His Pregnant Royal Bride Page 13

  Her work was her love. Her reason for living.

  And it was the only thing that remained true in her life.

  * * *

  They’d been back in Venice for a few weeks and Dante had been trying to catch up on all the work that had piled up. He knew that Shay had been as well, though most of the paperwork she did from the villa. Ever since they’d left the vineyard she’d been unusually quiet. He knew the easy workload was getting to her and now she was over halfway through her pregnancy.

  He thought maybe it had to do with the accident and he thought it would cheer her up to learn that Beatrice’s baby had survived and that she wouldn’t be paralyzed. There was temporary paralysis, but it would abate and Beatrice would be able to walk again.

  All she had said was “That’s good.”

  Then he thought perhaps she was worried about Guillermo. She’d taken such a shine to him. When he gave her a status update on Zia and Zio, how Zio had had a mild heart attack but would recover quickly, she gave the same answer and returned to her paperwork.

  He shook his head and flicked through the stack of mail his maid had left on the kitchen counter of the villa. Mail he had been ignoring because he’d been so busy.

  A heavy cream envelope stood out from the rest and he opened it, groaning as soon as he saw the word masquerade. It was an invitation to the hospital’s annual charity masquerade ball, which would raise money for funding. It was always a huge success. Everyone dressed up in their finest and hid behind Venetian masks.

  It was a fancy dress gala along the lines of Venice’s most infamous carnival, which was usually held in the winter months. He hated going to these affairs. Anybody who was anybody attended this event. Even heads of state, and as he was technically a head of state he had to attend. Plus he was Head of Trauma and collaborating with the United World Wide Health Association.

  It was pretty much mandatory that he be there.

  “What’s that?” Shay asked as she came into the kitchen carrying an empty bowl.

  “An invitation to a gala fund-raiser for the hospital.”

  “Ooh,” Shay said, sounding intrigued and showing more interest than she had in the last weeks, which made him happy. “It sounds fun.”

  “It’s not, but it’s for a good cause.” He stared at the envelope.

  “Well, aren’t you going to open it?”

  “Should I?” he teased.

  “Yes.”

  He broke open the seal and read it over. “Hmm...”

  “Well, when is it?” she asked.

  “It’s tonight.”

  “Too late to RSVP?” She sounded disappointed.

  “Do you want to go?”

  “Not really, but you should.”

  “I don’t want to go.” He leaned across the counter. “Why, do you want me out of the house?”

  “I don’t...” She sighed. “I feel like I’m holding you back. You’ve been hovering over me like a ticking time bomb since Tuscany. I’m fine and I want you to have fun.”

  “Trust me, this gala isn’t fun.”

  “Well, if you have to RSVP, then you don’t have to go. You could just ignore it.”

  “No, it’s more of a reminder. I go every year.” Dante cursed under his breath. “I was hoping to catch up on some paperwork for the simulation program this evening.”

  “I can do that, you go.” She turned her back to him, washing her dish in the sink.

  “You’re going to do my paperwork?”

  “Sure,” she said brightly. “Then you can get out instead of watching a pregnant woman sleep.”

  “You think you’re getting off that easy?” he said as he grinned from ear to ear. “You’re coming with me.”

  The bowl clattered in the sink and she spun around. “I’m what?”

  “You’re my wife.” He grinned, enjoying the look of distress on her face. “And you’re coming with me.”

  “Uh, no, I’m not.”

  “Of course you are. You are a princess. It’s your duty.” He grinned.

  “Duty?” she asked, her voice rising an octave.

  “Sì, you’re coming with me.” He pinned the invitation to the corkboard in the kitchen. “You seemed so excited before.”

  “That’s when I thought you were going. I can’t go.” She ripped the invitation down from the corkboard and handed it back to him.

  “Why not?”

  “Dante, I don’t have anything to wear, for starters.” Then she pointed to her belly. “I don’t think they make ball gowns for pregnant women.”

  “Of course they do. There have been pregnant women who have gone to balls before. You’re coming.” He slapped down the invite and walked out of the kitchen, grinning to himself because he knew full well that she was following him out of the room.

  “Dante, I don’t go to fancy galas.” Her voice was panicked. “I’ve never been to one.”

  “Now’s your chance.” He was really enjoying this.

  “You’re teasing me.”

  “Well, I am a bit, but I would like you to accompany me.”

  “I don’t want to go. I should be resting.” She jutted out her chin, her pink lips pursed together in defiance.

  He laughed out loud. “That’s the first time you’ve used that as an excuse here.”

  “Well, a gala is... It sounds terrible. I’m not one for crowds. Can’t you go by yourself?”

  “You are my wife.”

  She crossed her arms. “I don’t even know where to get a dress from. I would call Aubrey, but she’s working today. How am I going to find a dress?”

  “The Lido has many shops around here. You can go and find a ball gown in one of them. I’m certain.”

  Her mouth opened and closed a few times, as if she was going to say something, but instead she left the room, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll wear what I have, but I’m not going shopping.”

