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"You chose the pink dress," I remark casually.
"Would you prefer I wore one of the others? I can go and change."
"The pink one will do fine." I shrug, nonchalantly. "Let's get going."
Holding the front door open I gesture for her to walk out. She steps around me and walks towards the car. My eyes are on her like a moth drawn to a flame.
The dress hugs her body, flowing over her hips, and caressing her curves.
My body begins to heat with desire. I clear my throat loudly, forcing myself to look away, anywhere but at her ass and the curve of her back.
The driver steps forward to open the door for her and she climbs inside, bending over to slide onto the seat.
Fuck. Get yourself under control, Stefano.
I slide onto the seat alongside her and our legs are touching.
The drive to the opera is quiet, and both of us seem tense. My tension is rising from how sexy she looks, and the way the entire car is filled with her scent.
Her tension - I can't be sure. She's very closed off and cold.
But as soon as the driver opens the door for us outside the opera house that all changes. In an instant.
I don't know what I was expecting from her when I informed her that she had to behave like a proper fiancée - but I was not expecting this.
I climb out of the car first, then turn to offer her my hand. She smiles the most beautiful, wide, and genuine smile that lights up her entire face as she gently places her hand in mine.
Then she steps out of the car and slips her arm around my waist as the media snaps photos of us.
She leans against me, then stares up at me as though I am the most loved person in the world. At first, I admit, I am confused. It feels so real. The look in her eyes is exactly the same as in the past - when she used to love me.
But the voice in the back of my head keeps reminding me - she's acting. She's faking it to earn the incentive.
She's fucking good at this.
We walk into the opera hand in hand. She laughs musically and leans against me whenever we stop to talk to someone. She intertwines her fingers with mine and rubs her thumb over the back of my hand like a secret caress. Attention to the details.
My smile is genuine.
She is pulling at my heart, taunting the edges of my reality.
I want this to be real.
I want her back. The girl I knew in the past. The one that loved me.
But that girl left me.
So do I really want her back?
She found out she was pregnant, and she ran from me.
Was I that much of a monster that she felt she needed to escape?
"Ah, the happy couple. When you told me you were bringing your fiancée, I have to say I was shocked. I couldn't wait to meet her. What kind of a woman steals the heart of a man like Stefano Amalfi?"
My client is grinning at both of us, his eyes tracing up and down Amelia. Heated jealousy fires through me. But can I blame him for looking at her that way?
"Sergio, this is my fiancée, Amelia. Amelia, Sergio is the one who invited us here tonight."
