“I was thinking Agata and the baby could get to know each other this afternoon,” Cristiano said. “If it goes well, I’ll take you out to dinner tonight. Just the two of us.”
Hallie opened her mouth to argue. Then she heard Agata crooning some Italian song as she snuggled Jack in her plump arms, to the baby’s delight. She looked at them. Jack seemed happy and content.
“I’ll think about it,” she said grudgingly.
“Va bene.” Cristiano kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I will be back in a few hours to spend time with Jack, then you and I will have dinner. As per your rules. Speaking of which—” he angled his head “—I’ve been thinking about making some new rules of my own.”
She frowned. “What rules?”
His smile transformed into a grin. “Wait and
see.”
Hallie watched the Italian grandmother carefully that afternoon, telling herself she’d send Agata away the instant Jack seemed unhappy. But the baby seemed to love her, and Agata was easy to have in the penthouse, kindly and unobtrusive. It was almost, Hallie realized, like having...no, not her mother, but some kindly great-aunt come to watch the baby. Maybe it was the fact that Cristiano—who didn’t trust anyone—seemed to trust her, for it made Hallie trust her, too.
Later that evening, with the baby safely fed and sleeping in his crib, she left capable Agata in charge and went out on a dinner date with her husband for the first time.
Hallie dressed carefully in a new, sexy black dress with a bare back that he’d bought her. Trying to match the drama of the dress, she pulled her long, dark hair into a high ponytail that hung down over her naked back. Going to the internet for makeup tips, she lined her eyes with black kohl and mascara to make them smoky and dramatic, then put on scarlet lipstick.
As she came out of the bedroom, she was nervous that Cristiano wouldn’t like her new look.
But, when he saw her, his jaw dropped.
“You make me want to stay home,” he growled, coming closer. In his own well-cut black button-down shirt and trousers, his dark hair rumpled and sexy, he looked amazing to her, as always.
“Please, take me out,” she whispered.
“As you wish.” Catching her hand in his own, he lifted it to his lips. His breath against her skin made her shiver all over. “I’ll take you out.” He gave her a sensual smile. “Then I’ll take you in.”
He never let go of her hand as they descended the elevator into the lobby. Past the crowds, she saw a bright red Ferrari waiting for them in front of the hotel.
“What about Salvatore?” she asked, looking at the two-seater car.
“I want to be alone with you tonight,” he said, opening her door.
As Cristiano drove her through the streets in the fast sports car, she looked out her window at the sensuality of Rome at night. So mysterious and dangerous, the city seemed to whisper two words: sex and death. She felt his hot gaze on her. Then he punched down hard on the gas, racing over the hills of the city.
Eventually he parked in front of a nineteenth-century brick building tucked back on a quiet street. There was no sign it was a restaurant except for two valets standing mysteriously in front.
“What’s this?” she asked as he helped her out of the car.
Cristiano smiled. “It’s by invitation only.”
Once inside, a maître d’ escorted them through the building and out into a lush garden courtyard. Scattered at ten small tables, she saw people she recognized—famous performers, politicians and athletes. Her eyes widened as they walked past someone that Hallie knew had millions of social-media followers.
“What is this place?” Hallie whispered to Cristiano. His hand tightened on her arm as other patrons turned to look at them with similar interest.
“A Michelin-starred chef runs the restaurant as a hobby. He invites only friends, or friends of friends.”
She looked at the ruined walls on the other side of the courtyard. They looked ancient. “How old are those?”
Cristiano glanced casually at the ruins. “Fifth century, I’d imagine.”
They were escorted to the best table, beside an old stone fountain. She looked up. The only ceiling was the dark velvet of the Italian sky, twinkling with stars. Fairy lights were strewn against the rough, ruined walls, illuminating red flowers and greenery proliferating amid the cracks.
“Incredible,” she breathed.
Cristiano reached for her hand over the table. His gaze was hungry. “You’re incredible.”