Chapter Twenty-Six

 

“Hey. What exactly are you doing? You’re not supposed to be exerting yourself. And by my set of rules, cooking dinner is definitely exerting yourself.”

Cara wrinkled her nose as Dante all but stormed inside his kitchen. “Honestly? All I’m doing is heating up the soup you brought home from Whole Foods yesterday. And slicing the bread.”

He sniffed the air suspiciously. “I smell something besides vegetable soup and sourdough bread.”

She flicked her fingers in the direction of the microwave. “That would be the fully cooked rotisserie chicken you also brought home being warmed up. But if you think it’s too physically demanding for me, I’ll let you carve it when it’s done.”

Dante gave her a playful swat on the butt. “Smart-ass. If your sassy mouth is anything to go by, then you’re feeling a whole lot better.”

Cara laughed and looped her arms around his necking, standing on her bare tiptoes to reach his mouth and plant a smacking kiss on his lips. “I am feeling better. I’ve been trying to tell you that for the last two days, but you still insist on treating me like an invalid. Oh, and by the way, I’m going back to work on Monday and starting my classes that night. And short of tying me up there’s no way you’re going to keep me from doing either of those things.”

He gave her a lecherous grin. “Hmm, I’ll have to give that one some thought. I mean, given that you’re still recuperating from those cracked ribs, I guess some light bondage wouldn’t be very considerate of me, would it? But seriously, Cara, if you’re intent on going back to work and school in two more days, it’s going to have to be on my terms, not yours. Otherwise, sore ribs or not I’ll find a way to restrain you. Okay?”

She sighed dramatically, turning the gas burner down to low as the soup began to bubble up. “What are these so-called terms of yours exactly?”

“First off,” he began, holding up his index finger, “starting Monday morning I drive you to and from the office, and to and from your classes. That is not negotiable, Cara. In fact, you might as well turn in your bus pass because you aren’t going to be using it again. Until you get your driver’s license renewed, I’ll either drive you where you need to go or you’ll use Uber or Lyft. That is also non-negotiable. Following me so far?”

Cara scowled, not really sure she was liking this bossy, dominant side of him. “Yes. Not liking what I hear, but I’m listening at least. Go on.”

“Next, you’re going to move in here with me permanently. As in bag and baggage. Except of course for that crappy futon, which I never, ever want to lay eyes on again. Maybe some homeless person will take it off your hands. When is your lease up at that little box you just think is an apartment?” he asked.

She held up a hand in protest. “Hey, do I get any say in any of this? Did you even ask my opinion about whether I wanted to live with you full time?”

Dante smirked. “Come on, Cara. Can you seriously admit that you don’t like it here a whole lot better? And look, I even have a real stove you can cook on.”

She gave him a shove, wincing when her still-sore ribs protested with the effort. “That’s not fair,” she whined. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been deliberately tempting me all week, pointing out how nice this place is, how much space there is, how much safer it is, blah, blah, blah.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders, gazing down at her mischievously. “Ah, but you forgot to mention the biggest attraction about moving in here - me. Waking up next to me, showering together, taking turns fixing breakfast for each other. After work we’d have a quick dinner before you went to class. And then comes the best part of the day.”

Cara had felt her resolve weakening with each deliberately seductive word that had come out of his sinfully handsome mouth. He was very intentionally wooing her right now, doing his utmost to persuade her into agreeing to his suggestion. “And what would that be?”

Dante cupped her cheeks between his palms, holding her head still as he kissed her, his tongue making slow, sensual sweeps through her mouth. She was gasping for breath by the time he finally lifted his head, his forefinger brushing over her swollen lips.

“The time of the day when I’d undress you very, very slowly,” he murmured huskily, his hand sliding down her arm until it cupped her breast. His thumb rubbed the already erect nipple through her ribbed sweater. “Next I’d spread you out on my bed - correction, our bed - and take my time with you. Mmm, I’d touch and kiss and adore you from head to toe and then back up again. I’d worship this beautiful little body of yours all over, every single inch. And then I’d make you come two or three times for starters, with my fingers and my tongue, just to get you ready for me. Because then I’d want to fuck you for a really long time, until you fell asleep from exhaustion. But I’d be considerate and let you sleep for a little while, only to wake you up in the middle of the night because I’d want you again.”

