His Forbidden Conquest. Kate Hardy
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him.’
‘That’s what the refuge is for. They’ll keep you safe. Ring them,’ Dante said.
Carenza watched as Dante scribbled something on the back of what looked like a business card, and ice trickled down her spine. But he’d come here to the club with her. He surely wouldn’t be chatting up another woman. She had no idea what kind of problem he’d seen, though clearly something had happened because the bouncer she’d spoken to by the door was frogmarching a man out of the club.
Dante turned around and saw her watching him; he left the other woman without a word and came over to her.
‘Everything all right?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ But there was a tightness in his face that worried her. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
‘That guy—did he hit you or something?’ she asked.
‘No,’ he said shortly.
So what was wrong? Why did Dante suddenly look so angry? ‘Do you know that woman?’
‘No. Can we please just go?’ His voice was very, very curt.
She subsided and followed him out of the club.
As soon as they were outside, he made a phone call, then frowned. ‘The taxi can’t pick us up for thirty minutes. We’ll walk.’
She blinked and pointed at her shoes. ‘I can’t walk home in these.’ She could dance in them for a while, but if they’d stayed at the club for much longer she would’ve ended up dancing barefoot. And she certainly couldn’t walk back to her flat—or Dante’s—in them.
He stared at her, then impatience flickered across his face and he scooped her up, clearly intending to carry her.
And he was holding her way too tightly for comfort. ‘Ow, Dante, you’re hurting me,’ she said.
As her words registered he went white and immediately set her on her feet. ‘I’m sorry. I …’ He shook his head, words clearly failing him, and a muscle worked in his jaw.
Something was obviously very badly wrong.
‘I didn’t mean to hurt you,’ he said in a whisper.
‘I know you didn’t.’ She rubbed her side. ‘Dante, what’s going on?’
‘Nothing.’
It was the biggest, fattest lie she’d ever heard, but he clearly wasn’t going to talk. Not here. ‘Let’s just get away from the club,’ she said softly, and took his hand.
He walked beside her, but she had a feeling that he wasn’t seeing anything around them. He was lost somewhere else, and she had no idea what was going on in his head.
At the end of the street there was a bar. It wasn’t perfect but at least it would be quieter than the club. She dragged him inside, made him sit down with a glass of sparkling water, and rang the taxi firm she normally used to book a cab home. She reached across the table and laced her fingers through his, willing him to talk to her, but he’d gone absolutely silent. She’d never seen him like this before, and it really worried her.
When the taxi took them back to her place, Carenza knew that if she asked him up he’d refuse; he’d go back to his place and brood, and she had no intention of letting him do that. Whether he liked it or not, Dante was going to talk to her. ‘See me up to my front door?’ she asked.
‘Sure.’
Just as she’d hoped, his impeccable manners made him get out of the taxi first. Before she joined him, she shoved a large note at the driver. ‘As soon as I get out, drive off, please,’ she said quickly.
‘What about your change?’
‘Keep it.’ Money wasn’t important. This was.
‘Thanks, bella.’ The taxi driver did exactly as she asked.
‘What the … ?’ Dante began as the cab pulled away.
‘My kitchen. Now,’ she said firmly. He looked absolutely haunted, and no way was she going to let him go back to his place in this state.
Once he’d sat down at the table, she heated some milk, added a little brown sugar and cinnamon, and then placed the mug in front of him. ‘This is better for you than an espresso at this time of night,’ she said. ‘Drink.’
He made a face, but did so.
‘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