Hired:The Italian's Bride

When Mari returned, he let his gaze fall on her as she and Gina spoke of the internal workings of the hotel business.

Mari was different. He couldn’t explain it, but somehow all the jaded thoughts from the past faded away when she was near. There could never be anything permanent between them, but the brittle sense of skepticism he usually carried dissolved when she was around. He’d seen her eyes light up as she spoke to Gina, laughing easily in a way he hadn’t seen before.

It was mesmerizing. This was Mari, unguarded. He’d wondered if she could ever be this way. Now he wondered if she could ever be this way with him.

“Luca, you must dance with me.”

Gina issued the command and Luca sighed. “Gina.”

“You know you want to. Besides, who else am I going to dance with? I don’t see you for months on end. And this really is a quick trip.”

Mari looked at Luca and a reluctant smile crawled up her cheek at his mulish expression.

She’d smiled more today than she could recall smiling in a long time. Seeing Luca being bossed around by his little sister was enjoyable. She’d gotten so used to him giving orders that she was delighted he knew how to indulge his sister.

“Ah, the family guilt,” Mari teased him. “The same no matter what nationality you are.”

“Oh, we Italians are particularly well-versed in it,” Gina replied jauntily. “Let’s go, Luca.”

Mari watched, wishing she had the natural ease and grace that the Fioris seemed to possess. She’d insisted that Luca dance with Gina, and it was fun watching them. He took a wide step and spun his sister around, and the sound of her tinkling laughter reached Mari’s ears. This was a man she could warm to. Like she had during their picnic, dinner with Gina seemed to have released the tension he’d been holding in. It made him even more attractive. She wet her lips. Not in a million years, would she have expected to be feeling a physical attraction to a man. Especially not now, when she knew Robert was out there, and free.

She knew her mother must know that he was out on parole, and for the first time, she wondered what Anne was doing, where she was. After the trial Mariella had walked away, not looking back. She couldn’t. But through the years and silence between them, there was no denying that her mum had had to deal with the same thing. Perhaps even more than Mariella, she must be feeling like it wasn’t ever truly over. For the first time in a long time, she felt sorry for her mother.

Breathless, Gina and Luca returned to the table. Gina sat but Luca looked down at Mari. She forced a smile, but she knew it was too late. He’d seen her melancholy. His eyes softened with concern and he held out his hand. “Mari? Dance?”

Mari stared at his extended palm. Could she? The scene was eerily close to her musings just before she’d dozed off in the limo. But now, faced with the reality, her stomach twisted in knots at the thought of being held so closely in his arms. She wanted to dance, she discovered. But she didn’t trust herself to handle it. Not when the mere thought of Robert caused the trembling to start. The last thing she wanted to do was have the proximity of his body trigger her panic. For once, she was unsure of her own reaction and she hesitated.

“Go on, Mari, dance. Luca’s actually a very good dancer.” Gina narrowed her eyes at her brother. “But if you repeat that, I’ll deny it.”

Mari let out a breath and carefully put her hand in Luca’s as she rose from her chair. Immediately she felt the warmth of his hand radiate up her arm. “I suppose I could dance, once.”

He led her to the dim floor. Her heels echoed on the parquet and he turned, pulling her gently into his arms. She felt like she was in a dream. Gone was the Luca of before, the man of casual flair, of style and flirtation. In his place was a gentleman. He seemed to know how she felt about touching and kept a polite distance between them. Knowing he did it out of respect for her drew her to him in ways that his innate charm never could. Even so, one hand was warm at her waist, and he cupped her right hand within his, a perfect fit.

He was dashing tonight, dressed in a dark suit, his tie precisely knotted, his hair slicked back, reminiscent of the golden age days he so wanted the hotel to represent. The song was slow and jazzy, the singer’s voice smooth and rich like melted caramel. Luca’s arm cradled her waist as he lifted their joined hands close to his shoulder. “Relax,” he whispered, and their feet started to move to the music.

Unlike when he danced with Gina, now Luca didn’t say a word. Mari swallowed, closing her eyes and letting the music in, guiding her feet around the intimate floor. Their steps grew lazy and Mari drew his scent in, that expensive, man-scent that she knew she’d always recognize as his. Their bodies were closer now than before, and the trembling in her body wasn’t fear. Perhaps it was, she thought, but not fear of her safety.