Her breathing had turned positively shallow by then, an action made that much more difficult by her cracked ribs, and she thought for a few seconds that she might just pass out from lack of oxygen. Her cheeks were flushed - correction, her whole body felt hot, every pulse point racing madly. The sexy, knowing smile on Dante’s devilishly handsome face made her knees grow weak, and she absentmindedly clutched the granite counter just behind her for support.

“You really do play dirty, don’t you?” she said accusingly, but it was a half-hearted accusation at best. “And it’s not very nice of you to get me all hot and bothered when you know we can’t do anything about it for a few more days.”

“I could take care of you, honey,” he murmured, sliding his hand down over her belly until he was cupping her between the thighs. “Of course, you’d need to keep very, very still so that you didn’t make the pain in your ribs any worse, and I’m not sure you’re capable of that. And since the last thing I’d want to do is cause you even a second of pain, guess we’ll have to wait on this a little while longer.”

He grinned evilly as he removed his hand and stepped away, then yelped as she snapped a dishtowel at him, connecting with his upper thigh.

“You’re going to pay for that, mister,” she threatened. “Starting with tonight.”

Dante’s grin widened. “Oh, yeah? What sort of revenge are you plotting?”

Cara smiled serenely just as the microwave pinged. “Well, you can start with cutting up the chicken as we’ve already discussed. And then after dinner you can do the dishes.”

He smirked as he took the chicken out of the microwave. “Hate to break the news, honey, but I was planning on doing that anyway.”

She patted him on the butt as she passed by on her way to the dining area. “Oh, that’s just for starters. You’ll have to wait until I’m all healed up before I exact the next phase of my revenge. Let’s just say I might be tempted to leave you, uh, hanging. After all, turnabout is fair play, isn’t it?”

Dante glowered at her in mock-severity. “Lucky for you that you’re still indisposed. Otherwise I’d be showing you just how unfairly I can play.”

Cara blew him a saucy kiss. “Raincheck?”

He winked at her in return. “That goes without saying. Now, let me get to work here, hmm? And no, you are not lifting another finger this evening. Keep your cute little ass where it is and let me pamper you, okay?”

“You’ve been pampering me for days now, Dante,” she reminded him. “A girl could get used to this real quick.”

Pampering didn’t begin to describe the way he’d been taking care of her these past six days. She could also include words like coddling, spoiling, indulging, and fussing, and that still wouldn’t go far enough.

It had begun on Tuesday morning when she’d been declared well enough to be discharged from the hospital. Unbeknownst to her, Dante had taken care of the bill, paying it off in full, as well as paying for her prescription pain medication. And even though he owned a dozen luxury vehicles, he’d hired a town car to pick them up from the hospital and take them to his condo, so that he could tend to her during the relatively short drive.

From the outside, his condo building had looked older, less modern, than most of the others in the immediate neighborhood. But as he’d wheeled her inside the high-ceilinged, marble floored lobby - Dante had insisted on renting a wheelchair even though she’d protested that she would rather walk - Cara had realized that the building had oodles of charm and character, something more modern structures seemed to lack.

His penthouse was spacious and open, with floor to ceiling windows that let in natural light even in the middle of January. And while there were many modern touches - like the huge kitchen that boasted every appliance and gadget a cook could ever dream of, and the bathroom with its huge tiled shower and heated floors that was bigger than her entire apartment - Dante’s condo also had gorgeous crown molding, original hardwood floors of polished oak, and a window seat in the master bedroom that Cara knew could quickly become her favorite spot in the whole place.

He’d taken care in decorating the rooms, too, and she knew without having to ask that he had chosen most of the furniture and other items himself, instead of hiring a professional to do it for him. There were framed photographs of his family on nearly every surface, and Cara felt instantly at home in these elegant but comfortable environs.

Dante had been true to his word, too, about working from home, making use of the office he’d set up at the condo to call clients, send emails, and even participate in meetings via Skype. He’d tucked her into his enormous king-sized bed, where she could watch TV or read the dozens of e-books he had already loaded onto the brand new tablet computer he’d surprised her with - a “welcome home” gift, he had called it.

And somehow, in between spending the better part of the day at the hospital on Monday, and picking her up the next morning, Dante had found time to do quite a bit of shopping – buying all sorts of pre-prepared foods and snacks, an assortment of toiletries that she might need, and several sets of loungewear and lingerie. And when Mirai had popped in after school to visit with her for awhile, Dante had headed over to Cara’s apartment to pick up her laptop and some other clothes and things she needed.

