rocketing success. He’d bought her the house of her dreams in Lake Como, and made sure she always had plenty of money to buy whatever she wanted. But lately whenever he’d visited her she’d started to profess concern. With one failed marriage and a string of unhappy relationships behind him, it had only seemed to Renata that her son had lost all sense of priority.
It should be the people in his life who were important, she’d told him—not his business or the grand houses he bought—and if he continued in this soulless way then she would sell the richly decorated house on its exclusive plot by the lake and purchase a hut in the hills instead! After all, she’d been raised as a shepherd’s daughter, and she wasn’t ashamed to go back to where she’d begun even if he was. Someone had to show him what values were.
Dante grimaced at the hurtful memory of her distressed face and quavering voice when she’d said this to him in the hospital.
To diffuse his despair he deliberately brought his mind back to the titian-haired Anna Bailey. His reaction was purely male and instinctive, and his body tightened instantly. It was as though someone had stoked a fire beneath his blood and set it ceaselessly simmering. Reaching for his discarded watch, he impatiently scanned the time, all but boring a hole in the door with his naked, hungry glance as he waited for her to arrive—not once allowing himself to think that she wouldn’t…
As if needing to enquire about something, her brooding new friend had leaned across the bar on his way out and whispered softly to Anna, ‘Let’s have that drink together in my room. I’m staying in the suite on the top floor. It would mean a lot to me… especially tonight. Please don’t disappoint me.’
His lips had been a hair’s breadth away from her ear and his warm breath had all but set her alight. The seductive sensation had been the mesmerising equivalent of an intoxicating cocktail she was powerless to refuse. She knew it would make her dizzy and light-headed, but it still held a potent allure she couldn’t ignore.
Anna had watched Dan’s tall broad-shouldered physique as he left the bar with her heart thumping. Now, in the privacy of her room, she blew out a trembling breath, dropping down onto the padded stool in front of the dressing table because she hardly trusted her legs to keep her upright.
The enigmatic stranger was staying in the only suite in the building. It was the most luxurious and gorgeous accommodation she had ever seen. With its beautiful Turkish kelims hanging on the walls, artisan-created bespoke furniture and under-floor heating, no expense had been spared in its creation and it cost a small fortune to stay there for even one night.
Biting her lip, Anna peered into the dressing table mirror to gauge if her expression was as terrified as she felt. Was she really contemplating visiting a male guest in his room? Talking to that lovely couple who’d been to the theatre earlier, she had felt such a pang of envy at their closeness. It wasn’t very often she succumbed to feelings of loneliness, but somehow tonight she had. What had he meant when he’d whispered, It would mean a lot to me…especially tonight? Was he feeling lonely too? Had the funeral she guessed he’d attended been for someone really close to him? His wife perhaps?
A heavy sigh, part compassion, part longing, left her. If anyone saw her go to his room then she really could lose her job. Was the loneliness that had infiltrated her blood tonight making her a little desperate? Not to mention reckless? Sighing again, Anna went into the bathroom to splash her face with cold water.
Back in the main room, she glanced unseeingly at the television that sat there. Somehow a late-night movie or talk show didn’t hold any draw for her. Neither did curling up in bed alone with her thoughts appeal. She’d sensed an inexplicable overwhelming connection to the man who had whispered in her ear downstairs and it was somehow impossible to ignore it. Tomorrow he might be gone, she reasoned feverishly.
She would be wondering what might have been—and the feeling would gnaw away at her if she didn’t act.
With fingers that shook, she freed her hair from the neatly coiled bun she’d got so adept at fashioning for work, then pulled a careless brush through the river of auburn silk that flowed down her back. Pinching her cheeks to make them pinker, she quickly changed into a dark green top and light blue jeans. He only wants to talk, she reassured herself as she walked out into the corridor. But her pulse beat with fright because he might have been looking for something more…something that in her heart of hearts she secretly longed for.
Flicking an anxious glance towards the small elevator that would soundlessly deliver her to the topmost floor, Anna sucked in a breath as she walked towards it.
The memory of Dan and his haunting mist-coloured eyes came back to her, cutting a swathe through her sudden doubt. Just because he was rich it didn’t mean that he didn’t suffer like everyone else…didn’t mean that he didn’t need help sometimes. And from her very first glimpse of him Anna had known he was tortured by something.
The polite welcome he’d intended got locked inside his throat when Dante opened the door to the vision that confronted him. She wore her bright auburn hair loose, and it resembled a burnished autumn sunset cascading down over her shoulders. His stomach muscles clamped tight and the saliva in his mouth dried to a sun-baked desert.
Finding his voice, he murmured, ‘Come in.’
Stepping inside, Anna smiled. It was shy and brief, but it still gave him a jolt that had his heart thrumming with undeniable excitement.
‘What can I get you to drink?’ Moving across the gold and red Chinese rug that covered the main area of the polished wooden floor, Dante paused in front of the dark mahogany glass-fronted cabinet that contained several bottles of spirits behind it and rested his gaze on Anna.
‘Nothing, thanks. Alcohol and me don’t mix, I’m afraid. Just one sip is enough to make me dizzy.’
‘A soft drink, then?’
‘Please… just see to yourself. I’m fine, really.’
Dropping his hands restlessly to his hips, he let a rueful grin hijack his lips.
‘I think I’ve probably had quite enough for one night.’
‘You’ve decided not to drown your sorrows after all?’
‘Not now that you’ve consented to visit me, Anna.’
She crossed her arms over her dark green top, and Dante couldn’t think of a colour that would complement her pale satin skin more. Without warning, the fresh, searing pain of his recent loss swept over him. It returned with renewed force and he wanted to reach out, anchor himself to life again, remind himself that even though his mother had gone beauty and grace were still his to appreciate if only he’d take the trouble to see it. If he brushed up close to such admirable qualities in Anna would it relieve him of the bitter, despairing thoughts that pounded on him so disturbingly? Thoughts that confirmed his growing belief that he must be no good?
Yes, his nature was clearly unlovable and unworthy of regard—hadn’t his own father abandoned him?—so perhaps he deserved abandonment by the people close to him? Especially when he’d been so ruthlessly focused on making himself rich that he scarcely saw the needs of anyone else.
‘It upsets me when you look like that,’ Anna confessed softly.
‘Like what? ‘
‘As if you don’t like yourself very much.’
‘Is there no hiding from that all-seeing gaze of yours?’ Dante retorted uncomfortably.
‘I just want to help you if I can.’
‘Do you? Do you really?’
‘Of course I do. Why do you think I came? Would you like to talk about it?’
‘No, sweetheart. Talking is not what I need right now,’ he answered, gravel-voiced.
And for a man who had prided himself on achieving anything he put his mind to in life it was ironically too difficult a task to keep the raw need that surged