Since they’d arrived on the Amalfi Coast, she’d seen Cristiano only at night, in the dark, when he woke her up to set her body on fire with bliss. Then, in the morning, when she woke, he was always gone. Like some tantalizingly sweet dream.
Strange she should feel lonely when she was never alone. Even when she walked to the village with the baby, Cristiano insisted she take Salvatore with them. It bewildered her because there were no paparazzi here, and it was hard enough trying to make new friends, given her lack of Italian, without also having a hulking bodyguard standing behind her, scowling behind his sunglasses.
But the villagers were friendly and interested in meeting the wife of the man who’d brought so much new employment to the area. And baby Jack, with his bright smile and chubby cheeks, charmed everyone he met, even on the rare occasions when he cried.
Hallie was slowly learning Italian from Agata, who was very patient with her. Living in a brand-new country where she didn’t speak the language, she was trying her best to settle in, make friends, to find a dentist and doctor and grocery store, and do everything she could to make the Amalfi Coast feel like home.
Except for the wistful memory of her childhood home, Hallie didn’t miss West Virginia. She missed New York. But she tried to push that feeling away. Hadn’t she told Cristiano that their home could be anywhere? If Italy was the place he loved most, then she would be happy here. She would try to forget New York, especially since every time she tried to text or phone Tess and Lola lately, they seemed distracted. No wonder, with newborns.
But she missed their friendship.
The afternoon before the gala, Hallie played with Jack in the huge formal salon, kissing his fat baby feet as he lay stretched out on a blanket beneath a flood of afternoon sunshine. Soon, Cristiano would come home and they’d get ready to go to the gala together. As she sang yet another song about true love, she knew tonight would be magical. After tonight, their lives could truly begin.
Her voice suddenly choked off as she realized she did know happy songs after all. Love songs.
Wide-eyed, Hallie looked out the wide windows at the palm trees and blue sky. She stared down at her cooing baby, his dark eyes exactly like Cristiano’s.
And she gasped aloud, covering her mouth with her hand.
There was a reason she’d been singing only happy love songs lately.
Because she felt them.
She was in love with Cristiano.
Her husband. Her ex-boss. The man she’d once hated. The man she’d never thought she could trust.
She trusted him now. He’d become a real father, a real husband. He’d brought her home. He’d given her what she’d dreamed of most: a family.
She loved him for everything he’d done for her. For the way he’d made her feel. For the person he’d encouraged her to be. Bold. Fearless.
Was she fearless enough to tell him she loved him?
Hallie gulped.
If she did, would his handsome face light up? Would he say, “And I love you, cara mia,” then kiss her senseless?
Or would he just look at her coldly, and say nothing?
Love had never been part of the deal. Cristiano had told her outright he didn’t think he was capable of it.
Yet, he treated her as if he did love her. Marrying her. Buying her this magnificent home. Giving up his lifestyle of constantly traveling in order to remain here, in one place. Just to make her happy.
She put her hand on her forehead. What should she do? Should she remain silent and keep things safely as they were?
Or should she take the chance and risk everything in their marriage to tell him she loved him?
“It’s just arrived from Rome, signora,” said Agata, coming into the salon with a designer garment bag in her arms.
“The dress,” Hallie said, rising unsteadily to her feet. “Cristiano told me he’d called in a favor with a designer, to send me a special dress to wear tonight.”
“Sì.” The Italian woman didn’t meet her eyes, but Agata had been acting strangely all day. Taking the garment bag from her, Hallie laid it across the elegant sofa. Unzipping the bag, she discovered a breathtaking strapless red ball gown with a sweetheart bodice and full skirts. It was a dream dress. A Cinderella dress.
Hallie touched the fabric in awe.
“Maybe he does love me,” she whispered.
Agata made a strange noise.