“You should buy Abby the biggest bunch of flowers, go home, and take her to bed and worship her, and then confess all.” She reached over and slapped his hand. “She’s worried sick about you.”
He jumped to his feet. “That’s the best suggestion I’ve heard all day. Whose turn was it to pay for lunch?”
“Mine.” Carla stood and hugged him. She whispered in his ear, “I’m so pleased you are okay. Don’t scare me again.”
He hugged her back tightly. It felt good to share his worries. Perhaps there was merit in the saying a trouble shared is a trouble halved. “You be careful in the wilds of the Amazon. Don’t come back with any interesting diseases. Lunch is on me when you return. Be safe, my friend.”
Driving back toward the villa,he’d never felt so content. He had so many flowers in his car that his Porsche smelled like a perfumery. He pulled up at the villa, and with flowers in hand, went in search of Abby. He knew what he needed to do.
He found her in his mother’s drawing room, helping her grandmother and his mother make new curtains for the cottage. They stopped talking when he entered, their mouths dropping open at the armful of roses he carried. He could hardly fit through the door.
“Well, there’s a man in love,” Nana Taylor said.
“Or a man with lots to atone for,” his mother said drily.
“Was there a sale at the flower shop?” Abby asked with a big grin. “He’s bought flowers for all of us.”
Dante shrugged his shoulders and took the teasing. “Actually, they may as well be for mother and Nana Taylor as you, my beautiful wife, won’t be here to enjoy them.”
Abby’s smile faltered. “Won’t be here?”
“I’m taking some time off.”
His mother gasped in a mocking display of shock. He ignored her teasing.
“We’re going on a very long overdue second honeymoon.”
His heart felt too big for his chest as Abby’s face broke into a gorgeous smile and her eyes welled with tears. His mother and Nana Taylor quickly took the flowers from him and quietly left the room. He walked purposely toward Abby, who rose to her feet. When he reached her, he couldn’t stop himself from pulling her into his arms and kissing her senseless. When he finally let her up for air, he whispered, “Where do you want to go? I’ll take you anywhere, but we stop in Paris for two nights on the way. I’ve got some business that can’t wait.”
At the mention of Paris, he felt Abby tense. “Do you not like Paris? I thought women loved the shopping capital of the world.”
With a slight hesitation, she melted into his arms once more. “I don’t care where we go as long as I’m with you.”
He swung her up into his arms and started walking to their bedroom. “I know exactly where I want to go with you right now. I want to make love to you, Abby,” he murmured. “I want to sink myself so far into you that we’re indivisible. I want to hear your cries…”
“Less talk and more walk. Hurry, please.”
In the privacy of their room, he gently placed Abby on her feet. They stood facing each other, chests rising and falling rapidly.
“For the next week I’m going to spoil you,” he said, stepping behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, drawing her against him. He lowered his head and whispered, “I’ll spoil you so much you’ll neverwant to leave me.”
“Be careful what you wish for, Dante. There’s no going back. You’ll never push me away again.”
“I’ll never want to. I’ll never let you go,” he growled.
Abby’s heartkicked with a burst of clamoring exultation. He slid his hands up and cupped her breasts, and the pleasure of his touch swelled through her. Never had she felt like this in all the previous years of her marriage.
She leaned back into the powerful cradle of his thighs, wanting to feel his need for her, wanting him to know she relished being his wife. She felt his hands fumble with the zipper of her dress in his haste to get to her. He grazed soft kisses over one bared shoulder, then his mouth became more possessive—a sensuous branding that made her quiver with anticipation.
“I can’t believe you’ve come back to me and given me a second chance,” he murmured as he slowly removed her clothes, caressing them from her body, his hands sliding, stroking, palms gently rubbing her peaked nipples, sliding downward, his fingers finding the moist heated center only his touch could excite. He turned her in his arms, his mouth trailing kisses everywhere, a hot suction that was driving her to distraction. The knowledge that he not only desired her in his bed, but wanted her in his life, was incredibly arousing.
He took her lips in a drugging kiss. She had to grip his shoulders to stop herself from collapsing as her knees grew weak. He lifted his head.
“Come, let’s make a bambino.”
The dream shattered. Dante didn’t seem to notice her sudden tension. When he finally moved her onto the bed, a mass of turbulent emotions assailed her. She loved him. Wanted him. But she might not be able to give him what he really needed. She closed her eyes and tried to push away the fear polluting her mind about would happen to this relationshipwhen she told him the truth. She had to tell him and soon, but not now. Now all she wanted was to relish this perfect moment, this perfect union and forget it was under threat.
After the honeymoon. She’d tell him after the honeymoon.
