The Infamous Italian's Secret Baby

Her eyes widened. ‘One dance?’

‘They have begun dancing at the party now that all of the guests have arrived,’ he pointed out dryly, the earlier soft strains of background music having given way to louder dance music.

Bella looked confused. ‘You want to dance with me?’

‘Why not?’ Gabriel wanted to know.

Her cheeks were very pale. ‘Because—well, because—Can you dance? I mean—’

‘You mean considering I am so obviously disadvantaged?’ Gabriel rasped harshly, his expression grim as he acknowledged that she had obviously noticed that, as well as the scar on his face, he also favoured his left leg when he walked.

Not that the disability was anywhere near as bad as it had been five years ago. Gabriel had spent several months in a wheelchair after the accident, several more painful months after that learning to walk again. That he now had the scar and a slight limp as the only visible sign of the car crash, even if unsightly, was a miracle.

Bella gave an impatient shake of her head. ‘You’re about as disadvantaged as a stalking tiger!’

‘I am pleased that you realise that,’ he growled—and had the satisfaction of seeing the heated colour that instantly flooded her cheeks. ‘I am definitely able to dance, Bella. As long as the music is slow,’ he added challengingly.

Slow…! Bella inwardly groaned. What Gabriel really meant by that was he could dance to the sort of music where a man held the woman closely in his arms…Her mouth firmed. ‘I was actually thinking of excusing myself and going to bed—’

‘Was that an invitation for me to join you?’ he smoothly inserted.

‘No, it most certainly was not!’ She flushed slightly as she almost screeched her indignation with the suggestion. Definitely an overreaction to that sort of temptation…

He shrugged. ‘Then I believe I will return to the party once you have left and ask that Brian introduce me to your parents.’

Bella glared across the table at him. ‘You rat! You absolute, unmitigated—’