“Yes, thank you.” After a moment of hesitation, I took the ring out and put it on my finger. Dante hadn’t given any indication that he wanted to do it for me. My gaze flickered toward his right hand and my stomach plummeted. He was still wearing his old wedding ring. Another strange burst of disappointment filled me. If he wore it after all this time, he must still be in love with his dead wife—or was it a simple matter of habit?
He noticed my gaze and for the first time his stoic mask slipped, but it was gone so quickly that I wasn’t sure I’d actually seen it. He didn’t give me an explanation or an apology, but I hadn’t expected one from a man like him.
“Your father requests that we do a social outing before the actual wedding. As we all agreed that an actual engagement party is unnecessary…” I’d never been asked, but I wasn’t even surprised. “…I suggest we attend the annual Christmas party of the Scuderi family together.”
For as long as I could remember, my family had been at the Scuderi house on the first Sunday in Advent. “That sounds like a reasonable idea.”
Dante gave me a cool smile. “Then that’s settled. I’ll let your father know when I’ll pick you up.”
“You can tell me. I have a phone and am capable of operating it.”
Dante stared. There was a flicker of something like amusement on his face for a second. “Of course. If that’s what you prefer.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your number?”
I needed a moment to suppress an unladylike snort of laughter before I could give it to him.
When he was done typing, he stuffed his phone back into his jacket, then he straightened without another word. I rose as well and took my time smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in my skirt to mask my annoyance behind schooled pleasantness.
“Thank you for your time,” he said formally. I really hoped he’d loosen up after our wedding. He wasn’t always so restrained. I’d heard the stories about how he’d established his position as the heir to his father’s title and how efficient he was when it came to dealing with traitors and enemies. There was something dark and feral behind his ice prince demeanor.
“You’re welcome.” I walked toward the door, but Dante beat me to it and held it open for me. I said a quick thanks before I stepped into our lobby. “I’ll get my parents so they can say goodbye.”
“Actually, I would like to have a word with your father in private before I leave.”
It was futile trying to get any information from his expression, so I didn’t bother. Instead I strode to the end of the corridor and knocked at my father’s office door. The voices inside died down and a moment later, my father opened the door. Mamma stood directly behind him. From the look on her face I could tell that she was eager to bombard me with questions, but Dante was close behind me.
“Dante would like to have a word with you,” I said, then turned around to Dante. “Until the Christmas party.” I considered brushing his cheeks with my lips but discarded that idea immediately. Instead I tilted my head with a smile before walking away.
My mother’s heels clacked behind me, then she fell into step beside me. She linked our arms. “How did it go? Dante didn’t look too pleased. Did you do something that offended him?”
I gave her a look. “Of course not. Dante’s face is frozen in one expression.”
“Shhh.” Mamma looked behind us. “What if he hears you?”
I didn’t think he’d care.
Mamma scanned my face. “You should be happy, Valentina. You won the husband lottery, and I’m sure there’s a passionate lover hidden beneath Dante’s cold exterior.”
“Mamma, please.” I’d suffered through two sex talks with my mother in my life so far: first the one where she tried to tell me about the birds and the bees when I was fifteen and already well aware of the mechanics of sex. Even in a Catholic girls’ school that information got around at some point. And the second shortly before my wedding to Antonio. I didn’t think I’d survive a third one.
But I hoped she was right. Thanks to Antonio’s disinterest in women, I’d never had the chance to enjoy a passionate lover, or any lover really. I was more than ready to finally be rid of my virginity, even if that would pose the risk of Dante finding out my first marriage had been for show—but I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.
CHAPTER TWO
Dante picked me up at quarter to six as promised. Not a minute too late or too soon. I hadn’t expected anything else. My parents had already left a few minutes ago. As the future head of the Outfit, Dante couldn’t arrive too early to the party.
He was wearing another three-piece suit in navy blue with light blue pinstripes and a matching tie. I froze for a moment when I saw him. My dress was navy too. People would think we’d done it on purpose, but there was nothing to be done about it now. I’d followed a strict detox diet for three days to fit into the tight backless dress; I wasn’t going to wear something else. Despite its long pencil skirt reaching my calves, the slit up to my thigh allowed me to climb stairs without too much trouble.
Dante’s eyes did a quick scan. “You look beautiful, Valentina.” He was being polite. There was absolutely no sign that he actually found me attractive.
“Thank you.” I smiled and stepped up to him. He touched my lower back to lead me toward his black Porsche parked at the curb and tensed as his palm came into contact with my naked skin. I wasn’t sure but I thought I heard him release a rushed breath, and the possibility that he might be affected by me, coupled with the feel of his touch, sent a shiver of delight down my spine. He planted his hand lightly on my back and gave no further indication that I’d taken him by surprise with my partial nakedness as he guided me toward the passenger door and held it open for me. I slid in, almost giddy with triumph over the fact that I’d managed to get a reaction out of the iceman. Once we were married, I’d try to do it more often.
* * *
The other guests had already arrived when we pulled up in front of the Scuderi mansion. We could have walked, if it weren’t for the four inches of snow, safety concerns and my high heels. Dante hadn’t bothered with small talk during our drive. His mind seemed far away anyway. When he put his hand on my naked back this time, he gave no outward reaction.
