The Cost of Her Innocence

‘Okay. First the jewellers and the ring,’ Dante said as they started walking. ‘As it will be a civil ceremony a wedding gown is not necessary, but if you want one...’

‘No way,’ Beth cut in, shooting him a sidelong glance. ‘Sackcloth would do me, but I’ll settle for anything you like,’ she said dryly.

If only that were true, Dante thought, and a fantasy of Beth naked and bound to his bed flitted through his mind.

Five minutes later they were seated in an exclusive jewellers with an assortment of platinum wedding rings on display in front of them. ‘Choose which one you like,’ Dante commanded.

‘No, you choose,’ Beth shot back. ‘After all, this is your idea.’

And in two minutes Dante had done just that. To her amazement he’d picked a pair of matching wedding rings and the jeweller had sized them. Dante paid, left his Rome address for them to be delivered to and they left.

‘I don’t know who was more surprised, the jeweller or me, when you picked those rings,’ Beth said as Dante took her hand and they continued walking. ‘I didn’t see you as the sort of man to wear a wedding ring.’

‘Somehow I don’t think you see me at all,’ Dante said enigmatically, and ushered her into a designer boutique.

While Beth stared around in awe at the elegant interior Dante had a long conversation with two very attentive female assistants.

‘Beth?’ He came back to where she stood, like patience on a monument. ‘These two ladies will take care of you, and you can show me the results.’ He lowered his lean, long-limbed body down on a plush sofa and smiled up at her. ‘Go on, Beth—we don’t have all day.’

‘Yes, oh, master,’ she mocked. She saw another assistant appear and offer Dante coffee. By the way she fussed over him a lot more was on offer, Beth thought snidely, and turned away. She wondered how many other women he had brought here. He seemed to be well known.

What followed was a revelation to Beth. She paraded before Dante in casual outfits and then suits, day dresses and finally evening dresses. All the time Dante lounged on the sofa, with a smile on his handsome face and a wicked gleam in his dark eyes, making personal comments on the fit and style, thoroughly enjoying himself at her expense. Beth was getting more incensed by the minute.

Finally, wearing a slim-fitting silver evening dress the assistant had virtually poured her into, which clung to her hips and bottom like a second skin, she’d had enough.

‘Now, that I like. We’ll take it,’ Dante said, sitting up straighter as she walked towards him.

She slowly turned around and heard his intake of breath at the rear view. Glancing back at him over her shoulder, she saw the stunned look on his face, and a provocative smile curved her lips.

‘Are you sure?’ she said, and, turning, she sashayed over to him and sat down on his lap. She curled an arm around his broad shoulders and lifted a finger to trace the outline of his firm lips. ‘Do you really think this is me?’ she asked throatily.

Dante was speechless. Beth approaching him with a smile and touching him was a first. Forgetting where he was, he wrapped his arms around her as she nuzzled his ear, the soft warmth of her breath making him hot.

‘Enough is enough,’ she hissed vehemently. ‘Remember the reason I am here. This dress is a waste of money—I will never get it on in a couple of weeks.’

He turned her head and covered her mouth with his in a fierce kiss.

The kiss caught Beth by surprise. All she could feel was the heat of desire, the pressure of his hand on her bare back and the hardening of his body against her buttocks. When he broke the kiss she was breathless.

‘You’re right, of course, Beth,’ Dante said and, grasping her by the waist, took her with him as he stood up, lowering her down his long body. ‘And I was also right. You are a natural-born tease.’

Beth’s provocative action was a salutary reminder to him of what she was really like. He had been in danger of forgetting in the shock of her pregnancy. ‘Go and get dressed. I’ll settle things here. Shopping is over. We are leaving.’

He let her go and walked across to the desk to settle the bill. After a few words with the assistant, he made a phone call to his driver. A few minutes later Beth reappeared. There was no denying she was incredibly lovely, with a perfect figure, he thought clinically, but so were plenty of other women who were not ex-cons. He was only marrying her because she was pregnant.

He took her arm and led her outside—and stopped.

Glancing up, Beth tracked where he was looking—at his watch—and when he lifted his eyes to hers they were hard.

‘It is only twelve-thirty. We could be home in an hour,’ he opined, ‘or if you prefer we can lunch here. I do have to be in Rome by this evening, so we will have to be quick.’

‘Your home is fine by me,’ Beth said, because deep inside she knew it was never going to be her home.

‘Good. I have had the helicopter moved to a ground- level helipad and a car is picking us up in a minute.’

In other words he had already arranged to leave, making his offer of lunch about as genuine as their marriage was going to be.

It was the longest conversation they were to have on the journey back. The car ride was short, the helicopter was standing in a field, and once on board no conversation was necessary anyway.