Dante smiled, the genuine one reserved only for his son.
“If Miss Ellie would like to dance, of course.”
Marco turned pleading eyes to me, and I laughed, taking his uninjured hand.
“I’d be honored.”
I led him to the dance floor, where he stood on my feet as I guided us in a simple box step. His face was alight with joy, a normal little boy having fun at a party.
Looking down at him, I felt a fierce protectiveness surge through me. Whatever dangers lurked in Dante Russo’s world, I would shield Marco from them with everything I had.
Over Marco’s head, I caught Dante watching us, his expression unreadable. When our eyes met, he raised his champagne glass slightly in acknowledgment, a gesture that felt strangely intimate amid the crowd.
Later, after Marco had fallen asleep in a private room arranged by the hotel staff, Dante and I stood on a terrace overlooking the city lights. The autumn air was crisp, but I barely noticed the cold.
“You were wonderful with him tonight,” Dante said. “With everyone.”
“I felt like an impostor. All these people with their wealth and power, and me in a borrowed dress.”
“Not borrowed. It’s yours. And you belong there more than most of them. Trust me.”
I turned to face him, struck by the rare compliment.
“Thank you for inviting me. I think Marco had fun.”
“Yes. But that wasn’t the only reason I wanted you here.”
Something in his tone made my heartbeat quicken.
“Oh?”
“I wanted to see you like this. Away from the estate. Away from your role as Marco’s caretaker. Just you.”
The intensity of his gaze made it hard to breathe.
“And what do you see?”
He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him.
“I see a woman of extraordinary compassion and strength, who chose to enter my world despite knowing its dangers. A woman who loves my son as if he were her own.”
