Modern Romance September Books 1-4. Julia James
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Dante breathed in a driven undertone. ‘In fact, if we had the time I’d be hauling you back upstairs right now!’
Eyes widening in astonishment at that bold admission, Belle stared at him and a piece of croissant went down the wrong way. Choking, she gasped and coughed, eyes streaming as she took a drink to clear her tight throat. Well, she guessed she had just got her answer about what happened next, but she hadn’t expected to receive it quite so directly.
‘I’m a passionate guy. I can’t change what I am,’ Dante murmured huskily. ‘But I’m hoping you feel the same way.’
Belle chewed tautly at the soft fullness of her lower lip and could feel the flames breaking out below her skin, an anticipatory warm dampness flowering between her thighs while her nipples tightened in response. ‘Er...yes.’
‘You see,’ Dante pronounced with satisfaction. ‘Nothing between us has to be complicated.’
And she thought, He can’t possibly be so clever and yet so stupid at the same time, can he? Because their relationship had become extremely complicated, not least because of the contraceptive mishap the day before and his desire to continue their intimacy undeterred by that development.
‘You think I’ll be more convincing playing your lover if I actually am?’ Belle queried.
‘If I didn’t want you I wouldn’t be with you,’ Dante said drily. ‘And I wanted you the instant I saw you.’
Belle shifted in her seat, helplessly gratified by that admission.
‘There had to be chemistry for us to do this,’ Dante pointed out. ‘I could hardly pretend to be living with a woman who didn’t attract me.’
‘Obviously not.’ Belle squashed down the urge to ask him how often he saw a woman he immediately wanted in the way he had evidently wanted her. Probably ten or more times a day, she scolded herself ruefully. It bothered her that in his radius she jumped like a fish at a hook, overanalysing his every word, quite unable to re-establish the cool, calm outlook that usually guided her around men.
It was different with Dante; she was different with Dante. He was more in every way than every other man she had ever met, better looking, smarter, more sophisticated and unarguably richer. She recognised her subconscious wish that she was something more special to him than a passing fancy and she almost grimaced with self-loathing. There was no future in their arrangement and the last thing she needed to do was start getting attached to him or developing unrealistic expectations. Cinderella rarely got her prince in the real world.
‘Those who know me will be surprised enough that I have moved a woman into my home with me,’ Dante admitted, raking impatient fingers through his unruly black hair. ‘I have always been very forthright about my lack of interest in marriage and my desire to retain my freedom. So, as a couple, we do have to put on a convincing show.’
‘You’re making me more and more curious about this business deal that is so important to you,’ Belle confided. ‘It must be something pretty special to make you go to these lengths to attain it.’
‘Krystal’s husband, Eddie, owns a piece of land that I hope to reclaim.’
Belle frowned. ‘Reclaim?’ She questioned his choice of that word.
‘The land used to belong to my brother and he was very attached to it. My parents sold it off when I was abroad on business because they’re not sentimental people.’
‘Couldn’t you have bought the land direct from them?’ she asked.
‘No, they would have made other demands of me. I don’t put myself in a vulnerable position with them,’ he replied in a guarded tone, glancing across the room in relief as a collection of suitcases on a trolley were wheeled towards the lift. ‘I believe it’s time for us to leave.’
* * *
Dante worked during the flight, barely lifting his head from his laptop. Belle pondered the situation she was about to enter, the ‘snake pit’ as Dante had referred to it as. An array of unappealing characters awaited her, it seemed, the nasty parents, the clingy troublemaking ex from hell. But no, when he didn’t get on well with his parents, she would hardly be dragged out to meet them, she reasoned, striking his titled parents from the list of challenges ahead. Instead she concentrated on her reunion with Charlie.
The cluster of shouting and gesticulating press-waving cameras as they emerged from the VIP channel at the airport came as a rude wake-up call. ‘Look happy,’ Dante urged in her ear as he locked a supportive hand to her stiff spine. Belle smiled and all the cameras obediently flashed. He didn’t pause to respond to the questions being hurled at him. Security guards escorted them out to the waiting limousine.
‘You’re clearly quite a celebrity in Italy. You should’ve mentioned that,’ Belle told him.
‘Gossip columnists take a ridiculous interest in my private life and for once I’ve given them something to report...thanks to you.’
‘What have I got to do with it?’ Belle demanded.
‘You insisted that you be allowed to be yourself and I have given you your wish. When my staff were asked to identify you, they admitted that you were a waitress I met in France and the press do love to wallow in a whirlwind romance,’ Dante declared with cynical amusement.
‘I just wasn’t expecting that level of public interest in your life,’ Belle told him, already beginning to regret her insistence that she go under her own name with Dante as she wondered if her father would read about her in some newspaper.
On the other hand, she couldn’t imagine her father reading a gossip column, but what did she know about the man? Very little and hopefully any publicity would be confined to the Italian press. Yet her self-respect cringed at the possibility of her father learning that she had moved in with a very rich Italian because he would no doubt assume that she was faithfully following in her gold-digging mother’s footsteps. And she didn’t want to give her long-absent father the excuse to believe that he had been right not to pursue a more normal relationship with her. His rejection and the injustice of being held accountable for her mother’s sins still stung.
Charlie greeted her with rapture at the smart boarding kennels, bounding into her arms as if they had been parted for months. She petted him and calmed him down before turning to Dante to say, ‘Let’s go and say hello to your brother’s dogs while we’re here.’
Dante frowned. ‘I don’t think...’
‘Don’t be mean, Dante,’ Belle argued fierily. ‘Imagine how boring it must be in here for them every day and how much it will mean to them to get a visit.’
Incredulous at being called mean for the first time in his life, Dante spread lean brown hands in frustration and annoyance. ‘Five minutes...that’s all,’ he specified. ‘And that’s all you’ll want because they’re frantic little beasts with no manners at all.’
‘We’ll put Charlie into his travelling box and leave him out here while we visit them. It wouldn’t be fair to unsettle them with a strange dog,’ Belle remarked as she persuaded Charlie into the box. ‘You know, Dante...dogs can learn manners. With a little training, you might find them perfectly acceptable. I’m willing to help if I can.’
‘They’re not coming home with us,’ Dante swore vehemently, registering that when he gave an inch with Belle she tried to take a mile.
‘OK,’ Belle conceded, wondering how long it would take to change his mind as he addressed the proprietor and they were led down a corridor giving access to a line of kennels.
‘They jump up at you and drop hair everywhere,’ Dante complained, angry that he had allowed himself to be shamed into doing something he didn’t want to do.
Belle didn’t know what breed of dog she had expected Dante’s late brother to have owned but she was surprised to see two tiny short-haired chihuahuas, one brown, one