As I expect, the Moretti soldier stations himself just outside the door.
Still pretending to be a gentleman, Moretti pulls out my chair and makes sure I’m settled comfortably before taking his own seat.
He’s close enough that our knees nearly touch beneath the cloth.
“Champagne,” he tells the sommelier without looking at the list.“The ‘98 Krug.We’re celebrating.”His voice is smooth, assured, the same tone he’d used ordering the Sicilian Velvet that changed the course of my life.
The sommelier nods.“Excellent choice, Mr.Moretti.”
“I’ll be having a Pellegrino,” I tell the woman without taking my gaze off the man who wants to run my life.
A grin teases his lips, and he angles his head to one side.
Did I just win?
A few moments later, the owner of the restaurant appears, beaming.Moretti rises briefly to shake his hand.
Obviously the two are friends.
I notice the way the ring on his right hand catches the light.Then I look at Moretti’s hand.He’s wearing the same one.
I’d assumed Moretti’s bore the family seal, the way my father’s does.
But this is an owl, framed by laurel leaves.Twin emeralds wink from the bird’s face.
I narrow my gaze, hoping for a closer look, but I don’t get one.
“Congratulations, Dante.And this must be the future Mrs.Moretti.”The owner’s gaze lands on me with genuine pleasure.“Our best wishes for a lifetime of happiness.”
Even though I force a polite curve to my lips, I can’t make myself acknowledge the words.There will be no happiness in my lifetime.
When we’re alone again—save for the closed door and the guard beyond it—my future husband leans back, studying me with that unhurried intensity that makes my skin prickle.
Before too long, the sommelier returns, and Moretti approves the champagne.
Even though I’d asked for mineral water, my future husband nods toward my waiting glass.It’s filled quietly, and then his is topped off.
Once my Pellegrino is also in a glass with a slice of lime on the rim, the sommelier withdraws.
Our waiter tells us the day’s specials, and I once again ignore Moretti’s suggestion and instead select the blackened Gulf snapper with fresh veggies.
“You need something more substantial.”
“I’m very much aware of whatIneed.”After what happened after his kiss at the bridal shop, I am more aware than ever of my need to keep my defenses up around him.
He may think he controls my life.And to a point, maybe he does.But I will not allow him to make all my decisions.
Unlike me, he opts for a steak.But he does go for steamed broccoli as a side.
Then all too soon, it’s once again just us in the small room.
He swirls his flute once, the golden liquid catching the light, then sets it down and leans back in his chair, as if he’s royalty.“Tell me about you, Valentina.”
Scowling, I squeeze a slice of lime into my drink.
This isn’t the direction I expected the conversation to go, and I’m not sure I like it.I don’t want to reveal anything about myself to him.There’s no doubt he’ll use any information as ammunition against me.
But he’s persistent.
