One Passionate Night: Her Brooding Italian Boss / The Heiress's Secret Baby / Best Friend to Wife and Mother?

Confused, she pulled the dress out of the box. The material was sinfully soft, rich in texture, like a chiffon or organza. A card sat in the crinkled tissue paper that had caressed the dress. She grabbed it, opened it and read, “Cara, go to the opening. Constanzo.”

She stared at the card, then burst out laughing. This was just too weird. How did he know she wasn’t going to the opening? Unless he’d realized that she’d refused to go to the opening with Antonio because she had nothing to wear? She had mentioned that to him—

What difference did it make? Antonio was gone. She didn’t have money for a taxi. Antonio had taken the limo. And she couldn’t get the doorman to bring the Jag around because she didn’t speak Spanish. Constanzo might want her to go, but the dress had arrived an hour too late. Which was too bad. She’d really like to go to that opening and show vain, conceited, jumping-to-conclusions Antonio he had nothing to worry about from her.

She tapped the note against her palm, then glanced at it again and smiled. It was printed on Constanzo’s stationery and had his cell number on it.

She glanced at the dress, glanced at the card, glanced at herself in the mirror with her hair curled but not combed. She might look like a street person right now, but Antonio had been the one to say he wanted to paint her. Considered her classically beautiful. Kissed her. She hadn’t been the one to make passes at him. So why was he acting as if she were someone to be afraid of?

Anger bubbled in her stomach. How dare he behave as if she was the one with the crush on him and insultingly leave her behind when he was the one who’d kissed her?

The shy Kentucky girl in her filled with fire. She raced to the kitchen and picked up the phone the staff probably used to order groceries.

It took three rings before Constanzo answered. “Hello?”

“I need a coach.”

“Excuse me.”

“You sent me a Cinderella dress but it came too late for me to go to the opening. Antonio’s long gone with the limo. I can’t go with him to the gallery.”

“I will call the driver and have him come back for you.”

“I want the Jag.”

Constanzo laughed. “Excuse me.”

“I want the Jag. If I’m going to go to the trouble of getting all dolled up...I’m making an entrance.”

Constanzo laughed with glee. “That’s my girl. I’ll call the doorman and tell him to have the keys waiting for you when you get downstairs.”

“You better also get my name on the guest list for the opening. I’m pretty sure a fancy gathering like this one is by invitation only.”

“I’ll have Bernice call.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Go knock his socks off.”

CHAPTER EIGHT (#uf159c5c3-e277-5e99-be4c-c0c71cd5b6d0)

STANDING IN THE main room of the gallery, pressed in by art aficionados, Antonio glanced at his watch. His return to the world of art had been a subtle, almost disappointing, one. Olivia had other clients—working clients—she was schmoozing right now. Tucker had found two business acquaintances he was talking up. And Antonio stood by a gallery owner from Madrid who desperately wanted him to do a showing.

Half of him had gone breathless at the prospect. The other half wanted to run in terror.

The screech of a car grinding to a stop stabbed into the noise of the gallery. He looked up, past Juanita Santos to the wall of windows behind her. A red Jag had pulled up to the curb for valet parking. His eyes narrowed. That looked just like Constanzo’s car.

The driver’s door opened. A spike heel emerged, connected to one long, slim leg.

His eyebrows rose. The crowd outside the gallery turned to the newcomer. Men smiled. Women gave her the once-over.

Antonio’s mouth fell open as Laura Beth tossed the keys to the valet.

With her hair pulled up, piled high on her head, and looking luscious in the slim black dress, she walked the cobblestone path like a model working the catwalk. The dress rode her curves, accenting her womanly figure, but the black color gave her a sleek, sophisticated air. In her worn jeans and goofy librarian work clothes, she was an all-American girl. In this dress, she was a woman.

And all eyes were on her.

His heart caught and his breathing faltered, but he ignored them. He wasn’t in a position to get involved with her. Though looking at her in that dress, he was again tempted. Still, for all he knew, Constanzo had set this up. But even if he hadn’t, his reasons for staying away from Laura Beth were sound. Responsible. He feared watching her belly swell with child, but his first marriage had also made him jaded, angry. She was absolutely too nice for him. And right now she was about to be rejected at the door.

A gentleman, he couldn’t let that happen. He turned to Juanita. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course.”

He headed for the door, his heart thundering in his chest with fear that she’d be embarrassingly refused entrance. Instead, the young man smiled and motioned for her to enter.

She dipped her head in thanks and glided into the crowd.

He stopped and waited for her to see him. When she did, she approached him.

“Well, look at you.”

She smiled slowly. “You’ve got to stop stealing my good lines.”

He laughed. “I’m glad you’re here, but I’m afraid I’m—”

He was about to say busy, when Olivia raced over. “Laura Beth?”

She raised her hands. “In the flesh.”

Olivia squealed with joy. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m spending a few weeks with Antonio, helping him try to clear out his office.”

One of Olivia’s eyebrows rose as she looked at Antonio, who clearly hadn’t mentioned that her best friend was living with him.

Laura Beth laughed. “Don’t worry. Constanzo hired me. Antonio didn’t. So he’s not really cooperating.”

Olivia tilted her head at him. “Pity.”

Then Laura Beth totally surprised him by squeezing Olivia’s hand and saying, “I’d love to chat. But Antonio was just telling me that he’s busy. I’m assuming you’ve got people for him to meet, so I’m going to walk around the gallery and, you know, browse.”

Olivia gave her a quick hug. “Have fun. I do have a few people I’d like Antonio to meet. But maybe we can catch up tomorrow.”

Laura Beth smiled mysteriously. “Maybe.”

Then she turned and walked away.

Antonio watched the slight sway of her hips, the long curve of her spine, as she moved away from him.