by Robena Grant
“You said you wished I could be here. Consider that wish granted.”
Chapter Fifteen
Rome was behind them. Wonderful days filled with fabulous food sites and lovemaking at all times of the day and night. Carlo hadn’t complained once about her visits to museums and galleries. Dia dozed off and on while Carlo drove. She thought about the gazillion photographs she’d taken that she could share with her students. She’d kept two journals on her laptop. One dealt with her deepening feelings for Carlo, the other a documentation of everywhere she’d visited, and what she’d seen. That one she would use for her history classes. She opened her eyes, stretched, and yawned noisily.
“Good sleep?” Carlo patted her knee.
“Yeah. I was thinking about Rome and wondering if you could ever know it all. Every time I visit, I learn something new.”
“Me too. It’s a fascinating city.” Carlo changed lanes but not before shooting her a loving smile. “I really enjoyed tagging along with you. But look what is up ahead.”
The old capital of Tuscany, Firenze to Italians, Florence to most Americans, had come into view. They’d have this afternoon and tomorrow morning to explore before heading to Montecatini Terme. She wriggled her shoulders thinking of how great a massage would be after a long soak in the mineral waters at the spa.
Sadness hit like a punch to the stomach. Carlo would be leaving soon. She pushed away the sadness. They still had a few days together. He’d fly home on Monday evening and Susan would fly in on Tuesday morning. She peeked at his profile.
Such a sweet man. He’d come all this way for less than a week’s stay. He didn’t want to stay longer because he wanted to be at home to help his parents take care of Angie.
****
That afternoon, Dia and Carlo spent a couple of hours strolling the Ponte Vecchio looking at the jewelry vendor’s displays. She didn’t buy anything; there was nothing she needed, and Mama wouldn’t want jewelry. With Carlo’s bracelet encircling her wrist, nothing she looked at came even close to that anyway.
“Let me buy you something. Some small memento of our time together.” Carlo picked up a pair of dangly earrings.
Dia shook her head and laughed. She’d never wear those. Way too showy. “No. I have this.” She raised her arm and jiggled the bracelet.
Disappointed, he put the earrings back and shrugged at the vendor. Dia loved Florence, the easy accessibility to everything. She snapped numerous photos of the gorgeous and varied architecture. Of course they’d already taken a photo of the famous statue of David. She had so many photos of Carlo that he’d started to roll his eyes every time he caught her aiming a camera at him.
“I want to buy some of these postcards,” she said, twirling a stand at the front of a souvenir shop.
He frowned. “What for?”
“I want pictures of the places we won’t get to visit. They’re great for the students.” She shrugged. “We might make a collage.”
Would they ever come back here? Would what they had now, continue? It was too perfect, too, too much. The feelings frightened her, not for how she felt now, but for later when they would be snatched away. Because they always were snatched away, she knew that. His family didn’t approve of her, and that had to mean a lot to a loyal person like Carlo. She wouldn’t come between them. She wouldn’t make him choose. But how could she let him go? Tears threatened. She hurried inside the store to pay for the postcards.
From Susan’s email yesterday, one Dia deleted while Carlo slept, she’d learned that his mother had been livid about his decision to follow her. They had argued, but Susan said her mother had calmed down since.
Back outside the store, she glanced around. Carlo leaned against the building, happily watching the tourists. Holding a bag filled with postcards, Dia linked her arm through his. “Want to go back to the hotel?”
****
The following day, Dia awoke to another gorgeous sun-filled morning. She slipped out of bed to freshen up. Flat on his back, Carlo raised one arm across his eyes, still asleep. She smiled as his chest rose and fell in deep, slow breaths. When she came back to bed and slid beneath the sheets she snuggled against him.
“What?” he asked, but kept his eyes closed.
“Oh, just wondering if I could have my way with you.”
He laughed and pulled her close. “Go right ahead.”
Dia pushed him back against the pillows and sat astride him. She leaned forward, brushing his chest hair with her breasts, loving the feelings that tingled and tightened her nipples. Tiny tremors shot through her abdomen. She was wet and ready in seconds.
Carlo groaned. “You’re killing me.”
“But softly,” she whispered and laughed.
She tugged gently on his lower lip, sucking and teasing. Guiding him inside her, lowering on his firmness, taking all of him inside her, she sighed at the exquisite pleasure. Pinning his shoulders with her hands she moved slowly, sensually. After a bit Dia increased the tempo making them both frenzied and glassy-eyed.
“Enough.” He flipped her onto her back. “Hell, geez…we forgot. I need a condom.” He reached for the side table, found one and quickly sheathed himself. He sank into her again and took her to the top of the mountain, down the other side, and back up again. They lay in the tangle of sheets, catching their breath and grinning at each other like they were the only people in the world who’d ever climaxed at the same moment.
Carlo splayed out on his back again and closed his eyes. He pulled her up tight to his side, his hand tracing her spine, light as a feather. “You okay, bellisima?”
“Fine.” Dia blinked at the sudden happiness that felt almost like pain. “Just gonna catch forty winks.”
“Okay.” He continued with the light stroking of his fingertips.
Love. That was the feeling that had washed over her. There, she’d admitted it at least to herself, and while she’d toyed with the concept before, it hadn’t been until now, this morning, that it had become a reality. She’d never felt this depth of feeling before. But it had hit fast. So much had happened in the last couple of weeks. “We need to get going,” he murmured. “Want first shower?”
