Page 42 of Beneath the Sapphire Sky

The days with Adelaide were going fantastically. She had even managed to get her mother out and about, something Belle herself had struggled with. Her mother would dig in her heels and flatly refuse. So far, Adelaide had been a huge blessing. The frustration and worry had lifted so much with her presence. Belle loved her mother dearly, but being a primary carer had taken a toll, mentally and emotionally. This last couple of weeks with the pressure relieved had their relationship improving, too.

Her dad nodded and patted her shoulder. “You go have some fun. We’ll be fine here. How will you get there?”

Belle rubbed her hands on the seat of her pants. “I thought I might take the train from Bialga. It’s faster than driving, and I won’t have to worry about parking. It leaves at six AM.”

She looked expectantly at her brother.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you disown me, then want me to drive you to the train station at Oh-God o’clock? That’s rich.”

She sent him the cheesiest grin she could muster. “Pleeease?”

Jackharrumphed. “Fine. You owe me, though.”

A ding from the front counter intruded. Belle glanced out the kitchen doors. “Awesome. I’ll go finish up out front, and if you’re in bed before I get out of here, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Belle pushed through the doors and greeted the customer with a massive grin.

She was going to spend the night with Dante. Again.

She couldn’t help the shivers that ran down her spine. She couldn’t wait to see him. A part of her still worried that they might screw things up, and she knew he wasn’t up for anything long-term, not if what she’d overheard back then still held sway. But she wanted him enough to try, and she certainly wasn’t going to say no.

Because who in their right mind would say no to more nights with a buff, hot-as-hell Mediterranean god?

*

Good news. I’m coming down on the morning train from Bialga. I’ll grab a cab to the hotel if you could leave me a key at the front desk? I’ll get in just after lunchtime.

Dante’s breath deserted him in a great rush. He rubbed at his goosebump-peppered skin. He’d fully expected her to say no, or, at the least, not be able to get the time off. It wasn’t a short trip.

That’s great, B. The course finishes at 3. The college is a good half hour from the hotel, way more in peak traffic. What if we work on me getting back here by 5?

He leaned back into the balcony chair and propped his feet on the low coffee table and crossed his ankles. He rolled his glass of wine across his lips.

He glanced down at the thumbs-up emoji that brightened the screen of his phone.

I’ll message you when I get to Sydney.

A shiver rippled from his head to his toes. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about their night together, didn’t think he ever would if he was totally honest about it. And now he’d have her all to himself for two whole days.

She saidyes.

He shook his head. That particular bit of information seemed to be having a hard time settling into his brain.

Belle Davis, alone in his hotel room, no one to bother them for hundreds of kilometres. No one to gossip if they saw them enter the room together. Not that he cared one way or the other what the nosy busybodies of Kurrajong Crossing ever waffled on about, but Belle did. She’d always kept her nose clean and stayed out of trouble; well, as much as a best friend of hiscouldstay out of trouble.

He knew she’d be worried they’d get caught sneaking around if they met at Mallory-Jayne’s again, simply because they weren’t known as a couple. It would be too easy for someone to see them.

But here in a huge city? No chance.

If they were seen at home, the entire town would expect an announcement that they weretogethertogether. Particularly his father. His father was old-fashioned when it came to relationships and sex.

He cared about Belle and knew she cared for him. A heck of a lot. But after their awkward almost-did in the back seat of his car so long ago, they’d agreed to not go there.

That had obviously changed, but she hadn’t said a word after that mind-blowing night—not that they’d had much chance to talk. He’d be quite happy to continue along the way they seemed to be headed, and maybe even go public with it to see where it led, but unless she said otherwise, casual it was.

Yes, she’d scratched an itch. She’d even said herself that she wanted to lose her virginity, but she’d chosenhim. He had to believe it meant more than a simple one-night stand.

Did he take that, and the fact that she was coming down to spend time with him at face value, that it was simply what they’d agreed to? Basically a booty call? Or should he press and try to worm out of her if she was open to more?

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