Rebecca Winters - Will You Marry Me? - A Marriage Made in Italy / The Courage To Say Yes / The Matchmaker's Happy Ending

“You’re saying...”

“Shocking, isn’t it? At twenty-four?” she blurted. “When I didn’t try to stop you, I—I can understand why you kept kissing me. You enjoyed a happy marriage and miss your wife. As for me, I have no excuse, so let’s just agree that this was a physical aberration that shouldn’t have happened, and promise we’ll never find ourselves in this situation again. Promise me, Leon. Otherwise I can’t go through with anything, even if it means never meeting my mother.” She had fire in her eyes.

“I swear I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to do. Does that make you feel any better?”

“No.”

More astounding honesty. “While you pack, I’ll go out to the lobby and take care of the bill.”

She moved away from the door. “I don’t expect you to pay for me.”

“I know. That’s why I want to,” he murmured. She didn’t have a mercenary bone in her beautiful body. Just now her mouth had almost given him a heart attack. Belle Peterson had many parts to her, all of them unexpected and thrilling. After Benedetta died, he thought he’d never desire another woman.

He left the room and paid her account through Sunday, adding a healthy bonus that brought a faint smile to Rosa’s dark eyes.

Belle appeared sooner than he would have thought, carrying her shoulder bag and suitcase. Evidently her nervous anticipation over seeing her mother had made her hurry, but he had a hunch she’d always been a punctual person. Another trait he couldn’t help but applaud.

He took the luggage from her and ushered her out to his car. For the second time in two days he was taking her home. A great deal had changed since yesterday morning, when he’d gone to bed after being up all night with Concetta.

Leon no longer questioned why his assistant’s phone call to the villa had prompted him to get dressed and go down to the bank for an explanation. It appeared there’d been a grand design at work in more ways than one. Even so, the thought raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

CHAPTER FOUR

AN HOUR AFTER getting settled in the fabulous guest bedroom she’d only glimpsed yesterday, Belle heard a tap on the door. She’d been drying her freshly washed hair with her blow-dryer, and turned it off to go answer. Dinner wouldn’t be for another hour.

“The signore sent me to find out if you need laundry service or would like something ironed for tonight,” said the maid standing there.

Belle had never had service like this in her life. Since she wanted to look perfect for her mother, she decided to take advantage of Leon’s incredible hospitality. But she couldn’t forget for a second that his life and the lives of their parents were unique in the annals of Italian history.

“Just a moment, please.”

She hurried over to her suitcase, which he’d placed on a chest at the end of the king-size bed. After opening it, she pulled out the short-sleeved, lime-colored suit with white lapels and white trim.

“This needs a little touching up to get out the wrinkles,” she explained as she handed it to the maid.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you very much.”

While Belle waited, she finished brushing her naturally curly hair and put on her pearl earrings. Fastening the matching pearl necklace presented problems because she was all thumbs. Tonight would be the culmination of her dreams. Despite Leon’s compliments, the fear that she’d be a disappointment to her mother wouldn’t leave her alone.

She was glad she’d brought her low-slung white heels. When she’d packed for her trip, she hadn’t really imagined having an opportunity to wear them.

Before long, the maid brought Belle’s suit to the bedroom. “The signore said you should join him on the patio whenever you’re ready,” she announced.

Just the thought of him sent Belle’s heart crashing to her feet. She could still feel his mouth on hers, filling her with an ecstasy she didn’t know was possible.

Trying to pull herself together, she thanked the maid again. One more glance in the ornate, floor-length mirror after fastening the buttons, and she felt ready to join her host. Would he approve?

What if he didn’t? Did it matter to her personally?

Yes, it mattered. Horribly. Those moments of intimacy at the pension had been a revelation to her. The way he’d kissed her had brought every nerve ending to life. The fact that he was her stepbrother didn’t matter once they’d crossed the line. What happened between them had shaken her so badly she could hardly function right now, but she had to!

Not wanting to keep Leon waiting, she gave one more glance to the photo she’d placed on the dresser, then left the room and started down the hall. She knew her way out to the patio, but before she reached the open French doors, a darling brown dog rushed over to greet her. As she paused to rub his head, she saw that Leon wasn’t alone.

Her eyes traveled to the dainty, dark blonde baby he held in his arms. She was wearing a pink pinafore and tiny pink sandals, the colors of which stood out against the black silk shirt he was wearing. The child cuddled to his chest couldn’t be more than six or seven months old and possessed features finer than bone china.

He was walking her around the patio. As he talked to her, he kissed her cheek and neck over and over again. The scene with the baby was so sweet it brought hot tears to Belle’s eyes. To be loved like that...

She shivered. She knew what those lips felt like on her mouth. To her shame, she hadn’t wanted him to stop. Right now she longed to feel them against her own neck.

Was the baby his child? Or could she be Dante’s? Belle didn’t know much about his family. Their coloring was so different, given Leon’s vibrant black hair, but his affection for the little girl touched Belle to the core.

He must have sensed Belle’s arrival. When he turned, their gazes fused. She felt him taking in her appearance. In that moment his eyes glowed a crystalline gray that made her legs go weak in response. It was that same smoldering look she’d glimpsed back at the pension after she’d pulled away from him.

“I can see you’ve already met Rufo. Now come and meet my daughter, Concetta.”

“Your baby?” Belle cried in wonder. That explained the love he showered on her. “Oh,” she crooned softly, “you sweet little thing.” She touched the hand clutching her daddy’s shirt.

“I’ve seen a lot of babies in my life at the orphanage, but I never saw one who had your exquisite features and skin. You’re like a porcelain doll.” She looked up at Leon. “She must have gotten those dark brown eyes from her mother.”

“Concetta inherited my wife’s looks.”

“Obviously she was a beauty.”

He pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead. “Before you judge me too harshly, I didn’t mention my daughter to you before now because we had a greater issue on our minds. I planned to introduce you after you agreed to follow through and meet Luciana.”

“You don’t have to explain. I understand. Would you think me too presumptuous to ask how your wife died?”

“No. She passed away giving birth.”

“Oh no! How awful for her—for you...” Belle’s gaze traveled back to the baby. “You lost your mommy? No little girl as sweet as you should grow up without your mother. I—I’m so sorry, darling.” Her voice broke. “At least you’ll always know who she was, because you have your daddy, who loved her so much. And you have pictures.”

Without conscious thought Belle kissed that little hand before she looked up at Leon. “What went wrong during the delivery?”

He cuddled his daughter closer. “Soon after our marriage Benedetta was diagnosed with systemic lupus.”