‘A charity gala?’
‘Yes, on Saturday. Why don’t you come with me?’
Pleasure and uncertainty warred in her lovely, expressive features. ‘You want me to...?’
‘Yes.’
‘All right.’ She smiled shyly, the sparkle returning to her eyes. ‘Is it formal, though? Because then I really don’t have anything to wear.’
‘Sounds like you need a shopping trip in Milan, then,’ Antonio answered lightly. ‘How about tomorrow?’
‘But Ella...’
‘I’ll come as well. I can hold her while you try on gowns.’
‘All right.’ A smile bloomed on Maisie’s face and in his heart. He found he was already looking forward to tomorrow. To a whole lot of tomorrows.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MAISIE GAZED AT her reflection in the mirror, amazed at her appearance. She felt utterly transformed, not just by the evening gown she’d picked out yesterday at a boutique that had been more luxurious than any shop she’d ever imagined, but also by her new hair and make-up.
Antonio had arranged for a stylist to come to the house and Maisie had been both flattered and worried that he thought she needed the help of a professional to pass muster at an event like this one.
And maybe she did, because the truth was, Maisie felt out of her league. Going to La Scala had already been a step up, but this, a party full of socialites and businessmen, a place where she’d have to impress, felt like entering another stratosphere. It was hard to breathe.
The truth was, Antonio was out of her league, something that felt all too apparent now. It wasn’t so obvious when she was eating her body weight in spaghetti while they chatted at the dinner table, or when Antonio was tickling Ella’s feet or giving her a bottle. Safely cocooned in the haven that her villa had become, she felt Antonio’s equal, if not necessarily his partner. And as excited as she was to attend an elegant party on Antonio’s arm, she was also terrified. The last time she’d been at a party she’d been pouring the champagne. What if she messed up? What if she was laughed at? What if she made Antonio regret bringing her not just to the party, but to Italy as well?
‘Maisie?’ His voice, low and melodious, rippled over her senses. Maisie straightened her shoulders, giving her reflection one last glance. She looked good, better than she ever had before. She could take confidence in that, at least, even if she was nervous and uncertain about everything else...including Antonio himself.
Yesterday, shopping with him had been so much fun, trying on and twirling around in various evening gowns, while he had held Ella and rated them from one to ten, nearly all of them coming in at ten or nine and a half. Maisie hadn’t missed the heat flaring in his eyes when he’d looked at her, and a thrill had run through her every time.
He hadn’t touched her since the night of the anniversary of his brother’s death, even though Maisie had been hoping for a goodnight kiss after the opera. No, Antonio was keeping his distance that way, even if he was spending more time with her. He was still blowing hot and cold, and Maisie didn’t know what to do about it. How patient to be. How much to hope for. And where her self-respect fitted into all this, because she knew, in her heart, she was waiting for Antonio to make up his mind. And that wasn’t that great a feeling.
‘Maisie,’ Antonio said again, and now there was a note of affectionate exasperation in his voice that made Maisie smile. She unlocked the door to the bedroom, and did a little, nervous twirl.
‘You look magnificent,’ Antonio said, and Maisie thrilled to the husky note in his voice.
‘Has the babysitter arrived?’ she asked, mainly because she didn’t know how to respond to him when he was looking at her with such blatant male appreciation. And she knew she was looking at him with similar appreciation, for he looked devastatingly attractive in his midnight-black tuxedo, the crisp white shirt contrasting with his bronzed skin and dark hair, his eyes looking bluer and more piercing than ever.
‘Yes, the babysitter’s here,’ he said. ‘She’s waiting in the living area.’ He took her hand and drew her to him. ‘There’s no need to worry. Ella was fine the other night, and she’ll be fine tonight, as well. We can enjoy ourselves.’
Which made it sound like a date. Antonio was certainly looking at her as if it was a date. After the happiness of the last few days, Maisie was too afraid to ask if it was. Maybe it was wrong or at least pathetic to take what few crumbs Antonio tossed her way, but she felt like Cinderella tonight and she wanted Antonio to be her prince...for a night. That was all she’d let herself dream of.
‘I have something for you,’ Antonio said, and Maisie blinked in surprise as he withdrew a slim box of black velvet from the inside pocket of his jacket. He presented it to her, snapping the box open with a flourish, and Maisie sucked in a breath of shocked delight at the emerald and diamond choker nestled in satin.
‘Antonio, it’s too much...’
‘It’s perfect for your dress,’ he replied, dismissing her half-hearted protest. She’d never seen such a beautiful piece of jewellery, never mind worn one. ‘Let me,’ Antonio murmured, and obediently Maisie turned around so he could clasp the choker around her neck.
His fingers brushed the tender skin of her nape and shivers rippled outward as she drew a sharp breath in, trying to curb the heady desire that rushed through her at the simple touch. The last few days had been a torture of unsated desire, remembering their night together and longing for another one.
If she were braver, she would have taken matters into her own hands, turned around to face him—and to kiss him. But she wasn’t that brave. She still didn’t know how he felt, not truly. Although they’d spent more time together, Antonio was still changeable, still occasionally remote. And, Maisie had realised, she’d done the heavy lifting in relationships so much in her life. For once she wanted Antonio to show her how he felt. How important she was to him. But perhaps he never would, because she wasn’t. She still didn’t know.
The clasp done, Antonio rested his hands on her bare shoulders, his palms warm and sure against her skin as his breath fanned the back of her neck. Maisie closed her eyes, nearly swaying with need for him. Hope and desire tangled together as memories raced through her mind of their night together, the tenderness Antonio had shown, the honesty he’d given her with both his body and his words. Would he—could he—give it again?
Neither of them spoke, the only sound their mingled breath. Then Antonio pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, and Maisie trembled. It was so little, and yet so much.
‘We should go,’ he murmured, and she tried to make her legs less jelly-like as she turned around to face him. His eyes were opaque, his expression inscrutable, but he gave her the tiniest quirk of a smile as he took her hand and led her from the room.