Dante’s Girl (22 page)

He tastes salty but I don’t care.

This is very uncharacteristic for him, to show this much of himself in public.

So I enjoy it while I can.

I enjoy it
a lot
while I can.

And I don’t care that tourists are watching us and smiling.

He finally pulls away and I’m breathless.

“Oh. 
That
kind of sample.  I don’t give those out to just anyone.  So you’re lucky today.”

He smiles and I decide that I’m the lucky one. 

“I came here for a purpose,” he announces.  “Well, two purposes.  One, to get a bottle of water.  And two, to ask you out. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?  Alone?”

Alone?  What a concept. 

We haven’t been alone since Dante left the hospital.  Marionette has practically been Dante’s shadow over the past couple of weeks, fretting about him like a little mother hen.  Dimitri has even been here a few times.  He felt so horrible about not being able to bring Dante home from the hospital himself.  We’ve had dinner in the main dining room with a group of people every night.

A real-honest-to-god date would be amazing. I nod.

“I’d love that.  Where are we going?”

“We’ll meet here,” Dante says.  I try to keep my face from falling.  How will we be alone here?  But Dante can read my expression and he laughs.  “You have to trust me,” he tells me.  “I’ll see you after work, okay? Meet me on the terrace at 6:00?”

I nod. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

He grins.  “Think about me this afternoon.”

Always,
I think.

“Maybe,” I say. 

He grins again and disappears through the door after grabbing a bottle of water from the cooler.  I can smell his scent lingering in the air even after he’s gone and I sniff at it.  Mia shakes her head. 

“You guys are sickening, just so you know,” she tells me. 

“And you’re not?  You and your lovesick moaning and groaning over Vincent?”

“It’s not love,” she informs me.  “It’s lust, pure and simple.  Get it straight, Kansas.”

I shake my head and try to think other thoughts to distract myself.  Otherwise, it’s going to be a very long afternoon. 6:00 p.m. seems like a month away.  I send a few texts to my mom, Becca and Grandma.  Then I smile at a few more tourists.  And all of that only took twenty minutes. 

 Sweet baby monkeys.  Scratch that.  6:00 p.m. seems like two months away.

But time passes as it always does, even though I’m impatient and jittery and anxious.

At 5:00 p.m., Mia and I close up the shop and jump into the cart and she drops me off at the house.  “Call me after your date,” she says with a ornery grin.

“Call me after
yours,”
I answer.  She waves and heads to her car and I head into the house to shower.

What should a person wear on a mystery date?  I rifle through my closet.  I’ve gone shopping only a couple more times since I’ve been here.  And I didn’t use my mom’s credit card, either. I used my paycheck from the gift shop.  Since my every need is taken care of here, I don’t have anything else that I need to buy other than clothes.  It’s a girl’s dream.

I decide on a pair of shorts and a white peasant blouse.   I think that if it were going to be a formal date, Dante would have told me. Or sent me a formal gown like he did last time. 

“Let me do your hair, ma chérie,” a quiet voice says from behind me.  I turn to find little Marionette crossing my bedroom.  I hadn’t even heard her come in.

I once again marvel at her size.  She’s so tiny, like a little sprite with a gray bun.  She makes me feel like an Amazon woman. 

“You have a special date with Master Giliberti tonight, yes?”

Marionette smiles at me with her creased grin as she picks up a brush and tugs me onto the bed.  She sits next to me and brushes out my hair.  And I close my eyes.  It’s been a really long time since anyone but me has brushed my hair.  It’s nice.

“I don’t know where we’re going,” I tell her.  “It’s a secret.  Or a surprise, I guess.”

Marionette’s gnarled little hands run through my hair, feeling for tangles. 

“Oh, don’t fret, little one,” she tells me.  “Master Dante is very thoughtful.  He’s always been.  He takes after both of his parents in that way.”

“You knew his mother.”  The realization dawns on me and I turn to face her. 

Marionette is nodding.  “Ah, yes, I did.  A gentler woman than Daniella will never be found on this earth.”

Daniella. 

So, they
did
name their boat after her.

“What was she like?” I ask.  “I only wonder because it makes me sad that Dante didn’t get to know her. I can’t imagine what that must be like. And I’m very glad that he’s had you, Marionette.”

