I read over the text message for what must be the tenth time, the smile growing ever wider on my face.

Whatever Dante’s up to, I have a feeling it’s going to be good.

I run my fingers down Luciano’s head, giving him a good scratch behind the ears. He coos in response, tilting slightly towards me.

“What do you think?” I ask him. “Is Dante up to something good?”

He coos again, which sounds like an affirmation to my ears.

Our conversation is interrupted with the rap of knuckles on the door.

“What could that be?” I ask Luciano, already bolting to my feet in excitement.

I cross the room quickly, feet flying across the floor.

Taking a moment, I run my fingers through my hair before answering.

“Mrs. Walsh?” an immaculately dressed bellman asks.

I smile at the title. “Yes?”

“Delivery for you.”

He passes a box to me, larger than I would expect and tied closed with a single red ribbon.

“Anything else I can do for you while I’m here?”

I shake my head no, muttering my thanks even though my eyes are firmly glued to the box in my hands.

“Alright then, have a great day.” He turns to leave, walking quickly to whatever task awaits him.

“You, too!” I call belatedly, forcing my eyes from the box just as he’s about to turn the corner.

I close the door at his departure, already racking my brain for what could be in the box.

I rush to the bed, tearing at the ribbon in excitement. The lid slides off with a gentle rasp, revealing mounds of white tissue paper.

Pulling it aside, I finally manage to uncover the gift.

A small squeal of excitement escapes me as I do.

With trembling hands, I extract the garment—soft green fabric pooling around me as I do. It may in fact be the most gorgeous gown I’ve ever seen, beauty pageants and all.

I hold it up, taking in the view with ever-growing excitement.

If Dante went through the trouble of buying me a dress like this, I must be in for one hell of a day.

Without wasting any more time, I slide the clothes from my body, eagerly changing into the gown.

The fabric caresses gently across me, washing over me in soft waves.

When I, with some difficulty, have managed to secure it on me, I cross to the mirror, taking in my reflection with a grin.

I’ve never felt more beautiful.

I walk back to the bed, green folds grazing my feet as I go. In my excitement, I’ve buried the phone somewhere under mounds of tissue paper.

I dig quickly through it, wanting to text Dante. Needing to know what the day has in store for us.

Just as my hand wraps around the phone, another knock sounds at the door.

Curious, I make a beeline for it. Dante?

Another bellman greets me instead, his eyes roving appreciatively over the dark green of my gown.

“Your car is here, Mrs. Walsh.” he informs me, a polite smile affixed to his face.

“My car?”

“Yes. I’ve been instructed to escort you to it.”

I laugh, a sound of pure joy.

“Well, by all means,” I say, gesturing at the hall.

He leads the way quickly, guiding me through the hotel and back towards the lobby. When we reach it, he proceeds outside, only stopping once I have full view of the limo waiting there.

“Your car,” he repeats.

“Thank you!” I call, already rushing past him.

My heart flutters in my chest, knowing who likely sits in the vehicle.

I throw the door back unceremoniously, my eyes finding him immediately.

“Dante!”

“Do you like your dress?” he asks.

I let my eyes wander the length of him, taking in his appearance. His suit is immaculate, clearly expensive, his tie fit with tones that match my own clothes.

“I love it,” I say, throwing myself into the car and onto his lap.

My lips meet his with an audible smack, my hands reaching out to hold him.

“I can tell,” he laughs once we pull apart. “You look beautiful, Nicole.”

I grin. Right now, more than ever, I do feel beautiful.

“Where are we going?” I ask, looking around at the richly appointed limo.

He rolls his eyes. “What, and ruin the surprise now?”

He reaches over, pulling my door shut. “No way,” he teases.

Before I can ask again, the car begins to roll, whisking us off to wherever Dante has planned. I relax into the soft leather of the seat, content to find out when we get there.

Several minutes later, we arrive at our destination.

Albiubagio, the sign reads. Clearly a high-class restaurant.

“After you,” he says, gesturing.

I get out quickly, shoes clacking against the asphalt.

He follows behind, allowing me to lead our way inside.

The restaurant is gorgeous, my eyes drawn immediately to the chandelier lighting the room. Through the windows, I spot a view of the canal. Soft music greets us—Luciano, of course, pouring from the speakers that line the ceiling.

I glance around, noticing for the first time how empty the space is.

“Dante, I don’t think they’re open.”

His smile grows wider. “Oh, they’re open.”

He leads us to a table, flowers decorating the center of it.

“You didn’t,” I say, already feeling certain that he did.

“Oh, yes. It’s just me and you today.”

The gesture warms my heart.

“I love it,” I say, meeting his eyes with sincerity.

“I thought you might.”