Mirai, of course, had been completely bowled over by the size and elegance of his condo, insisting to Cara that the place had to be worth well over five million, given its prime location. During Dante’s absence, Mirai had poked around a little, oohing and ahhing over the high quality of nearly everything in the place - from the latest model flat screen TV, to the contents of his wine refrigerator, to the plush towels in each of the three bathrooms.

“He’s loaded,” she’d told Cara rather matter-of-factly. “I mean, really loaded. Probably way more than even my father. You landed yourself a big fish, girl.”

Cara had fidgeted a little on the sectional sofa where she’d insisted on moving after lunch. “I don’t care about how much money he has, Mir,” she’d replied quietly. “If he was as poor as I was, and we had to live in my little apartment and take the bus everywhere, I’d still be as much in love with him.”

Mirai had grinned. “Well, duh. That’s because he’s also a hottie. Like a scorching hot, triple digit hottie. And not only is he gorgeous and hunky, but he’s nice, too. Sure seems like he’s going way out of his way to make everything up to you.”

“Hmm.” Cara had regarded her BFF dubiously. “What happened to the part about telling him to go fuck himself? As I recall, you advised me to do just that about three times a day after he broke up with me.”

“All is forgiven now,” Mirai had said cheerfully. “I mean, you just cannot stay mad at a guy who buys you an entire black and white cake from Whole Foods, now can you? How did he know this was my favorite?”

“He didn’t,” Cara had retorted, watching as Mirai shoved a whole forkful of cake into her mouth. “I’m pretty sure he bought it for me. Luckily it’s a big cake, and there’s no way I can eat the whole thing.”

“Hey, I was starving,” Mirai had protested. “I rushed over here the minute my classes were over with so I could check up on you, and didn’t stop for lunch first.”

“I’m joking, Mir,” she’d assured. “Besides, these pain meds I’m taking tend to make me a little queasy, so I’m not eating much right now. And you’ve done so much for me that even if I gave you a dozen black and white cakes it wouldn’t even begin to repay you. So eat up.”

“Really?” Mirai had brightened. “Were those fresh crab cakes I saw in the fridge? And a container of those Thai noodles I love?”

Cara had laughed, still wondering how her thin as a rail friend could possibly pack away so much food without also packing on the pounds. “Help yourself. Though one usually has the entree before the dessert.”

Mirai had forked off another bite of cake. “No worries. I’m pretty sure I also saw a peach cobbler in there somewhere.”

Over the last day or so, Cara had begun to wean herself off the strong prescription pain meds, not liking the way they made her so sleepy as well as nauseous, and was now using an over the counter product instead. The resulting dizziness from the concussion had more or less gone away, and while the pain in her ribs continued to throb pretty much consistently, it was a duller, more manageable ache now. She was taking fewer naps, and forcing herself to move around the condo at regular intervals, trying to get her strength back. It would probably be a few weeks yet before she could resume her normal exercise routine, but she was determined to remain as mobile as possible until then.

And while Dante watched her like a hawk to make sure she didn’t overdo, he hadn’t stopped her from exploring around the condo at her leisure. She had looked through every cupboard and drawer in his huge, well-equipped kitchen, and was already planning out what she would cook for him once she had recuperated a bit more. The kitchen was every aspiring chef’s dream, and she wondered if he had bought all of the gadgets and tools himself.

He shook his head at the question. “Not everything, no. I made the mistake of taking my grandmother with me to the kitchen supply store when I first moved into this place, and she filled the basket with stuff I didn’t even know existed. I doubt I’ve used even a third of the things we bought. So feel free to experiment to your heart’s content, honey. Maybe you’ll know what to do with a mandoline or a pair of herb scissors. And I swear I have no idea why anyone would ever need an apple slicer. What’s wrong with just using a knife?”

She giggled at the look of disgust on his face. “I promise I’ll actually get use out of all those things. That is, if you’ll ever allow me to lift anything heavier than a soup spoon. And since I’m not taking those prescription painkillers any longer, don’t you think I could have a glass of wine?”

“Hmm. I guess so. Just half, though. Those meds could still be in your system, and you know how sick they made you the first few days.”

He snagged a wine glass for her, the ones Mirai had blithely declared cost at least a hundred bucks apiece, and poured a careful measure of pinot noir inside. Cara took a deep, appreciative sniff of the wine before sipping it slowly.

