by Dani Collins
‘They will guess...’ Ariana started.
‘Stop worrying about them,’ Gian said, and for a little while she did. Her family all danced with their various partners and she danced with a man who was always there for her. There was something so freeing about Gian’s acceptance of her, and the way he lived life on his terms. It was something she was starting to embrace herself and so she wrapped her arms around his neck and told him a little of her new world. ‘I’ve told my lazy doorman that he’s not allowed to let guests up without my permission, not even my mother, and I shall petition the other residents to have him removed if he doesn’t improve.’
‘Good for you.’
‘And I have an interview next week with your rival company. I used my mother’s maiden name, so I know I got the interview on my own merit.’
‘Very good,’ Gian said.
‘And I will never give up on love.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it.’ He was serious suddenly. ‘Can we go outside?’
‘It will cause too much gossip and rumour...’
‘I don’t care.’
‘Well, I do,’ Ariana said. ‘I’m not leaving Stefano’s wedding to make out with you.’
‘That is a revolting term,’ Gian told her, ‘but fair enough.’ For though he was desperate to speak with her, she was right not to leave during her brother’s wedding reception. ‘Will you come over to La Fiordelise afterwards?’ Gian asked.
‘No...’ she said slowly. Her reply was tentative, but with practice she would perfect it, Ariana decided. ‘No.’ She said it more clearly this time.
No. No. No.
Easy as pie.
‘Come to me tonight.’
They were still cheek to cheek, though the music had ended, yet they carried on dancing. She could feel herself weakening at his touch. ‘No,’ she told him as he reached into his inner pocket and slipped a cold thin card where the ruffle of her dress parted. It was all discreetly done, yet Ariana knew she should have slapped him there and then, but lust moved faster than anger where Gian De Luca was concerned. It took a moment for her to form the proper reply. ‘Leave me alone, Gian.’
‘I can’t.’
‘Ariana!’ Her mamma was laughing and calling her over. ‘Gian!’ In fact, she was calling them both, for the music had restarted and upped its tempo and the bride and groom were about to be waved off into the night.
It was loud, it was fun, and it was over.
Stefano and Eloa were officially married and it was kisses and final drinks and then they all spilled out of the venue into the square. She was so happy for Stefano and Eloa, especially now the air had been cleared between her and her twin.
And happy for Mia and Dante too, Ariana thought as she watched them walk hand in hand into the night.
If it was possible to be lonely and happy at the same time, then she was lonely and happy for herself too, for Gian had already gone.
She wanted not just to be part of a couple, but she wanted to be part of that couple with Gian.
Walking hand in hand in public, kissing without secrets, in love for all to see.
The square had never looked more beautiful. There was a carousel all lit up and the stunning fountains were gushing and spouting. It was a special place indeed, where they had eaten hot chestnuts on the night she’d said farewell to her father, and where she now stood so confused and so wanting to go into La Fiordelise if it meant another night with the man she loved.
She would always want him.
That was a given.
If, somehow, forty years from now, they were here at Stefano and Eloa’s ruby wedding celebration, there would still be a longing and an ache for what could have been. If learning the truth about her family had taught her anything, it was that regrets were such a waste of a life. She didn’t want to have any regrets when it came to Gian.
She would start saying no on Monday.
Not caring if she was found out, Ariana slipped away and found herself in the reception area of La Fiordelise, heading straight for his bed and the bliss he would temporarily give.
Life was better with Gian in it than not.
Yes, she was turning into Fiordelise, Ariana decided as she took the elevator up.
He opened the door and, before she fell into his arms, she stated her case. ‘There will be rules,’ Ariana said.
If she was to be his mistress then there would be rules and she would be the one making them.
‘We shall discuss them,’ Gian agreed.
‘If you cheat on me, you die.’
He laughed. ‘I’m saving you from prison then. I never cheat.’
‘Liar.’
‘Never. Even at your interview when I wanted to kiss you but Svetlana—’
‘Stop!’ She halted him. ‘Don’t ever try to redeem yourself with another woman’s name.’ She was way too needy to ignore it though. ‘You wanted to kiss me then?’
‘All over,’ he told her. ‘Come, there’s something I want to show you...’
Down his hallway they went and she smiled when she saw there were pictures of Gian. ‘When did you do this?’ she asked.
‘Tonight. The maintenance man has been busy.’
‘Oh, Gian.’ Her eyes were shining and happy to see his childhood finally featured on the wall, but then her smile died. ‘What the hell is this doing here?’ It was the most appalling, awkward photo of her at her first Romano Ball. She had been tempted to tear it up, but had decided it wasn’t just her memory to delete.
‘No!’ She was appalled. ‘That photo was for your eyes only, I look terrible!’
