But that had to start with her, first. She had to find her armour again, she realised as she looked back to the rack of dresses.
‘You’re coming to the rehearsal dinner?’ she asked Ivy as she swept the dress on the floor aside with her foot.
‘Yes,’ Ivy replied, unfazed by the sudden direction change of their conversation.
‘Good. Where is the shop assistant?’
‘Here, Signora Gallo,’ the harried young woman replied rushing back into the changing room.
‘I’m going to need a suit.’
‘A suit?’ the woman blinked.
‘Si.A three-piece suit. In white,’ Maria replied, unaware of the fierce glint, and sudden glow that made her features come alive.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Micha refused tocheck his watch. He knew what the time was and Maria wasn’t late. Not yet anyway. But unease swirled around him, making his body feel uncomfortable, his clothes feel too tight. The foyer of the central Rome hotel glistened elegantly in soft cream lighting, perfect to highlight the rich buttery marble flooring veined in black. But tension corded his shoulder muscles and he rolled his head to ease the ache, righting it before a couple entered from the bar area and caught sight of such weakness.
There could be none. Not tonight.
The entire Gallo clan had shown up. He wasn’t surprised, but he was impressed. Whether it was their curiosity or their avarice that drove them, every single one of them wanted to see the new head of the Gallo Group and his fiancée, as if they were some spectator sport.
He hated it as much as he needed it, because he hadn’t lied to Maria. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told her that everyone would believe in the veracity of this marriage. His child would grow up with nothing less.
Which was why he was doing this properly, the rehearsal dinner. Her family. His mother. Even now, his mother was sitting among them, and he didn’t trust a single Gallo up there not to treat her the way she deserved to be treated: with respect, with honour.
He knew how they had seen him, let alone her. But not a single one of them knew what it was like to be desperate. To be so determined to put food in your child’s belly that you’d sell yourself and your soul to do it.
Micha slowly and carefully uncurled the fist his hand had formed and smoothed his palm down the waistcoat of his black suit, pulling himself together. His mother had assured him that she would be fine, and he knew she would be. Rosa Rufina was made of stronger stuff than the Gallos could even imagine.
The old-fashioned circular doorway to the hotel began to move and he knew. He knew that she had arrived. He could feel it on his skin, in the way that his breath hitched and his heart pulled. He’d thought he was over that kind of stuff, but when Maria emerged into the foyer, he knew it had been nothing but a lie.
She was glorious.
Rich waves of espresso-coloured hair tumbled around her bare shoulders. The cream waistcoat dipped low, but not salaciously so, and perfectly matched the pressed wide-leg trousers. Her lips, a shocking slash of bright crimson, were a carnal focal point to an appearance that was expensive, confident, professional, powerful. All the things that he’d always admired about her.
And if he thought about the look of vulnerability that he’d seen in the bridal shop the day before, then he pushed that out of his mind as she closed the distance between them.
The click of her cream heels counted down the seconds until she joined him and when she did, she gave him a slow perusal from head to toe. Her blank response, presumably supposed to irritate him, only amused him. He knew what he looked like—he was neither arrogant, nor egotistical. And he knew—the memory of that night in Paris coming to him in a flash—that she liked the way he looked.
‘Did anyone cancel?’ she asked.
It was the first thing out of her mouth. NotHello, how are you?She wanted to know if anyone had the audacity to snub his demand that they attend this rehearsal dinner. She was probably calculating the impact on the stock prices if anyone had the temerity to do so.
Her nod of acknowledgement was only momentarily hesitant, betraying her surprise. He frowned, thrown by the ‘tell’. She had clearly thought that a member of her family would refuse to come. Did she have someone particular in mind, or—
His chain of thought was cut off when she angled her head up to his and he fell into large brown eyes, wide and so dark as to be unfathomable. It was as if he were underwater, holding his breath—lost to this moment that he wanted to stay in—but starved for oxygen and sanity, he returned to reality, and held out his arm for her to take.
Together, they made their way up the grand red-carpeted spiral staircase to where the hotel had converted a ballroom into one of Rome’s most sought-after restaurants. But instead of being led to a table there, the maître d’ gestured for them to follow him round to the private room that Micha had secured for the rehearsal dinner.
Maria’s eyes flicked to his, probably mentally calculating the amount of money that this would set him back. Again, always underestimating him, just like every other Gallo, and he stifled the spark of irritation that sprang to life.
Beyond the closed doors, the loud sound of voices pressed up against the wood.
Micha went to raise his hand to push them open, but stopped when Maria’s fingers gripped his jacket sleeve.
‘What is it?’ he asked, as he noticed the tension in her body, the slight tightening around her lips.