“Mmm. That’s delicious. But you’re right, I’d better stick to half a glass. After all, not only are you feeding me all of this incredible food, but I haven’t been able to exercise for almost a week. All that weight I worked so hard to lose is going to creep back on awfully fast at this rate,” she lamented.

“Good,” retorted Dante. “You’re too thin right now. And maybe you were right about dropping a few pounds, but you went way overboard, Cara. We need to fatten you up a little.”

“No.” She shook her head stubbornly. “You have no idea how hard I worked to take those pounds off, Dante. And while I don’t intend to lose any more, I’d also like to maintain my current weight. I’m nowhere near being skinny, you know. And my ass is still too big.”

He waggled a finger at her. “Your ass is perfect,” he corrected. “Just like the rest of you. So while I won’t bug you to put weight on, I’d also be ticked off if you lost anymore. After all, the last thing you’ll want to happen when you meet my grandmother next weekend is for her to call you la ragazza magra.”

Cara’s brow knitted together in confusion. “Sorry, my high school Italian is a little rusty. Which I’d better brush up on fast if I’m going to meet your grandmother, by the way. What does that mean - la ragazza magra?”

Dante grinned. “The skinny girl. And in my family, that isn’t considered a compliment. So you’d better eat up, honey.”

 

 

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so terrified in my life, Dante. Even getting mugged two weeks ago wasn’t as scary as this.”

Dante reached across the gearshift to give Cara’s thigh a reassuring squeeze. “Relax, would you? My grandmother might come off as a little intimidating, but she’s not scary. Well, unless she’s angry, of course, and then you’d better find a good hiding place until she calms down. But there’s no reason in the world you have to feel nervous about meeting her, honey. Nonna is going to love you, just like my mom and my sister did when they met you last night.”

He’d intentionally driven them up to Healdsburg last night – a Friday - after work, even though the traffic had been hellacious and the weather unsettled. There was no way he wanted Cara to have to meet all of his family at once, and thought it would be easier on her to at least spend some time with his mother, sister, and brother-in-law first. Jeannie had offered to fix a simple dinner, and invited Talia, Tony, and baby Ariella to join them.

Jeannie had taken one look at Cara before breaking into a wide grin, and wasting no time in giving her an exuberant welcome hug. The two women had taken to each other right away, and Cara had scored immediate points by asking how she could help with the dinner. She’d also found the time somehow between work and classes to bake a French apple pie to bring along for dessert.

Cara hadn’t hesitated for even a minute to jump right into the conversation at the dinner table, and before the salad plates had been cleared away, Dante knew she’d already won his mother and sister over. By the time coffee and dessert had been served, it felt like Cara had been one of the family for years already, instead of just a few hours.

And she’d been nearly delirious with happiness as they’d made their way to the bedroom Dante always used when he visited, her pretty face wreathed in smiles.

“Your mom is so sweet,” Cara had gushed as they got ready for bed. “And hilarious, too. You should have seen the look on your face when I was holding Ariella, and your mom asked if we’d picked out baby names yet. I thought you were going to bust a vein or something!”

Dante had shook his head in disgust. “Yeah, my mother can be a real comedienne at times. But that crack about the baby names is something of a private joke.”

“I figured that. But she was so nice to me, Dante. Your sister and brother-in-law, too. I guess if the rest of your family is the same way, it won’t be so bad tomorrow, right?”

Tomorrow – Saturday - was his Aunt Dolores’ sixty-fifth birthday, and a big party was being held at the family restaurant to celebrate. He’d hesitated initially at throwing Cara to the wolves - figuratively, of course - given that there would be at least a hundred people in attendance between family and friends. But she’d quickly dismissed his doubts, assuring him that she wouldn’t mind in the least.

“The more the merrier!” she’d declared cheerily. “Well, except for your grandmother, maybe. I have this awful feeling that she’s going to hate me, Dante.”

“She is not going to hate you,” he had insisted. “Stop thinking that, okay? Now, I’m not guaranteeing that she’s going to take to you immediately like my mom did - Nonna isn’t exactly known for being warm and fuzzy - but everything will be fine. Trust me, okay?”

“Okay.”

She’d snuggled up against him then, and the feel of her soft, curvy little body had aroused him instantly. Despite Cara’s assurances that she was feeling much better, and that she barely noticed the pain in her ribs any longer, Dante had been wary of any attempts as yet to make love to her. But his ability to resist her had been wearing perilously thin, and when her small hand slid down over his stomach to begin stroking his cock persuasively, he was a total goner.