  “The gala starts at eight. I’ll be home at five to get ready, so hopefully you’re ready then.”

  Dante picked up his keys and his briefcase. He was going to have his assistant pick out a dress for Shay and make sure it was delivered in time. She was his wife and he wanted her to feel good. She was beautiful, sexy, and he wanted the world to know it.

  When he walked into the Palazzo Flangini tonight with Shay on his arm, he was confirming to the world, and to his father, that he was married. That he had it all.

  That he was going to have an heir and his father’s chances for getting a hold of his vineyard and the villa were gone. Dante had no doubt that his father would be there tonight with one of his mistresses and he hoped his father heeded his advice from his mother’s funeral about not approaching him.

  Dante had no interest in mending broken fences with that man. A father in name only. Dante would be a better father than his ever was. A better husband too, for as long as Shay would have him.

  Tonight he wasn’t just wearing a Venetian mask, he was wearing a different mask. One of a loving husband and father. He had to show the world that Dante Affini was happily married. And maybe then people would leave him alone.

  His marriage had put an end to all that talk about the trust fund and his father’s cheating. It was bad enough his mother had suffered through all those stories in the paper about his father stepping out with different women.

  All Dante wanted, all he’d ever wanted, was a quiet life.

  Was that too much to ask for?

  * * *

  The box containing the most beautiful black lace ball gown arrived at lunchtime with a note from Dante that asked her to take the ferry into Venice and then catch a vaporetto to the Palazzo Flangini on the Grand Canal. He also sent a Venetian mask on a handle; white, painted with black and silver filigrees.

 
It reminded her of Mardi Gras in New Orleans.

  The only difference was that usually involved beads and bright colors such as purple and green.

  This was more elegant, more sophisticated, and she was terrified. She doubted anyone would be flashing their boobs for beads tonight. She’d never done that, just as she’d never been to a gala before. She hadn’t even gone to her own high-school prom. She was so worried about making a bad impression and embarrassing Dante. So she really wished that she weren’t going. She was clumsy and awkward, even more so being pregnant.

  However, the dress was stunning. As were the matching shoes, which were thankfully small kitten heels, and jewelry. He’d thought of everything. Except that he wouldn’t be escorting her. She had to make her own way to the gala.

  Dante had apologized in the note, explaining that he had to work late on a trauma case that had come in, but he promised to meet her there.

  “How will I even know who he is if everyone is wearing masks?” she mumbled, looking up from the note while sitting cross-legged on his bed, and Dante’s cleaning lady overheard her.

  “He’ll be wearing a matching mask. That’s how it’s done. His will be more masculine, though.” Maria, the cleaning lady, patted her shoulder.

  “Thanks, Maria.”

  Maria nodded and continued her cleaning of the en suite bathroom.

  Shay stared at the gown again.

  She really didn’t want to go, but she didn’t want to let Dante down either. And it could be good to mix and mingle with those who might donate to the United World Wide Health Association. Dante wanted this marriage of convenience. He was giving up a lot to be part of his child’s life. So the least she could do was play the part.

  Ever since they’d got back from Tuscany she had been a little standoffish with him because she’d thought it was for the best, but she’d been so lonely. Especially since she was on modified duties and everyone else she knew was busy with their own jobs.

  She hated this feeling of helplessness she’d been experiencing lately.

  She missed her work. She hated being on light duty.

  She missed being in the emergency room, triaging, teaching. She missed being a nurse.

  Pretending to be a wife tonight was something not very high on her list of priorities, but maybe tonight she could make connections. Tell more people about the good work that the United World Wide Health Association did.

  At least that way she was doing something. She glanced at the clock. She had three hours to get ready and head over to the Palazzo Flangini.

  Once Maria was done with the bathroom, Shay took over and had a shower. Her hair was a short stacked bob, so she added some curls with her curling iron, pulled on the beautiful lace dress and did her makeup. By the time she was ready, it was time to catch the ferry from the pier to Venice.

  Maria walked out with her, locking up, so Shay wouldn’t have to worry about wrecking her dress trying to latch an ancient iron gate.

  As she walked down the main road on the Lido to the pier there were a few curious onlookers. Especially since she was carrying a Venetian mask, but she tuned them out as she boarded the ferry, just before it left. Once she disembarked at the Venice pier, she found the water taxi that could take her down the Grand Canal to the famous Palazzo Flangini, where they held the Venice Carnivale every February.

  It was getting dark and the canal was lit up. There were many water taxis vying for the water entrance to the palace. Once she was at the entrance, she was helped up out of the water taxi and showed the doorman Dante’s invitation. She followed the crowds inside, holding the mask up to her face as they walked into the main room, where the gala was being held. Except it wasn’t one big room, but different rooms. The walls were covered with Renaissance artwork, the ceilings were gilt and there were lots of marble columns.

  People in the party filtered around from room to room, chatting, and Shay didn’t know how she was going to find Dante in this mess of people.

