Nonno said you had a hard time as a child. He wouldn’t tell me any more than that, didn’t break any confidences,’ she reassured him swiftly. ‘But if you support a refuge now, there’s a pretty good chance that you do it because a refuge once helped someone you know. And if it happened when you were a kid, my guess is that it was your mum.’

Hearing it spoken out loud made him flinch. She noticed and took his hand. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want to reopen old wounds. I just want to understand what makes you—well, you.’

‘I wish you really were an airhead princess,’ he said. ‘Then you wouldn’t even have noticed, let alone worked it out.’

‘That’s why you went to rescue that woman. Because you’ve seen it happen before.’

‘Yes.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Caz, I really don’t want to talk about this. Back off. Please.’

That last word stopped her asking any more. Instead, she pushed her chair back, walked round to his side of the table and wrapped her arms round him. ‘I’m so sorry that tonight brought bad stuff back for you. It was meant to be fun. You and me.’

‘It’s not your fault. You weren’t to know this would happen.’

‘Do you think she’ll be all right?’

He shrugged. ‘The first step is the hardest. If she just has the courage to ring that number, then she’ll get the help she needs.’

Was that how his family had got the help they needed? she wondered. Not that she was going to ask. This was clearly too painful for him—and he’d asked her to back off. So she just held him, willing him to take strength from her. To let himself lean on her.

And eventually he moved, settled her on his lap and kissed her. ‘Thank you. For not judging. For not pushing.’

His words put such a huge lump in her throat, she couldn’t answer him. All she could do was kiss him. Softly. Gently.

Except, as always, desire flared between them. The kiss turned hot, and the next thing she knew they were in her bedroom and Dante was peeling her dress off.

He flinched when he saw the bruise on her side. ‘Oh, Caz. I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.’

She twisted so she could see the bruise for herself, and sighed. ‘I have my mum’s very fair English skin—bruises show up quickly. Look, Dante, it was an accident.’

But he still looked utterly horrified. Disgusted with himself.

She stroked his face. ‘Dante, I know you’d never hurt me deliberately. It’s like … Oh, I dunno, if I was drying up a glass and the stem broke. It’s a completely different thing from if I’d thrown it at a wall in a fit of temper.’

‘The glass would still be broken,’ he pointed out.

‘But it’s the intent that matters. There was some trouble in the club, you sorted it out, and then you wanted to get me out of there as quickly as possible. You were trying to protect me. And this was an accident.’ She reached up to kiss him. ‘Don’t back away from me now. I think we both need this.’

The expression in his eyes was tortured, but he returned her kiss. And when he finally eased into her it was the sweetest love-making she could remember. Ever. There was a tenderness there that had never existed between them before.

And that was the moment she realised she was falling for him. That this was so much more than just hot sex. Just for a moment, he was letting her close—something she realised now he found so very hard to do—and this was really, really special.

‘Stay tonight?’ she asked softly—and regretted the question immediately, because she could see him closing off again.

‘Best not,’ he said. But his touch was gentle as he stroked her cheek. ‘Stay there. You look comfortable. And cute.’

She could push it, but she didn’t want to break this fragile new understanding between them. She wanted to strengthen it. ‘OK. Call me later.’

‘Yeah.’ Intense yearning passed briefly across his face, but he clearly wasn’t going to let himself give in, because the brooding businessman was back.

As she heard the front door close behind him her heart bled for whatever he’d seen in his childhood. In her view, having a cruel father was much worse than her own situation, growing up with no parents at all but knowing every day how much she was loved. Yes, there was a big hole in her life, and she missed her parents still, but she’d never known anything but love and kindness from her grandparents. Dante’s childhood had clearly been wreathed in shadows. And how she wanted to make things brighter. To fix it.

CHAPTER TEN (#ulink_af945135-f6db-508b-aec4-4e51afa27ed9)

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.’