Cara had gasped as he divested himself of his gray cotton briefs, then just as swiftly yanked her little sleepshirt off over her head. His hands had taken quick possession of her full breasts, groaning aloud at the feel of their heavy weight in his palms. He hadn’t been able to resist running his tongue over each erect nipple, then sucking one areola into his mouth before moving on to the other.

Her hands had tangled in his hair, pulling him closer against her as their legs quickly became intertwined. He’d been so hard that his balls ached, his cock practically begging for release, and he hadn’t especially cared at that point how or where the orgasm he needed so badly would be achieved. The choices were Cara’s hand, mouth, tits, or pussy, and he’d impulsively decided on the latter.

“You’ll need to be on top,” he’d rasped, rolling onto his back and then pulling her astride him. “I know you keep insisting that your ribs feel better, but I’m still afraid of hurting you if I’m on top.”

Cara had bent low over his prone body, her breasts crushed against his chest as she’d kissed him. “You could never, ever hurt me,” she’d murmured. “But we’ll do it your way. Otherwise, I’m afraid you’d feel like you had to hold back.”

He’d gritted his teeth, his hands clutching the bedsheets as she had slowly guided the tip of his throbbing penis inside of her, then even more slowly lowered herself until he was buried to the balls.

His hands had gripped her hips fiercely, holding her in place as she would have otherwise began to ride him. “Stay still for a minute or two, okay?” he’d choked out. “You feel so fucking tight and hot around my dick that I’m afraid I’ll come within about thirty seconds if you move just yet. Just - let me get control of myself.”

She’d complied with his hoarsely uttered request, remaining perfectly still while he took several deep breaths, willing his heart to stop racing. He gazed up at her, studying her nude body for the first time since he’d brought her to live with him last week. Oh, he’d seen her naked, or partially so, during the times he had helped her to dress and undress, or assisted her out of the shower. But he’d grimaced each time he had spied the ugly bruises along her ribcage, as well as the other various scrapes and bruises she sported, and he’d quickly looked away, too overcome with anger at what she’d suffered to see any more.

But now, when she had mostly healed, and the bruising was nearly gone, he looked his fill. She was slimmer, of course, since the last time he’d seen her nude body - her breasts a bit less full, her torso leaner, her belly far flatter. But she was every bit as soft and tempting and womanly as ever, and he couldn’t resist running his hands along her firm thighs, or sliding them back to squeeze her taut buttocks. She’d whimpered impatiently beneath his touch, wanting, needing him as much as he craved her.

His hands at her hips guided her then, coaxing her to ride him with the rhythm he showed her, slowly at first and then becoming faster and faster until he was fucking her frantically, thrusting his cock as deep inside of that sweet, snug pussy as hard as he could. As tight as she felt in this position, she took all of him, took every deep thrust, every powerful rock of his hips, every rasp of his thumb over her clit. She braced her hands on his thighs when she came, the inner walls of her vagina squeezing his cock like a fist with the orgasmic contractions. And seeing the pleasure wash over her face, watching as her eyes closed in reaction and her breathing become uneven, was all he needed to climax, spilling himself inside of her almost violently.

Cara had collapsed weakly onto his chest after that, her lips pressed against his shoulder as he’d soothingly rubbed little circles over her back.

“I didn’t use a condom,” he had mumbled. “First time in my life I forgot. Shit.”

“It’s okay,” she’d assured him sleepily. “My period just ended three days ago, so we should be safe. Unless, of course, you really do want to pick out baby names.”

He’d given her a playful smack on the buttocks. “Smartass,” he’d chided. “And the answer to that question is no. At least, it’s no for right now. I do want kids one of these days, though. You?”

Cara had nodded. “Of course. But again, not right now. So I should probably get myself back on some sort of birth control real soon. I used to take the pill, but it made me gain weight and bloat up so I stopped a couple of years ago.”

“We’ll figure something out,” he’d agreed. “And it would be nice not to have to use condoms for once in my life. It felt pretty fucking amazing to ride you bareback just now.”

She had bit down gently on one of his nipples. “And here I thought I was the one riding you.”

Dante had chuckled. “Figure of speech, Cara mia. But it did feel fantastic, so if you’re willing to take care of the birth control from now on, I’ll happily toss my supply of Trojans in the trash.”

“It’s a deal.”

