Page 48 of Stolen Bride for the Don

I make a mental note to look into him. “She’ll definitely love these flowers.”

Andrea nods in acceptance. The topic moves to the engagement dinner tomorrow.

“You know, I’m glad you told me the story of how you got your name. I happen to have a few more of these flowers. I’m going to present a bouquet to your mother tomorrow. Think she’ll be impressed?”

“She’ll adore you for all of eternity.”

I nod. “Excellent. Then I’ll procure a Mantegna original for your father.” That might score me more points than the Cognac I had planned to give him.

“Dad will go nuts for it. Just know it will cost you an arm and leg.”

I wave off her concern, then shoot off a text to Isaac, instructing him to look up auctions carrying any Mantegna work.

“How many guests are we expecting tomorrow?” Andrea asks, and I glance up.

“Two or three members from each of the five ruling families plus your family. So, over a dozen people give or take.”

She nods, now visibly relaxed. “I was expecting more. I can handle a dozen or so.” She nods again, seeming to be lost in thought as she stares at the dusty lavender roses. I can’t help but smile at her mumblings. She’s gorgeous when she doesn’t think I’m watching; she bites her bottom lip and twirls her hair…it’s mesmerizing.

If I’m not careful, she just might be the one making my heart pound.

CHAPTER 30

ANDREA

I cannot deal with a dozen or so people. What the hell was I thinking? Oh, wait, I know. I was thinking it’d be like working the bar at the Liquid Elixir. Then the first pair of people arrive. Then the second. And the third. I realize just how out of my depth I am.

“Breathe, pet,” Hudson murmurs in my ear. “If that dress allows it.”

Surprisingly, Hudson gave me no requirements for tonight’s apparel. I went with the dress he chose for our failed outing; the one with the bustier top, boning through the corset, and long, sheer sleeves. I needed to feel sexy and confident tonight, and this dress accomplishes exactly that mission. If the look on his face when I walked in is any indication, Hudson approves. We both remember what had happened the last time I wore it. A blush creeps up my neck as I reminisce.

We’re standing in the foyer where we receive the guests as they arrive. It doesn’t help that his arms are around my waist, holding me close to his chest. How am I supposed to relax when I can feel his erection on my back? The fiend. How can he be aroused at a time like this?

I glance up to catch him stealing a glimpse of my cleavage. I give him a quailing glare, but he only chuckles. He does that a lot around me now; it turns my heart to mush knowing that I can warm the ice in his eyes. “How many more guests are we expecting?” I ask. Already, there are about fifteen people in the ballroom, which has been temporarily converted into a large, elegant dining area.

“Just one more family. The Rossi’s.” His eyes darken as he says their name like a curse.

“And my family,” I remind him. But he doesn’t look at me. “I take it the Rossi’s aren’t your favorites?”

“You could say that,” he mutters. “Look alive, pet,” he adds when the front door opens. But it’s just my parents.

“Dad!” I move out of Hudson’s grip and run forward to wrap my arms around my father.

“Andrea.” His warm, strong arms settle on my back with a soft pat. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He grins, his honey eyes twinkling.

“Move, John. Let me see our girl,” Mom says, opening her arms. I walk into them with a sigh. “There, there.” She pats my hair, careful not to mess up my chignon. “You look the part of beautiful hostess.” She nods approvingly.

I’ve paired the skin tight dress with sky-high black pumps and the jewelry Hudson had given me. I run my hand down the front of the dress with a small smile and Mom gasps, snatching up my hand.

“Would you look at that, John?” Mom croons, turning my hand around as my ring winks under the warm glow of the chandeliers.

“I told you our girl has the boy smitten,” Dad says proudly. I roll my eyes and turn to beckon Hudson forward, but he’s already right behind me with what I now think of as my flowers. He stares at me with a soft smile. I give him a conspiratory wink as I turn back to my parents.

“Mom, Dad, this is my fiancé, Hu-Massimo.”

“Massimo Moratti.” He passes the bouquet to Mom. “I got these flowers because they remind me of Andrea, but now they’ll also remind me of you because you’re a vision of how stunning she’ll look years from now.”

Mom blushes as she accepts the flowers, averting her eyes downward like a shy little schoolgirl. “Now, boy, don’t go charming my wife right in front of me,” Dad says gruffly.

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