The Sicilian's Bought Cinderella

Aislin’s face when they’d walked into their room and she’d seen the replacement dress hanging on the wardrobe had been a picture in itself.

She’d put her forefinger and thumb together. ‘I came this close to choosing this dress.’

‘So I heard. What stopped you?’

‘I thought I would look a fool in it.’

‘You could never look a fool.’ And then, because it had been a good six hours since he’d last made love to her, he’d taken her to bed.

Losing himself in her eager, welcoming body had been enough to dislodge the bitterness the wedding had brought out in him.

He felt himself stiffen to remember all the things they had done to each other.

Catching his eye in the reflection of the mirror they were stood in front of, Aislin gave him her best schoolteacher look. ‘Just the buttons, Moncada.’

He saluted then set to work on the tiny gold buttons that would keep the dress in place.

Done, he stayed where he was, content to gaze at her. ‘You’re beautiful.’

Her cheeks pinked and she smiled. ‘So are you.’

‘I’m glad we ruined your first dress.’

‘So am I.’

The replacement dress was strapless and skimmed the top of her cleavage. Dark cream with embellished gold embroidery, it hugged her waist and flared at her hips, falling to her calves at the front and to her ankles at the back. The personal shopper had matched it with cream high heels.

As their love-making had ruined her hair again, she’d twisted it into another knot. Like the night before, the knot was messy but striking, and suited her perfectly. Like the night before, he wouldn’t have her any other way. He liked that she’d never been one to perfect hairdos over and over until she could create them with her eyes closed.

‘We should go before I give in to temptation and ruin this dress too.’

She hooked her arms around his neck and pressed her lips lightly to his. ‘When we get back to the room later, I will help you ruin it.’

He groaned and forced his legs back, away from her.

Feeling giddy and full of fizz, as if she could jump up and defy gravity to fly, Aislin held his hand tightly to keep her grounded on their walk to the ballroom, where the evening reception party was being held.

She would not allow herself to think that this was their last night together or dissect why his cynical comments about marriage had struck like a blow.

This was a night for celebration and their last opportunity to convince Riccardo D’Amore that they were in love.

She would not allow herself to acknowledge the wrench in her heart or what it meant.

As they walked through the banquet room, tonight transformed into a second bar, a man striding towards them caught her eye and stopped her in her tracks. As tall as Dante and almost as handsome, there was something about him...

‘Who’s that?’ The whispered question was hardly out of her mouth when the man spotted Dante.

He greeted him with a huge embrace and kisses to his cheeks. They exchanged a few words before he waved an apologetic hand and hurried off.

‘Who was that?’ she repeated.

Dante stared at her with narrowed eyes. ‘Tonino Valente. Why do you ask?’

‘There’s something familiar about him.’ She screwed up her eyes, trying to think where she’d seen him before.

‘He owns the castle. Riccardo is throwing his weight around and keeping all the staff on their toes. Tonino’s flown in to troubleshoot.’

‘How do you know him?’