Until this moment. Surrounded by the people Sabato belonged to, in the palace like Villa he’d called home in his childhood, she was vibrantly aware of how little she could ever offer him. Their compatibility was physical, and there would never be anything beyond it.
And yet there was a baby to consider.
Her legs were weakened by anxiety. What would it be like to see him again? Would he feel the same intense need to touch her? To speak with her? To fix her life? Or would he regret all of the meddling he’d done that he brought her closer into his life.
Emily shook her head tiredly. These thoughts had been her constant companion; soon, she would have her answer.
Despite the nearness to winter, the air was mild. Heaters dotted around the terrace added to the general warmth of the environment.
A waiter waved a tray of champagnes in her direction and she took one, simply for something to hold. Of course, she couldn’t drink any. There was the tiny husk of a baby growing inside of her, and she needed to nurture it.
She’d done so many tests she’d lost count though. Each and every one had shown the same blue lines.
And now? It was time to face the music. The certainty that she was about to see Sabato and tell him this life changing news had unsettled her. Her pulse was pounding so fast and loud through her body that she could hear it in in her ears. She scanned the crowd, her fingers fidgeting around the stem of the champagne flute.
The man she’d met in the hotel suite caught her eye first. He saw her at the exact same moment, and shot her a quizzical look. It quickly turned into a broad smile, as he began to weave his way through the crowd. “So, bella Emilia, we meet again.”
He gripped her elbows and kissed her on both cheeks, then moved to stand beside her. “I see my brother has yet again beaten me to the punch.”
She arched a brow and turned to face him. She had taken care with her appearance, but she still felt very average in the group of glamorous guests. In reality, she was anything but. She’d braided her red hair around her head, like a crown, and it showed off the swan-like elegance of her neck. Her dress was both modest and desperately alluring, drawing attention to her neat curves, and her face was a study in youthful beauty.
Rafaelo lifted his champagne flute to hers in a silent salute. She chipped hers against it, then returned it to cradle in her palms. “Uh uh,” he tutted. “It is bad luck not to drink after you’ve said cheers.”
“Is it?” She stalled, her heart racing. “I haven’t heard that.”
“Try again?” He invited, lifting his glass.
The arrival of Sabato saved her in more ways than one. “Emily,” he greeted quietly. At the sound of his voice, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She turned, slowly, bracing herself for the sight of him.
And it still caused a shiver to dance down her spine. She sucked in a shaking breath, as the full impact of his nearness assaulted her with all the strength of a physical force. From the tip of his raven dark head, to his perfect, shaved face, to the warrior’s body contained in a crisp tuxedo, he was heaven in human form.
“Sabato,” she responded, her voice a breathy husk. If she was devouring him, then he was performing the same desperate scrutiny of her. His dark eyes were black chips as they drifted the length of her body with slow purpose. The look simmered against her skin; it was a promise of what he wanted, and what he knew she needed.
“How are you?” The simple question flicked goose bumps over her skin.
Her smile was tentative. “Good. I’m well. And you?” Oh, such polite small talk! It was a ritual that had to be endured, but what she wanted was to be alone with him. To speak openly and honestly, to walk into his arms and put her head on his chest, so that he could hold her tight and tell her everything was going to be okay.
The party swirled around them, a tangle of noise and laughter, and all Emily could see was Sabato. Powerful, dynamic, darkly intense Sabato. “Maria, this is Emily. She works for Sabato in London,” Rafaelo drew the other woman into the conversation, and Emily turned to her, seeing her for the first time. She smiled, and then noticed the way Maria’s hand was tucked into the crook of Sabato’s arm. Her bright red nails were possessively splayed against the black fabric of his suit.
“Oh?” Maria’s smile was stunning on her perfectly made up face. “Fancy that.”
The other woman’s curiosity was obvious. Rafaelo turned to Emily. “Maria grew up with us.”
“Like a sister?” Emily murmured hopefully.
“Hardly!” Maria laughed, her nails stroking Sabato’s arm. “Wouldn’t that be odd?” She beamed her enormous eyes at Sabato. He straightened his arm, dropping her hand from the nook.
“May I speak with you privately?” He addressed Emily, putting an arm around her waist before she could respond. He steered her away from his brother and old friend, and towards a private corner of the party.
“It feels like the first night we met,” she remarked quietly, when they were finally alone.
He wanted, more than anything, to kiss her. His eyes roamed her face, landing on her pouted lips. Emily’s breath caught in her throat. Her body pressed forward, seeking his.
“You are … stunning,” he remarked, unable to resist putting his hands on her hips.
She exhaled slowly. “So are you.”
His laugh was raw. “I’ve missed you.”