Magnus’s arm tightened around Elia instantly, placing himself between her and the intruder. His gaze snapped toward the doorway, sharp andcold.
“What do you want?” he demanded.
The young man bowed his head slightly. “An envelope for you, Captain.”
Magnus studied him for a beat longer, making certain there was no threat. Only then did he ease Elia back onto her feet.“Leave it,” Magnussaid.
The servant placed the envelope on the small table near the door, and withdrew without anotherword.
Magnus turned back to Elia. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, struggling to make ittrue.
Satisfied she was steady on her feet, Magnus stepped out of the pool, water streaming from his body. He grabbed a towel, dried his hands briefly, then crossed to the table and picked up the envelope.
The Donati crest stared up from the wax seal.Magnus broke it open.Inside was a formal invitation.A gala hosted by the Donati family.
Elia followed him from the pool, atowel wrapped loosely around her. She peered over his shoulder. “Will yougo?” she asked.
Magnus studied the elegant script on the card.Now that he understood why they wanted her back, the invitation carried a very different meaning.“No.”
Elia’s chin lifted slightly.“You should,” she replied.
He looked at her sharply.“Why?”
“Because if they’re expecting you to hide me,” she explained, “they’ll assume they’ve already won.”
Magnus studied her in silence.There was Donati blood in her.But the courage standing in front of him belonged somewhere else entirely.
Finally he folded the invitation and dropped it to the table.“Very well,” he said. “We’ll attend the gala together.”
The Donatis had revealed more than they intended.
If they couldn’t retrieve Elia,removing her would become the simplest solution.
And Magnus would make certain no one laid a hand on her again.
Chapter 11
ELIA STOOD BEFOREthe tall mirror in the dressing room and barely recognized the woman looking back ather.
The gown alone would have been enough to make the moment unreal. Ivory silk draped from her shoulders in folds that skimmed her body before falling in a long, fluid line to the floor. The fabric drifted with the smallest movement of her body, shifting against itself in a quiet sound that reminded her of water running over polished stone.
She lifted a hand, almost cautiously, touching the neckline as though the garment might vanish if she moved too quickly. The seamstress who had delivered it earlier had assured her the fit was perfect, and she had been right. The gown seemed to have been made for her body alone, hugging the curves she had spent years trying to keep hidden.
She’d spent most of her life wearing dark dresses meant for work. Durable fabric. Practical seams. Clothing that allowed her to move through the Donati household without drawing attention.
This was nothing like that.This strapless gown demanded attention and the thought made her uneasy.
She turned slightly, watching the silk shift along her hips. Her hair had been drawn into an elegant knot at the nape of her neck, and the maid who had helped her earlier had insisted on leaving a few strands unpinned. “It softens your face,” the woman had said, smiling with a kind of easy satisfaction.
Softening her face had never been a priority in the Donati house.
Elia looked again at the woman in the mirror. For a moment she imagined someone else standing there, someone born into a different life. Someone who had grown up attending evenings like the one waiting downstairs.
Someone who belonged.
She let the thought go almost as quickly as it arrived.This was temporary.The gown.The evening.Even the life she was standing in now. Magnus had purchased her freedom from the Donatis, but she understood too well that freedom could be complicated. The world he inhabited was far more powerful than the one she had left behind. That kind of world came with expectations.She just didn’t know yet what those expectations mightbe.
