Page 52 of 2 Books in One Bundle

Desire.

And when that magical moment had come, and Dante had indeed looked at her with desire in his dark, gold-flecked eyes, and taken her into his arms to make her his, it had been so much more blissful than she had imagined.

And there had been more—so much more to her fantasy. And it had only grown stronger and stronger with every day she’d spent with Dante in Italy. Those days in Milan...him going off to his office, she to the market, to buy ingredients for their dinner, preparing things, cooking with him...

Like a proper married couple—a real married couple...

Because that, in the end, had been her ultimate fantasy, hadn’t it? To settle down with Dante in married domestic bliss.

It was what her parents had had. She knew that from her own memories and from what her grandmother had told her. For her parents it had been cut tragically short, but for herself and for Dante she had hoped—oh, how she had hoped—that they would be given what her parents had not had. What Dante’s own parents—however they’d lived their lives—had not had either.

But instead...

Dante never wanted that! Never wanted it at all! Not with me.

She gave a smothered cry and turned away, unable to bear looking at where Dante had sat, offering her the means to keep Gran at home, lifting her crushing money worries from her.

And all she’d had to do was sign her name on a marriage certificate...

For a limited time only.

That stone in her throat was back again, and she could not breathe.

A truth so harsh, so cruel, so brutal, was slamming into her, taking the air from her lungs.

I thought his desire for me would change that—would make him want our marriage to be real for the rest of our lives...

Bitterness filled her mouth.

It was not his fault. It was hers and hers alone.

Mine only.

And she would have to live with it for the rest of her life.

A life without Dante.

CHAPTER NINE

DANTEWASINthe office, working. He was poring over the complex investment plan which one of his financial analysts had prepared for a particularly demanding client. He needed to give it his full attention, but that seemed impossible right now. His brain wouldn’t focus. Not on pages of figures and graphs and lists of potential shareholdings and loans.

There was only one thing his brain could focus on.

Connie.

And she was not with him any longer.

Why?

That was the question burning a hole in his brain. OK, so she’d said she wanted to apply for a Master’s. But couldn’t she have done that from Italy? Everything was online these days; she could easily have applied remotely. And if she’d been offered an interview she could have flown back to the UK for a few days—hell, he’d have gone with her. They could have looked in on the cottage, caught a few days in London...

But no, she’d upped sticks and gone. Just like that.

When we still had months left to be together.

His face tensed. But if she got on this damned course they wouldn’t have months to be together, would they?

Her time here, with me, will be over.

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