A waiter comes into the room, his eyes finding us immediately.

“Welcome to our restaurant,” he says, each word heavily accented.

“Hello,” Dante and I say in unison.

“I see it’s a very special day,” he continues, his eyes twinkling. “Do we know what we’ll be having, or shall I bring you a menu?”

Dante looks askance at me, one eyebrow raised in question.

I feel a rush at his glance. A sudden overwhelming comfort seems to wash over me. For the first time in my life, I realize that I don’t mind someone making a decision for me.

Not if it’s Dante. I trust him completely.

“Why don’t you order for us?” I say, catching the twitch of his lips in response.

“Sure,” he says. “Why don’t I?”

Some time later, I finish my food with a small moan, the last bite every bit as good as the first.

“This was amazing, Dante. Really, the best lunch I’ve had…maybe ever.”

“Thanking me already?” he asks. “Honey, we’re just getting started.”

I can’t even respond before he takes a final gulp of his wine, standing quickly to extend his hand to me.

“Are you ready to see what’s next?”

I laugh loudly, standing as well. “Lead the way.”

He grasps my hand firmly, nodding to the server as we make our exit. The limo, still waiting near the entrance, roars to life at our approach.

“I guess you’re not telling me where we’re going this time either,” I say, sliding into the seat.

“I guess not,” he smirks.

“Fine, fine. I trust you.”

“Do you?” he asks, a severity to his voice that wasn’t there before.

“Absolutely.” I lean in, kissing him firmly. “More than anyone.”

He answers by pulling me close, his arm heavy and comforting around me. “Good.”

The limo pulls away, driving us to our next destination.

I stare out the window, eyes tracking the scenery around us. My mind races, wondering what Dante has planned next.

When the car finally comes to a stop, I can’t believe where we are.

I gasp softly, head spinning to find Dante, excitement dancing in my eyes.

“The Teatro dell’ Opera di Roma? You’re kidding me!”

“Excited?” he asks, knowing full well that I am.

“Yes!” I say anyway. “I can’t believe it.”

“Well, believe it.”

He places a quick kiss on my lips, exiting the car and leaving me to follow.

The theater seems to glow in front of us, making me feel every bit the moth drawn to the light.

“We better hurry,” he says, taking my hand. “Don’t wanna miss the beginning. They are doing your favorite opera, after all.”

Again, I’m caught completely off guard by this man.

I open my mouth to speak, discovering that there are no words. Instead, I squeeze his hand harder, emotions welling up within me.

Quickly, we make our way inside.

I feel overcome with excitement, more so than I have since I was a kid.

My entire life, I’ve wanted to come here. To see this stage and sit in these seats. Now it’s finally happening, and once again I have Dante to thank.

“How did you know?” I ask as we hurry up the stairs.

“You said so. In Venice, remember? This is the reason I wanted to take you to Rome.”

“I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course I did.”

He guides me out of the stairwell, leading me towards a curtain not far away.

With a flourish, he pulls the fabric aside, revealing a section of the balcony clearly reserved for us.

“Dante…” I whisper, feeling in awe of him.

We sit just as the lights turn down, the show beginning as if it was waiting for our arrival.

Dante reaches into his coat, pulling out two small sets of golden binoculars. He passes one to me before holding the other to his face for my approval.

“They look great.” I giggle.

He nods once, taking the compliment seriously, before turning to the stage.

I follow his actions, putting my own binoculars to my eyes.

The show is beginning, music rising up around us. It seems to crash against the walls, echoing through the theater with an authenticity no technology can match.

I turn, my eyes drawing back to Dante.

Years I’ve wanted to sit here.

I have dreamed of this place more often than I’d like to admit.

Now, that I’m finally here though, I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of the man next to me.

I find him looking at me as well, binoculars still pressed to his eyes.

His lips twitch, pulling into a smile that makes my heart skip a beat.

He skims his eyes down the length of me, over-exaggerating the movement so that I can’t miss his meaning.

I feel my own eyes scanning him, my breathing growing short.

With a force of will, I pull my eyes back to the stage, trying hard to focus on the scene playing out there.

My teeth find my bottom lip, biting down hard in an attempt to keep my attention in one place.

Still, I feel my control wavering, my head turning, seemingly of its own volition.

I’m not at all surprised to find Dante still staring at me, all pretense of humor now gone from his face.

His eyes sear into me, seeming bottomless in the dim lighting.

I feel my body scooting closer to his, pulled to him like a magnet. The force at work between us is just like that—it’s scientific, difficult to explain and impossible to resist.

The opera continues below us, now an afterthought to the emotions raging in my mind.

It’s a shame, really.

I finally get to this opera, and it looks like I’ll be missing it.