Page 23 of His Fantasy Bride (Things To Do Before You Die)

And then the door shut behind them, and he sank back onto the sofa.

…

“Vittorio D’Ascensio!”

It was amazing how loud a whisper could sound.

“What the hell is Vittorio D’Ascensio doing in my goddamned apartment?”

Gabby decided to ignore the question while she thought about an answer. Christ, if she’d thought there was any chance of Theresa turning up, she never would have allowed Vito to step foot in the place. That reminded her of why Theresa was here.

“Are you really all right?” she asked. Beneath her olive skin, Theresa was pale.

“I’m fine. Well, fine-ish. A patient decided he didn’t want me removing a piece of glass from his arm. I got cut in the ensuing fracas. Bastard.”

Gabby knew the implications of that—infection was a continual risk for a nurse, especially at the hospital where Theresa worked, as many of the ER patients were drug users or prostitutes. “Will you need to be tested?”

“Yeah, already done. But it’s minimum risk. They cleaned the wound out really well. Too well—it hurt like fuck. I’ll be fine.” Her eyes narrowed even further. “Forget about me and just explain how Vito D’A-fucking-scensio is out there in my living room, and you’re dressed up as if for a date. A date with D’Ascensio. Tell me I’m hallucinating.”

“It’s complicated. I just met him, and I didn’t know who—”

“You’re lying.”

She gave a small nod. “Yeah.” Theresa always saw straight through her—there was no point in trying to convince her. Never going to happen. “But it’s complicated. Really complicated.”

She studied Gabby through narrowed eyes. “And why do you look like you’re going to a funeral.” She peered closer. “In fact, thatisthe dress I bought for my aunt’s funeral last year—and those are my pearls. You’re not going to a funeral are you?”

Gabby frowned. She hadn’t thought much as she’d dressed. Her hands had just gravitated toward the black dress—it seemed appropriate. “No. Sorry, I just borrowed them. We’re going to dinner.”

“Dinner with a D’Ascensio, dressed for a funeral. Hmm, what’s going on, Gabby?”

Her brain churned furiously, but what could she say? Maybe the truth—she’d always meant to tell Theresa what had happened, but she’d never found the right time.

And with Vito in the room next door, it wasn’t now.

“Look, if I promise to tell you when I get back, will you let us go now? No torture, no revealing who you are to your dreaded archenemy in there. No reliving ancient blood feuds.”

“You’ll tell me when you get back? Cross your heart and hope to die?”

“Cross my heart.” She made the childhood gesture they always used when they were sharing secrets.

Theresa nodded. “Okay, you have a dispensation.” She grinned. “He’s hot, isn’t he? Better looking than Luca. I bet that pisses my brother off.”

Gabby exhaled a sigh of relief. She was saved for now. “Are you really going to be all right? I can cancel and stay here.”

“No, really, they’ve given me some super-strong painkillers. I’m going to take them, and I’ll be woozy for the next few hours, and I want to be wide awake when we have our conversation.”

She heaved a huge sigh. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

As she was opening the door, Theresa spoke again. “You’re not in any trouble are you?”

“No.” Of course she wasn’t in trouble—she’d just spend a bit of purely platonic time with Mr. Super-Hottie, he’d realize she wasn’t anything like what he wanted, and this time he would be the one to vanish. And she could get on with her life without this horrible guilt eating away at her. Win-win situation.

Then she glanced down at the little black dress she was wearing. So not her style. Was she subconsciously channeling Gabrielle, when she’d promised herself Gabby from now on? Subconscious or not, it was too late to change. She put on a bright grin for Vito as he turned from where he’d been staring out of the window. “Let’s go then.”

“Your friend is okay? You don’t want to stay?”

He was just so nice. “She’s fine. She’s going straight to bed—it will make no difference if I’m here.”

---