  She kept to the outside of the flow of people wandering around the palazzo. Until a tall man in a designer tuxedo, holding a more masculine mask with the same markings, approached her. He moved through the crowd easily. They parted for him as the Red Sea parted for Moses. His presence seemed to command it so.

  “Ciao, cara.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. She recognized his voice and he moved the mask off his face to bring her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles, which made her stomach flutter.

  This is just a show. It’s all just a show.

  Only it was fooling her, this show she kept reiterating she was acting through. Her heart fluttered and the baby kicked in response to her accelerated pulse rate.

  She moved aside the mask. “You look very handsome.”

  He grinned. “You are absolutely stunning.”

  Warmth flooded her cheeks and she covered her face again. The mask was coming in handy for that.

  “You’re too kind.”

  “I’m not being kind. It’s the truth.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “You’re glowing, cara, and I find it absolutely sexy.”

  A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine as he took her arm and led her away from the safety of the wall out into the mix.

  “Thank you for the dress,” she said. “It’s wonderful. I don’t feel like a beached whale in this.”

  “Since when have you looked like a beached whale?” he asked.

  “Since this bump is getting bigger,” she teased.

  He chuckled. “You’re beautiful. Radiant.”

  She blushed again. They moved through the social circles. Shay shook hands with a lot of people whom she couldn’t speak to, but she knew that Dante was talking up their simulation program and that was all that mattered. They finally moved to a room that was full of art being auctioned off as part of the fund-raiser. The room was also thankfully mostly devoid of the crush of people, which was good because she was getting hot.

  And she was exhausted by socializing with a language barrier.

  “My father is supposed to be here,” Dante groused. “I haven’t seen him.”

  “And that’s...?”

  “Good.” Dante squeezed her hand. “He likes these events. I don’t. I didn’t want to see him tonight, but then with you here and our baby...well, I was hoping to run into him.”

  “I take it my presence won’t make him happy?”

  “No.”

  “Why?” she asked, confused.

  “Because he never wants me to be happy.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “And you’re...happy?”

  “Sì, right now, I am.”

  She gasped and her pulse raced. She wanted to tell him she was happy around him too, but couldn’t.

  “I’m tired, Dante.”

  “We’ll go soon, cara. I know you’re tired.”

  “Thank you.” She held the mask at her side and didn’t look at the contemporary art that was on sale, but the Renaissance craftsmanship that was carved into the post and lintels of the palazzo. She ran her hand over it and she got a secret thrill of delight touching something that was so old.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Dante asked.

  “Yes, it is. You know, Venice in some ways reminds me a bit of New Orleans.”

  Dante arched a brow. “How so?”

  “It’s close to the water. We also have canals, though not as many as you.”

  “Go on,” he urged, smiling at her, those dark eyes twinkling. Her knees went a bit weak because the suit he was wearing fit him like a glove. It was all she could do to tear her eyes from him.

  “We have Mardi Gras and you have Carnivale,” she said.

  “I think that’s the Catholic influence,” he teased.

  “Perhaps, but I doubt Venice has voodo
o roots.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She grinned. “So one difference.”

  “What else is the same?”

  “I’ve seen plantations, on the inside, with similar architecture.”

  “Wasn’t that the Neoclassical movement?”

  “Could be,” Shay said. “I wouldn’t know. I didn’t take history, remember?”

  He shook his head. “I shall have to school you on history.”

  “No, thanks.” And they laughed together. Her pulse was racing, they were so close, and she was fighting the urge to reach up and kiss him. “Should we make that last round?”

  He sighed.

  Was that disappointment?

  “Sì, let’s...” He trailed off as he stared over her shoulder. Shay turned to see what had caught his attention. It was a tall, beautiful Italian woman all dressed in red.

  She was absolutely stunning.

  “Do you know her?” Shay asked.

  “Sì,” he said, through gritted teeth. If he’d been a dog, Shay would have sworn his hackles would be raised as he glared at the woman.

  The woman, as if sensing she was being glared at, turned and looked at them standing at the other end of the corridor.

  “Dante?” the woman asked as she glided over to them. “I thought that was you, mi amore.”

  Mi amore? My love?

  Dread knotted her stomach and for the first time in her life a flare of jealousy rose in her as the stunning woman called Dante her love and touched his arm as a lover would. She was relieved to see that Dante was none too thrilled to be in the woman’s company and did not return the endearment.

  “Olivia,” Dante acknowledged gruffly. “I thought hospital functions were beneath you?”

  “Usually, but a carnival-inspired one sounded too chic to pass up. Besides, Max wanted to come. His hotel chain is donating a vast quantity of money to the United World Wide Health Association.” Olivia’s cold olive-colored eyes landed on Shay. Her gaze raked her up and down, judging her and looking at her as if she were a piece of dirt. “I see you’re not alone either, mi amore. Who is this?”

  “Shay,” she said awkwardly. “I’m a nurse with the organization that you donated money to.”