Will You Marry Me?. Rebecca WintersЧитать онлайн книгу.
When she’d confided her reason to him for holding back, she’d told the truth. She’d wanted to give her mother space.
But she feared there’d been another reason to stay with Leon, not so readily discernible until this moment, now that she was alone with him again. Reflecting back to that interlude in her bedroom at the pension, she was angered by her need for comfort from the last person she should have turned to.
For her to have lost control and kissed a man who still had to be grieving the loss of his wife was humiliating. It was madness.
Feigning a calm she didn’t feel, she managed to dredge up a smile. “Thank you for helping me work through my angst. Concetta is the luckiest little girl in the world to have you for her father. And like your father, you’re a virtual bulwark of strength and reason, Leon Malatesta. I’ve gotten over my jitters and can go to bed now with the hope of getting some sleep. Good night.”
Without looking at him, she left the patio and went straight to the guest bedroom, shutting the door.
A good sleep? That was hilarious.
* * *
“Signorina?”
Belle came out of the bathroom the next morning, where she’d been putting on her makeup. Earlier, Carla had brought her coffee. “Yes, Simona?”
“Signor Malatesta says to come to the rear foyer. He’s ready to drive you to the palazzo whenever you’re ready.”
“I’ll be right there. Thank you.”
She’d been up for an hour, unable to stay in bed following a restless night’s sleep. After some experimenting, she drew her hair back at the nape. In her ears she’d put on her favorite pink topaz earrings. Luciana was so elegant, Belle wanted to look her best for her mother.
This morning she’d dressed in a short-sleeved, three-piece suit of dusky pink, with a paler pink shell. Whenever she wore it to the regional meetings for her work, it garnered compliments.
When she stepped outside the door, she saw Leon in a light tan suit, fastening his daughter in the back car seat of a dark blue luxury sedan. Concetta was dressed in a blue-and-yellow sunsuit. With those dark brown eyes that saw Belle coming, she was a picture.
“Good morning, you adorable thing!”
He stood up, transferring his gaze to Belle. “Buon giorno, Arabella,” he murmured, while his eyes traveled over every inch of her. When he did that, she melted on the spot.
“Buon giorno,” she responded, sounding too American for words. “Do you mind if I sit in back with her?” During the night Belle had decided that the only safe way to be around Leon was to stay close to his daughter. It was no penance. Belle was already crazy about her.
Without waiting for an answer, she walked around to the other side and climbed in back. Rufo had already made his place on the floor at the baby’s feet. Belle rubbed his head behind his ears. He licked her hand before she turned to Concetta and fastened her own seat belt.
“How’s my little sweetie? I love those cute seashells on your top.” As she touched them, the baby smiled and reached out to pull her hair.
Leon was still looking in from the other side. Could there be such a striking man anywhere else in existence? “Like I said last night, you keep that up at your own risk.”
“After the pearls, what’s a little hair?” she teased.
He chuckled. “She’s already got her sights set on your earrings. They’re stunning on you, by the way.”
“Thank you.” Please don’t keep saying personal things like that to me.
In seconds he got behind the wheel and drove them away from the estate toward the city. This was the first time since coming to Rimini that Belle was actually able to see it through a tourist’s eyes. Until now her thoughts had been so focused on finding her mother, she’d been pretty much unobservant.
He drove her along the autostrada and played tour guide. On one side were hundreds of fabulous-looking hotels. On the other were hundreds and hundreds of colorful umbrellas set up three rows deep on the famous twelve-mile-long stretch of beach.
“It’s a sun lover’s paradise, Leon!”
“If you don’t mind the invasion of masses of humanity,” he drawled over his shoulder.
But he didn’t have to worry about that. His private portion of beach was off-limits, and no doubt strictly watched by his security men.
After a few minutes they climbed a slight elevation where an incredible period residence in an orangey-pink color came into view. “Oh, Leon...”
“This is the Malatesta palazzo. Our family purchased it in the nineteenth century. It’s of moderate size, but over the years has been restored and transformed. Like many of the elegant patrician villas along this section of the Adriatic, it combines modern technology with old-world charm.” He drove through the gates, past cypress trees and a fantastic maze.
“It’s breathtaking. When you were little, your friends must have thought they’d died and gone to heaven when you invited them over to play.”
His eyes gleamed with amusement as he looked at her through the rearview mirror. “I don’t know about that, but Dante and I enjoyed hiding out from the staff. Guests have been known to get lost in there.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
They continued on and wound around the fountain to the front entrance. Thrilled to see her mother come out the door and rush over to her side of the car, Belle hurriedly got out to meet her. They hugged for a long time.
“Now I know last night wasn’t a dream.” Luciana cupped her face. “My dearest girl, do you think you could ever bring yourself to call me Mom? You don’t have to, but—”
“I wanted to call you Mom last night,” Belle confessed.
“Then it’s settled. Come on. Let’s get Concetta and go inside.” Belle looked around, to discover Leon had his daughter in his arms. “We’re eating on the terrace,” her mother announced. “I’ve got Concetta’s high chair set up.”
Rufo ran ahead to where Sullisto stood in the elegant foyer. He sought out Belle with such a warm smile that she had to believe it was a sincere reflection of how he felt about her. It went a long way to dispel some of her fears for her intrusion in their lives.
She felt Leon’s gaze. When she looked up, his gray eyes seemed to encourage her to embrace what was happening.
Once she was inside, the palazzo’s sumptuous tapestries and marble floors left her speechless. Belle particularly loved the colonnade with its stained-glass windows. Leon explained that before the destruction in the war, they’d formed part of the chapel.
After following the passageway, they came out to the terrace, where a veritable feast awaited them. But Belle couldn’t hold back her cry of wonder at the sunken garden below. Grass surrounded a giant black-and-white chessboard. Statues of Roman gods were placed in the odd squares, each depicting one of the twelve months of the year.
“I’ve never seen anything like it! The whole estate is unreal.” Her gaze unconsciously flew to Leon’s. “To think this was your playground, growing up.”
His eyes smiled back at her.
“Come and sit by me, darling. Here are some pictures of your father.”
Belle did her mother’s bidding. Her hands shook as she studied the half-dozen snapshots. “He looks so young and handsome!” She couldn’t believe she was gazing at her own father.
“He was both. Keep those photos. I have more.”
After studying them, Belle put them carefully in her purse. Over the delicious meal, she lost track of time, answering her mother’s questions about life at the orphanage. Then the subject turned to the Petersons.