Ludevica Scuderi opened the door for us. Her husband Rocco, the current Consigliere to Dante’s father, hovered behind her, his hands on her shoulders. They both smiled brightly as they ushered us into the pleasantly warm foyer. An eight-foot Christmas tree, decorated with red and silver baubles, dominated the space.
“We’re delighted that you could make it,” Ludevica said warmly.
Rocco shook Dante’s hand. “I have to congratulate you on your excellent taste. Your future wife looks marvelous, Dante.”
It was obvious that they were going out of their way to be nice. Although it was desirable for a new Capo to keep the Consigliere of his predecessor, it wasn’t tradition, so Dante could nominate a new Consigliere when he took over from his father.
Dante inclined his head and returned his hand to my back. “That she is,” he said simply while all I could do was smile.
Ludevica clutched my hands. “We were pleased when we found out Dante had chosen you. After all you’ve gone through, it’s only fair that fate makes it up to you.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Maybe she was being sincere. It was hard to tell. After all, they’d originally tried to marry Gianna off to Dante. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”
“Come on in. The party isn’t happening in our foyer,” Rocco said, gesturing for us to head for the living room. Laughter and voices were coming from inside.
“Aria is very excited to see you again,” Ludevica said as we entered the living room. I had no time to express my surprise at Aria’s presence because the moment we were spotted by the crowd, people flocked around us to congratulate us on our betrothal and upcoming wedding. In between shaking hands, I scanned the room. Aria stood at the other end of the vast room next to another massive Christmas tree and her no-less-massive husband Luca, who had a possessive hand on her waist. I didn’t see Gianna and her fiancé Matteo anywhere. If my mother’s gossip was to be believed, the Scuderis were concerned their middle daughter might cause a scene.
Dante moved his thumb over my back, startling me. My eyes snapped to him, then to the couple in front of us, whom I’d completely ignored because of my staring. I gave my brightest smile and pulled Bibiana into a hug. “How are you?” I whispered. She squeezed me briefly, then drew back with her forced smile. That was as much of an answer as I would get in the presence of other people.
Her husband Tommaso, who was thirty years her senior, bald and overweight, kissed my hand, which would have been fine except for the look in his eyes. Leering was the best word to describe it. Dante’s fingers on my back tensed and I risked a peek at him, but his expression was the same aloof mask as usual. He fixed Tommaso with his eyes and the man quickly took off with Bibiana.
A waiter carrying a tray of drinks stopped beside us, and Dante gripped a glass of champagne for me and a Scotch for himself. Now that the onslaught of well-wishers had finally abated, Luca and Aria crossed the room toward us. Dante’s demeanor changed ever so slightly, like a tiger that got wind of another predator in his territory. Instead of tensing, he relaxed as if to show that he wasn’t concerned, but his eyes were alert and calculating.
Luca and Dante shook hands, both with those unnerving shark-smiles on their faces. Ignoring them, I grinned at Aria, honestly happy to see her again. It had been months. She looked much more relaxed than at her wedding. “You look amazing,” I told her as I embraced her. She was wearing a dark red dress that set off her blonde hair and pale skin beautifully. No wonder Luca couldn’t stop glancing her way.
“You too,” she said as she stepped back. “Can I see the back?”
I turned around for her.
“Wow. Doesn’t she look amazing?”
That question was directed at Luca and led to an awkward pause in which the tension skyrocketed. Dante wrapped his arm around my waist, his cold eyes on Luca, who took Aria’s hand, kissed it and said in a low voice, “I have eyes only for you.”
Aria gave me an embarrassed smile. “I need to look for Gianna, but I’d love to talk to you later?”
“Okay,” I said, glad when she and Luca walked off. With the men around, Aria and I wouldn’t be able to talk anyway.
I turned to Dante. “You don’t like him.”
“It’s not a matter of like. It’s about self-preservation and a healthy dose of suspicion.”
“That’s the Christmas spirit,” I said, not trying to hide my sarcasm.
Again a hint of amusement made the corners of Dante’s mouth twitch, then it was gone. “Would you like to grab something to eat?”
“Definitely.” After the last few days of torturous dieting, I was starving. As we made our way through the crowd, I noticed that the current head of the Outfit wasn’t present. “Where’s your father?”
“He didn’t want to steal the show from us. Now that he’s as good as retired, he prefers to stay out of the public eye,” Dante said wryly.
“Understandable.” These social functions were exhausting. You had to be careful what you said and did, even more so as the head of the Outfit. From the hard looks that some of the women were throwing my way, I knew I was currently their favorite topic. I knew what they were saying behind their hands: Why had Dante Cavallaro chosen a widow instead of a young, innocent bride?
I glimpsed up into his emotionless face, the hard angles of his cheekbones, the calculation and vigilance in his eyes, and found myself wishing once more that the answer to that question was something other than pure logic.
The buffet was loaded with Italian delicacies. I took a slice of panettone for myself, as I was in desperate need of some sugary treats. As usual it tasted like heaven. I’d made it a few times, but it had never been as good as Ludevica Scuderi’s.
“Dante,” came a pleasant female voice from behind us.