Kate Hewitt - The Italian's Bought Bride

‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured, ‘I don’t dance that often.’

‘Nor do I,’ Stefano murmured back, his lips close—too close—to her hair. ‘But I hear it’s like riding a bike. You never forget.’

His arms were around her waist, his fingers splayed on her lower back. ‘Do you remember how we danced? On your eighteenth birthday?’ A glimmer of a smile lurked in the mobile curve of his mouth, although his eyes were shuttered. ‘You clung to me for balance because you’d never worn heels before.’

Allegra shook her head, closed her eyes before snapping them open once more. ‘I was a child.’

Stefano frowned, his eyes flickering across her face. ‘Perhaps,’ he said at last. ‘But you aren’t one now.’

‘No,’ Allegra agreed, ‘I’m not.’

They danced in silence, swaying to the rhythm, their bodies— chests, hips, thighs—all too tantalisingly close. Allegra felt herself relaxing, even though there was a taut wire of tension running through her core, vibrating with awareness.

She’d never expected it to happen like this. And yet, she realized, she’d expected to see Stefano again. A part of her, she acknowledged now, had been waiting for their reunion since the night she’d fled.

Why? she wondered, and her heart knew the answer. To show him how strong she was, how healed and healthy and happy she was…without him.

‘What are you thinking?’ Stefano murmured, and Allegra gazed at him through half-closed lids, soothed by the music and wine.

‘How odd this is,’ she admitted in a husky murmur. ‘To be dancing with you…again.’

‘It is odd,’ Stefano agreed, his voice pitched low to match hers. ‘But not unpleasant, surely.’

‘I expected you to hate me.’ Her eyes opened, widened. Waited.

He shrugged. ‘Why should I, Allegra? It was a long time ago. You were young, afraid. You had your reasons. And, in the end, we didn’t know each other very well, did we? A handful of dinners, a few kisses. That was all.’

Allegra nodded, accepting, though her throat was tight. He’d distilled their relationship down to its rather shallow essence, and yet it had been the most profound experience of her life.

‘Do you hate me?’ Stefano asked with surprising, easy candour. Allegra looked up, startled, and saw a shadow flicker through his eyes.

‘No,’ she said, and meant it. ‘No. I’ve moved past it, Stefano.’ She smiled, tried to keep her voice light. Breezy. ‘It was a long time ago, as we’ve both agreed, and I’ve realized that you never lied to me. I just believed what I did because I wanted to.’

‘And what did you believe?’ Stefano asked softly. Allegra forced herself to meet his gaze directly.

‘That you loved me…as much as I loved you.’

The words seemed to reverberate between them and for a strange second Allegra felt like the girl she’d been seven years ago, standing before Stefano and asking, Do you love me?

He’d never answered then, and he didn’t now.

Allegra let out a breath. What had she expected? That he’d tell her he had loved her, that it had all been a mistake, a misunderstanding?

No, of course not. It hadn’t been a mistake. It had been the right thing to do. For both of them.

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