She had yawned sleepily then, and even though he could have happily slid back inside her tight little body and lingered there awhile, he’d acknowledged that she was still in recovery mode from her injuries. He had tucked a long strand of her hair behind her ear, and kissed her forehead.

“Get some sleep now, honey,” he’d told her.

“Are you sure?” she had asked in concern, her hand pressing against his chest. “You, um, don’t feel like you’ve, ah, had enough.” She’d given his semi-erect cock a little nudge with her knee.

Dante had stifled a groan, but had been determined to do the gentlemanly thing. “I never have enough when it comes to you,” he’d replied softly. “But I can wait until the morning. After all, given what a jerk I was to you about never spending the night, we’ve also never had wake-up sex.”

“Are you positive that’s safe?” she’d fretted. “And I’m not referring to the birth control thing. I just want to make sure that - well, that your mom won’t be able to hear us, uh, waking up that way.”

He’d laughed in response. “No, she won’t hear us. For one thing, her room is on the opposite end of this floor. And second, when I convinced her to let me have this house remodeled a few years ago, one of the first things I did was to have all the insulation replaced. This room is practically soundproof now.”

“Okay.” Cara had given another huge yawn, satisfied with his answer. “Good night, then. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Cara mia. Rest up, okay? We have a busy day tomorrow.”

She’d nodded, closing her eyes, and was silent for long seconds. But just when he figured she had fallen asleep, she murmured, “Just so we’re clear. If you ever break up with me again, I’m claiming custody of your family.”

Laughter had rumbled in his chest. “We’re clear. But nothing to worry about, because I’ve got no plans to ever let you go again. Not when I came so close to losing you.”

She’d fallen asleep instantly after that, a smile on her face, and he hadn’t been able to resist hugging her tight, as though afraid she might slip away during the night. It hadn’t been the first time Dante had shuddered at the realization of exactly how close he’d come to losing her, of how much worse things could have turned out if an alert neighbor hadn’t called 911 so promptly and caused the muggers to run off.

But she was here with him now, he’d acknowledged with relief, and safe and warm in his arms - a place where she would fall asleep every night from here on end if he had his way.

“You’re positive I look okay?” fretted Cara as he pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. “That this dress was the right choice?”

“Yes.” He parked the car, then reached over and gave her a quick kiss. “To both questions. And my mother and brother told you the exact same thing, so believe it, okay? You look beautiful, Cara. And I can’t wait to show you off to the rest of my family. Let’s go in now, okay?”

Dante had suspected that Cara would have any number of doubts and insecurities about meeting all of his family today, so he’d gone out and bought her several new outfits for this weekend - including the simple but stunning midnight blue wrap-front dress she was wearing now. She had protested mightily, of course, when she’d discovered the half dozen shopping bags he had brought home for her, the ones that had contained not just dresses but skirts, jeans, trousers, blouses, sweaters, shoes, lingerie, and the black cashmere overcoat she was currently belting around her waist. But after a good-natured argument, Cara had finally relented and thanked him profusely for all of the beautiful things. Dante hadn’t dared break the news to her just yet that these few bags were merely the tip of the iceberg of all the things he planned to buy her.

As he helped her remove the coat once inside the restaurant, he gave her one more lookover and smiled in satisfaction. Cara had fretted that this dress was too low-cut, or made her look too old, or, worse - made her butt look too big. He’d assured her multiple times that the dress was perfect for the occasion - not too dressy nor too casual, and that it shrieked class. What he hadn’t told her - quite intentionally - was that the silky fabric also molded itself to her lush breasts, and emphasized her small waist. The rich blue color was a good one for her, lending her youthful complexion a healthy glow, and complimenting the rich fall of her lustrous, dark hair. There was no disguising the fact that she was young - probably too young for him, most of his family would whisper - but Cara also looked every bit like a woman. A woman that he was exceptionally proud to usher inside the big, noisy banquet room where more than fifty people had already gathered.

Dante snagged both of them a glass of red wine from a waiter whom he’d known for twenty years, then touched his glass to hers.

“Here goes nothing,” he told her with a wink. “Too late to back out of this now, honey. The horde is already descending on us.”

For the next twenty minutes or so, he introduced Cara to every aunt, uncle, cousin, in-law, family friend, and neighbor who approached, making sure that she didn’t look overwhelmed or close to tears as a result. But then he realized that he shouldn’t have worried for even a minute, because Cara was quite obviously having the time of her life. She was by nature a friendly, outgoing person, so it was no surprise when she wound up charming everyone she met.