She practically preens in front of me at my praise. 

“Daniella was a very gentle spirit.  She was a free spirit, so beautiful and kind.  And she couldn’t wait for Dante to be born.  She looked forward to it every day of her pregnancy.  What happened was a tragedy.  It’s been a pleasure for me, watching him grow up,” she says thoughtfully as she stares past me.  “He was such a good little boy.  He was sunny and cheerful from the moment he was born, just like his beautiful mama.  He’s turned into a good man.  I’m proud of him.  And I don’t want to see him get hurt, either.  He’s had too much pain in his life already.”

Marionette’s tone has turned stern and I look at her in surprise.  Was that directed at me?

“Um, I’m not going to hurt him, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I tell her.  “Marionette, he’s way out of my league.  Way, way out there.  If anyone does any hurting, it will be him, I’m sure.”

Marionette laughs and I don’t see what’s funny. 

“Ah, little one,” she says as she pulls the sides of my hair back and twists them into a clasp.  “In that way, you’re very like his mother. Very modest.  You have a natural glow about you.  It’s charming.  And you don’t realize how beautiful you are. And that is charming, as well.  A girl like Elena, well, she knows what her strengths are and uses them to her every advantage.  I’m very happy that Dante has chosen you.  Very happy, indeed.  Elena was wrong for him.  And I think that you’re the right one.  But I still don’t want you to hurt him.  Even inadvertently.”  She pokes at my shoulder for emphasis.

Inadvertently.  She
does
know fluent English. Dante was right.

I tell her so and she laughs again.

“Don’t tell anyone,” she instructs me.  “It comes in handy to pretend I don’t understand.  Or that I can’t hear.  I can hear everything, trust me.”

Her eyes are eagle sharp and I have no doubt that her ears are, as well.  I nod.

“Now then, sweet.  You are ready.  Don’t keep my boy waiting.  He’s taking you somewhere special.”

And she was gone.  My word.  She moves quickly for an older person. 

I have only a few minutes to spare, so I shoot some quick emails to my mom, my dad and my grandma.  My grandpa doesn’t have an email account, but grandma reads him messages from hers. 

And then it’s 5:55. 

Finally.

I think paint could have dried faster than it took for this day to pass.

I close the lid to my laptop and make my way to the back terrace.

And Dante is already there waiting for me.

The sun is starting to sink over the horizon and Dante stands directly against that backdrop.  And I can’t decide what is more beautiful. The sunset or him. 

He’s wearing black slacks and a short sleeved grayish-blue v-neck.  And it hugs his chest and makes his eyes look slightly gray and is striking against his blonde hair.  Can he get any more beautiful?  Seriously. Couldn’t God have given Dante just a tiny little imperfection so that he didn’t distract me quite so easily?

He sees me and smiles and greets me with a sweet kiss on the forehead, which of course makes my heart automatically melt. I can practically feel it dripping into my ribcage.

“Did you have a good day?” Dante asks politely.

I nod. “Yep.  A little slow. You?”

“A tortoise could have crawled faster than today passed,” he tells me.  “I couldn’t wait to see you.”

My heart picks up because this mirrors my feelings exactly.  And boys back home wouldn’t ever say such a thing even if they thought it.  Dante is so different. 

And could Marionette be right?  Is it possible that this beautiful, perfect boy likes me as much as I like him?

“Your carriage awaits,” he tells me. 

He gestures with his arm and I look and there is an honest-to-god carriage sitting at the steps leading to the terrace.  With an honest-to-god beautiful white horse pulling it.

I stare at it in shock.  How did I not see that when I first walked outside?

“I thought that Caberra doesn’t have horses?” I ask, scrambling down the steps to pet the huge horse’s velvet nose.  It huffs a pant of hot air against my cheek and I stroke its soft neck.  “Yes, you’re a pretty baby,” I murmur to it.   

“We didn’t.  I had this one brought in for you.  You seemed to miss riding,” he shrugs casually, like it didn’t cost a ton of money to do this incredibly thoughtful thing for me.

I’m speechless. For the first time in… ever.  And I tell him that.