‘You do and, believe me, your mother had nothing to worry about then... It was here that things started to change for me...’
Her breath stopped, as there she was, in a silver dress, standing next to Gian, in an informal shot of a night that had been more difficult than the picture revealed.
It was the first Romano Ball without her papà. He had been a last-minute withdrawal due to a deterioration in his health. On the one hand, she had been relieved that she wouldn’t have to see him with Mia.
On the other hand, it had meant her papà was getting worse.
Gian had steered her through it, though. He always did.
He had held her in those wooden arms and told her that she was doing well, and it had meant the world.
‘I think,’ Gian said, ‘well, I know, that for me things changed that night...’ She swallowed as he went on. ‘You were right. I easily remembered what you were wearing, for my eyes barely left you that night, and I think things changed for you too, Ariana. You didn’t come by my office so much after that...’
‘No...’ She flushed as she admitted to herself something that for so long she had denied. ‘I have liked you for a lot longer than you realise, than even I dared admit.’
‘Come,’ he said, ‘I have something for you.’
Of course that something was in the direction of the bedroom, and as they walked there, she said, ‘I’ll make a terrible mistress, Gian. I talk too much, I’m not very discreet...’ But then her voice trailed off for there on the bed lay everything she had once thought she wanted: a blush tartan suit, a silk cowl-necked cami, a string of pearls and even a little wallet for her business cards.
‘Gian...’ She wanted to weep, for he made her so weak.
This time when he unzipped the back of her dress, his fingers lingered and she closed her eyes as he peeled it off and slowly kissed her shoulder.
‘Turn around,’ he said in that voice that made her shiver. She was a little bewildered and a lot in lust as she complied.
He undressed and then dressed her.
She lifted her arms as he slid on the silk cami, and she lifted her feet as he negotiated the little kilt. The only resistance was in her jaw as he put on the jacket, for it was everything she had wa
nted, and yet Ariana knew she deserved more.
He dressed her neck in a string of pearls and she closed her eyes as he secured the clasp, then turned her around and knelt as he dressed her feet in the gorgeous neutral stilettoes that his guest managers wore. ‘We can’t work together, Gian.’
‘We can.’
‘No, because I’m not going to spend my career worrying about when my time will be up...’
‘It will never be up.’
But Ariana had too much to say to stop and listen. ‘I don’t want to be hidden away, and I don’t want hide my love.’
‘You won’t be hidden away,’ Gian said. ‘And you don’t have to hide a single thing.’
‘It would be unprofessional,’ Ariana insisted, ‘to be sleeping with a member of your staff.’
‘I think it would be perfectly reasonable for the owner to love his wife, who just happens to be a guest services manager.’
She swallowed and then corrected him. ‘VIP Guest Services Manager.’
‘Absolutely.’ He smiled. ‘Ariana, Duchess of Luctano, VIP Guest Services Manager...’
‘Stop.’
‘Well, we might leave off the title on your business card...’ He looked at her frowning face. ‘I’m asking you to marry me.’
‘Please, stop,’ Ariana said, for she did not want him playing games with her heart.
‘No,’ Gian said, and from the bedside drawer he took out a box she recognised. ‘I don’t want to stop, and I don’t want my lineage to end. I want ours to be a different legacy...’
She looked at the most beautiful ring, in shades of pomegranate, and it was so unexpected, but not as unexpected as what he said next. ‘When you walked into my office yesterday, I thought it was to tell me you were pregnant...’
‘Gosh, no.’
‘I think I wanted you to be.’
Her world went still as that black heart cracked open and revealed all the shining hope for their future inside.
‘I don’t want to be like that old fool who left it too late,’ Gian said. ‘I want the woman I love by my side. I love you,’ Gian clarified, and she felt the blood pump in every chamber of her heart as it filled with his words. ‘You are the most important person in my day.’
It was the one thing Ariana had wanted her whole life—to be the centre of someone’s world, to be wanted, to be cherished, for exactly who she was.
‘Ariana,’ Gian said, ‘you are the love of my life. Will you be my wife?’
Her answer was a sequence of squeaks, a ‘Yes,’ followed by ‘Please,’ as an ancient ring slid onto a slender finger, and because it was Ariana, she took a generous moment to properly admire it. ‘I love it,’ she said, and he watched massive pupils crowd the violet in her eyes. He adored her absolute passion for his ring. ‘You would never have sold it...’ She scolded the very thought.
‘No,’ he said, ‘it belongs with me, as do you.’ He was silenced by her kiss, a kiss that held nothing back but showered him in frantic love. Another ‘I do, I do,’ she said, and then followed that with another needy, necessary question. ‘When?’ she asked. ‘When can we marry?’
