Sicilian's Christmas Bride by Sandra Marton

Author:Sandra Marton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2006-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

DID HE REALLY THINK she’d live in his apartment?

Not even if the alternative was a tent pitched in the Millers’ backyard.

Tally let Dante’s driver take her to Central Park West but only because she had to go there if she wanted to reclaim her luggage.

She’d get it, write the imperious Mr. Russo a note telling him, in exquisite detail, what he could do with his contract, phone for a taxi and leave. No. This time, she’d face him. She would not forgo that pleasure.

The driver was new but the doorman was the same as in the past. He greeted her by name, as if three long years had not gone by since her last visit. So did the housekeeper, who added that it was good to see her again.

“This way, miss,” she said pleasantly, gesturing not to the library or the dining room or the sitting room, all the places—the only places—Tally had seen when she and Dante had been involved, but to the graceful, winding staircase.

“Thank you,” Tally said, “but I’ll wait for Mr. Russo in the library. If someone would just bring me my suitcase…?”

“Your things are already upstairs, miss. I’ll show you to your rooms.”

Arguing seemed pointless. Her quarrel was with Dante, not with his staff. She followed the housekeeper to a door that led into a sitting room as large as her entire house back in Vermont.

“Would you like some tea, miss?”

What she’d have liked was some strychnine for her host, but Tally managed a polite smile.

“Nothing, thank you.”

“Ellen’s unpacked your things. If you’re not pleased with how she’s arranged your clothes, just ring.”

But I’m not staying, Tally started to say, except, by then the housekeeper had disappeared.

Dante wasn’t just arrogant, he was presumptuous. She could hardly wait to see him and tell him so, but where was he? And when was the last train to Shelby? Eight? Nine? She intended to be on it. No way could she afford a night in a hotel now that her prospective job had turned out to be a farce.

Tally took out her cell phone and dialed Sheryl to see how Sam was and to tell her that the plans that had seemed so magical had fallen apart, but there was no answer. What a time to be reminded that cell service in Shelby wasn’t always what you hoped.

Was nothing going to go right today?

Twenty minutes passed. Thirty. Tally frowned. Paced the sitting room. Checked her watch again. Damn it, she didn’t have time for this! She’d wait another half hour, then give up the pleasure of confronting Mr. Russo and his monumental ego.

Getting on that train, getting back to Sam and the real world, was more important. In fact, why was she wasting time waiting for Dante when she could be packing? She didn’t need a maid to toss things into a suitcase.

Chin lifted, Tally marched through the sitting room, though a light-filled bedroom, to a door she assumed led to a closet…

Her breath caught.

The door didn’t open on a closet.

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