“I doubt it will last long,” he says wryly and then laughs.  And I slap at his arm.  And his arm is like a rock.  Working out in the fields with Darius has made him even more muscular if that is even possible. 

Gulp.

He holds out a hand.

“Would you like to go for a drive?”

Would I ever.

He moves to take my hand and because his eyes are locked with mine, he doesn’t see the giant pile of horse poop sitting in front of him.  And he steps in it.

We both freeze and he’s horrified and I’m horrified and I don’t know what to do.

But laugh. 

Because it smells so bad.

And he looks so perfect and refined and beautiful and his foot is covered in fresh horse manure and it’s even funnier because he’s never been around a horse before.  It’s too hilariously insane. 

I start cracking up and then Dante laughs. 

He kicks off his black loafers into the grass, and I’m sure they are Italian leather and very expensive, and now one is completely covered in horse poo. The thought of it sends me into a new and fresh fit of giggles. 

Dante rolls his eyes at me as he bends down and rolls up his slacks.

“Aren’t you going to get another pair of shoes?” I ask when I can finally breathe.  He shakes his head. 

“Nope.  I don’t need them.  Where we’re going, I don’t need shoes.”

I stare at him, my curiosity freshly piqued. 

“Hmm.  A riddle,” I murmur. 

And I take the hand that he offers me once again. 

This time, it goes off without a hitch and he helps me into the beautiful little carriage without incident. And I feel sort of like a princess.  With a barefoot prince.  Dante nods towards someone that I can’t see and a groomsman emerges from the edge of the house.  He’d been waiting for Dante’s signal.  He climbs up to the driver’s seat and looks back at Dante. 

“Where to, sir?”

“To the docks,” Dante answers. 

I’m busy looking at the carriage.  It could honestly have been taken directly out of a fairy tale.  It’s roundish and plush. And pretty large on the inside, actually.  There are a couple of folded up jackets, a picnic basket and a bouquet of flowers sitting on the seat across from me. 

Dante picks up the flowers and hands them to me.

“You look beautiful this evening,” he tells me.  His eyes are sparkling again.  “Do you like your surprise?  You’ll be able to ride him now, whenever you’d like. And you can teach me, too. If you’re willing, I mean.”

Oh, I’m willing.

Oh. Wait.  He meant willing to give horse-back riding lessons. 

I’m willing to do that too. Of course I am.  He can have anything he’d like.

But I don’t say that.  Instead, I nod. 

“Of course.  I’d love to teach you.”

Dante settles back into the seat and stretches his arm out on the seat behind me. I lean into it, into his warmth.  I’ve never been more comfortable in my entire life.  I tell him that and he laughs.

And life is officially perfect.

The horse’s hooves clip-clop on the road and cars pass us.  The Caberrans inside of them gawk at us because it’s definitely not a common thing to have horses strolling along the highway.  I don’t see Dante’s security detail, but I’m sure they are following us somewhere. But I don’t mention it.  I don’t want to bring up anything annoying tonight. 

Because tonight is perfect.

The sun is really setting now and it’s beautiful.  The oranges and reds and golds are shining over the horizon and onto our skin and everything is romantic and dreamy. 

It’s like a dream, actually.

I lean up and kiss Dante’s cheek and he smells like the ocean and the salt and the sun.  And maybe the woodsy scent of the olive groves.  I sigh.  There’s no way that life gets any better than this.  I settle back into his side for the drive and he wraps his arm around me. 

I know when we are close to the docks because I see sails peeking up into the sky.  Sails of every color- white, blue, red, orange, yellow.  Boats of all sizes are docked in neat slips along the various piers.  The carriage pulls up to a quaint little boardwalk and stops. 

Dante climbs barefoot down the little steps with the picnic basket and waits with his hand outstretched to help me down.  And then he leads me onto a pier.  At the end of this pier, I can see his boat.  I know it is his because the name
Daniella
is huge and gold on the stern and I can see it from here. 

And it’s not really a boat so much as it is a yacht. 

A really big yacht. 

“Are you ready for that alone time that I promised?” Dante asks me. 

I look at him. 

And I know that I’m ready for alone time with him.

And that includes anything that
alone time
with him might entail. 

I’m readier than I’ve ever been for anything in my entire life.

I nod and take his hand and he leads me to the
Daniella.