‘Soon,’ Gian said, and got back to kissing her, but Ariana had something else on her mind.
‘And can we have...?’
‘You can have the Basilica, if you want it,’ Gian said.
‘No,’ Ariana said, ‘can we have tutti-frutti and salted chestnut ice cream for dessert...?’
He laughed. ‘Trust you to have chosen the dessert by the end of the proposal.’ And then he kissed her to oblivion, and behind closed doors he took his newly appointed guest services manager and made love to her as the Very Important Person she was.
To him.
For life.
EPILOGUE
‘YOU HAVE ANOTHER phone call.’ Gian gently shook a sleeping Ariana’s shoulder. ‘Stefano,’ Gian added, watching her eyes force themselves open, knowing she could never not take a call from her twin.
And certainly not on an important day such as this.
‘Stai bene?’ Stefano urgently asked if she was okay.
‘Of course.’ Ariana smiled sleepily as she sat herself up in bed. ‘We are doing wonderfully.’
‘Have you decided on a name for her?’ Stefano asked.
‘We are waiting until you arrive to announce the name,’ Ariana said. ‘I want us all to be together when we do.’
Eloa and Stefano and little George were in Brazil and soon to board a flight to Florence. Dante, Mia and the twins would fly in with their mother and Thomas tomorrow, and all would meet the newest member of the family. But, tired from an exhausting day, Ariana was grateful that for now it was just the three of them.
‘How is Stefano?’ Gian asked when she ended the call.
‘Excited to meet her,’ Ariana said, gazing over to the little crib that held their sleeping daughter.
She was so beautiful, with dark hair and a little red face, and tiny hands with long delicate fingers.
They were both aching for her to wake up just to look into those gorgeous blue eyes again and hear her tiny cry.
‘I wish Papà had got to see her,’ Ariana said. Her father was the only part of her heart that was missing. ‘I wish he had known about us.’ She would get used to it, of course, but she couldn’t help but think how happy he would be today. ‘I am glad we had her in Florence,’ Ariana said. ‘I feel closer to him here.’
‘I know you do.’
La Fiordelise Rome was no longer where Gian resided. For the first time he had a home—a real one—a luxurious villa just a little way out of Florence, with a gorgeous view of the river.
This morning, as labour had started, Ariana had stood on the terrace, taking in the morning, the pink sky, and the lights starting to go off in the city they both loved and thinking what a beautiful day this was for their baby to be born.
And now she was here and it was right to have a little cry and to miss her papà.
‘I have something for you,’ Gian said, and he went into his pocket and pulled out a long, slim box. But instead of handing it to her, he opened it and took the slender chain out and held up the pendant for her to see.
She smiled as he brought it closer, but she didn’t immediately recognise what it was.
‘Gian?’ she questioned as she examined the swirl of rose gold and saw that instead of an F for Fiordelise, there was an A, sparkling in diamonds. ‘It’s beautiful, but...’
‘Take a look,’ Gian said, and he pulled back the heavy drapes that blocked out the world and the city skyline. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the sight of La Fiordelise Florence, for it was lit up in the softest pink.
And there was something else different.
The elegant signage had been changed. Oh, there was still the familiar rose gold swirl, but like her pendant the letter in the centre was now an A.
‘The hotel has had a name change,’ Gian said. ‘It is now Duchessa Ariana.’
‘But...’ She was overwhelmed, stunned actually, that this private man would share their love with the world.
‘I’ve been planning it for months,’ Gian said. ‘Even the letterhead has all changed. The last time I saw your father, like you, he told me I could do better with the hotel names and, like me, he thought your name should be in lights. I think he knew the way the wind was blowing, perhaps even before we did.’
She liked that thought so very much, and then, better than any insignia, came the sweetest sight of all: their daughter stretching her little arms out of the swaddle of linen. They both smiled at the little squeaking noise she made.
Gian clearly wasn’t going to wait for her to cry.
‘Hey, Violetta,’ he said, and gently lifted her from the crib.
They had named her after her great-great-grandmother, the forgotten Duchess, somehow lost in all the tales of Fi
ordelise.
Well, she was forgotten no more.
Violetta’s restored picture was mounted on the gallery wall of their home in Rome, and soon it would be joined by her namesake’s first photo.
Ariana buried her face in her daughter’s and breathed in that sweet baby scent, and then lifted her head and gazed down at her.
‘I cannot believe how much I know her already,’ Ariana said, playing with her tiny fingers, ‘and at the very same time I cannot wait to get to know her more...’
That was, Gian thought as he looked at his wife, a rather perfect description of his love.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781488073342
The Italian’s Forbidden Virgin
Copyright © 2021 by Carol Marinelli
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