But there was still one person - one very, very important person - that Cara had yet to be presented to, though Dante knew his grandmother had for certain been keeping an extremely close eye on her grandson’s new girlfriend. He took Cara by the hand, pulling her along in his wake as one of his aunts would have kept chatting with her for the next hour if he had allowed it.

“Come on. It’ll be time soon to sit down for the meal, and I’m guessing Nonna is getting awfully impatient to meet you. Ah, there she is, in her usual spot, of course. Just like a queen. Which, by the way, she tends to act like most of the time. Not a queen exactly, but there’s not a single person in this room who doesn’t know she rules this family.”

Cara gulped, looking helplessly at her empty wine glass. “Do I have time to chug-a-lug another glass?” she whispered. “One wasn’t nearly enough to prepare me for this.”

Dante shook his head, grinning as he placed a hand at the small of her back. “It’s going to be fine,” he whispered. “I promise.”

He steered a hesitant Cara over to where Valentina Sabattini was holding court - seated in a high-backed chair in a spot where she could easily view all of the goings-on in the banquet room. She was as flawlessly groomed as ever, despite her advanced years - her snowy white hair impeccably coiffed, her makeup and nails perfect, with gold jewelry sparkling at her ears, throat, and wrists. She was even wearing purple - the color of royalty - though Dante supposed the wool dress was really more of a plum shade.

And her sharp, observant eyes were fixed directly on him at the moment as he made his way to greet her - or, more accurately, on the young, slightly terrified woman he was half-guiding, half-pushing forward.

“Hello, Nonna,” he told her warmly, bending down to kiss her proffered cheek. “You look beautiful as always. And I have someone I’d like you to meet.” He gave Cara a little nudge and she slowly took a couple of steps forward. “Nonna, this is Cara Bregante. Cara, meet my grandmother, the owner of this restaurant and the head of the family - Valentina Sabattini.”

Valentina, who’d been unsmiling up until now, perked up a bit when she heard Cara’s last name. “Bregante?” she repeated. “È lei italiana?”

Dante nodded. “Si. Cara is half-Italian, Nonna.”

Valentina looked at Cara expectantly, no doubt well aware that she was scaring the bejesus out of her, then extended her beringed hand. Cara, to her credit, gave his grandmother her biggest and brightest smile before taking Valentina’s hand in her own.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Signora Sabattini. Thank you so much for having me here today. Dante has told me many times about what wonderful food you serve, so I’m looking forward to trying it.”

Cara’s words were clear and steady - and had been delivered in perfectly pronounced Italian. He recalled some mention she’d made recently of having studied the language in high school, and lamenting that she would really need to brush up on her skills prior to meeting his family. Somehow, she’d found time to do a good deal of brushing up over the past few days.

Valentina did something that she seldom did nowadays - smile. And not just any smile, mind you, but one that rivaled Cara’s in size and brilliance. The old woman was obviously delighted, evidenced by the way she clutched Cara’s hand tightly. In Italian, she told Cara that the pleasure was all hers to meet her grandson’s new friend, and that she guaranteed Cara would have the best meal of her life today.

Cara nodded in agreement, seeming to understand everything Valentina had just said. But then his grandmother turned to him, speaking in such rapid-fire Italian that even he had to focus to understand. He merely grinned at her in return, then nodded and pressed another small kiss to her cheek.

It was time then to sit down for what was to be a late lunch/early dinner, so he guided Cara to where their assigned seats were. She tugged anxiously at his coat sleeve as they walked over to their table.

“What exactly did your grandmother just tell you?” she whispered urgently. “I got about ten words out of the whole dialog, none of which made any sense to me.”

Dante slipped an arm about her waist, giving her an affectionate little squeeze. “What she said,” he told her with a wink, “was that I had finally brought home a girl she could approve of. And that if I ever dared to let you out of my sight, she would personally find both her heaviest cast iron skillet and her biggest carving knife and use both of them on me until I came to my senses.”

Cara cupped his cheek tenderly. “Well, guess you’d better listen to your Nonna then, hadn’t you?” she teased. “After all, she seems like a very wise woman to give you that sort of advice.”

He gave her a quick kiss, ignoring the interested stares they were bound to be receiving from his nosy family members. “The best advice she ever gave me,” he agreed. “Oh, and before I forget. She also wants to know what your favorite colors are. You know, so that she can start buying sheets and towels for your hope chest.”