“It’s all yours.” She pulled up the sheet. Was this a dalliance for him, a nice summer fling in a European city? Carlo went into the bathroom. Minutes later the shower turned on.
She squeezed her eyes tight, her body shaking from holding in the sobs she wanted to release. She refused to cry. Why should admitting you loved someone make you cry anyway? Dammit. What is wrong with me?
She slipped on a hotel robe and walked out onto the balcony. The fresh morning air calmed her and by the time Carlo joined her, she was in a better place. He stood behind her, his chin resting on top of her head, and wrapped both hands around her waist drawing her back to nestle against him. “Breakfast?” he asked.
“Give me ten minutes in the bathroom.” Her voice was thick with emotion. She moved to leave, but he pulled her tight again.
“Shall we go to the restaurant?” he asked.
She kissed his mouth. “Sure. Now let me go because I need to shower, and I’m starving.”
He kissed her with a long lingering sweetness that filled her with such a rush of tenderness and love that she almost cried out. She eased away and hurried to the bathroom, almost stumbling over her own feet.
Underneath the steady stream of water, she shampooed her hair and let the tears flow. She hugged her body, standing there shaking, quietly crying. She would not rush this. She refused to talk about her feelings with him. Later, maybe when they were back in San Diego they could discuss what all this meant. Figure out where it might be leading. They had one more day and night together, and Dia wanted nothing to take away from that. She knew her eyes were red when she came back into the room.
“Are you okay?” Carlo squinted up at her from where he sat on the edge of the bed, the TV remote gripped in one hand. He still wore his hotel robe.
“Ugh.” She blinked hard, stretchi
ng her eyes wide. “I got shampoo in my eyes. Do you have any eye drops?”
He waved the remote around, not taking his eyes from her face. “Sure, in that black zippered bag in the bathroom. Help yourself.”
There was a knock on the door. Dia tightened the belt on her robe.
“Oh, don’t get dressed.” Carlo headed for the door. “I figured we should order room service instead.”
Dia slipped back into the bathroom. She really did want those eye drops. When she came back out a table had been set up with their breakfast; the room attendant had left.
“Sit. Sit. Can I pour you some coffee?” Carlo held up the silver coffeepot.
“Thank you.” Dia sat. Carlo knew she’d been crying, and he deserved some kind of explanation. “I’m so sad. It’s Sunday already. We only have one day left.”
He put the coffeepot on the table, placed both hands on her cheeks, and kissed her mouth. “There will be many wonderful times for us. In one week you’ll be home.” He dropped another kiss on her forehead. “Eat your breakfast before it gets cold. We’ve got a long day ahead if I recall your plans.”
Dia smiled, although her eyes watered. She blinked hard and reached for her glass of orange juice. “Art galleries and museums.” She laughed. “Well, just one.”
Carlo rolled his eyes and went to work devouring his food.
****
They checked out of the hotel, and put their luggage in the car. There was one stop to make before getting on the road. Dia could hardly wait.
At the Uffizi, she gazed at some of the most beautiful art she’d ever seen.
There wasn’t time to view everything so she hit the highlights. Five minutes later, she stood, enthralled before the canvas of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. Her chest seemed to expand as she felt herself coming back to life and love with a sense of her own rebirth. It was a strange thought, almost a spiritual experience. She reached out as if to touch that beautiful female form, but quickly pulled her hand back. A chill washed over her, and hot tears spiked behind her eyelids.
Damn. Get a grip. She hurried to the women’s restroom, patted her face with cold water, and repaired the damage to her eye makeup. Fortunately, she had sunglasses. There was nothing else she wanted to see. Nothing could compare to Venus.
Outside in the bright noonday sun, she felt somehow larger, and yet smaller, from the experience. How humbling to stand before such greatness. She looked around, still in a bit of a daze. Carlo had begged off today. He’d said he was done with art and that he’d meet her here. She wondered if he would have understood what overwhelmed her.
She bought a gelato for herself and a bottle of water for each of them.
The sun, the tourists, and the hustle and bustle soon calmed her.
“Hi, sweetie, I’m so sorry I’m late.” Carlo sprinted toward her. He bent forward, and took in a few breaths. “Have you been waiting long?”
“No. Here…here’s some water.” She handed him the bottle and watched him guzzle it.
“Thanks. I needed that. I went to find a gift for Angie and lost track of time. Look at this.” He took a package from his pocket, his face full of pride. He dangled a necklace on his finger.
Dia lifted the medallion and laughed. “Cinderella.”
“Yeah, and I think it’s even prettier than anything I’ve seen at Disneyland.” He laughed. “To think I had to come all the way to Florence to find it.”
“She’s going to love it.” Dia handed the necklace back to him. “Let’s get on the road…unless you’re hungry.”
“We’ll find somewhere along the way to stop.”
Half an hour later, they were in the car and headed for Montecatini Terme. True to his word, Carlo found the perfect place. They stopped at a little trattoria and ordered tosta, a toasted sandwich of ham and cheese. They drank vino and sat outside in the garden soaking up the afternoon sun, so simple, and yet so perfect. And as if both of them had centered their thoughts on how little time they had left together, they lingered way too long.
While she loved traveling alone, being able to do what she wanted to do when she wanted, there were so many times on this trip when she’d given thanks for having someone with whom to share the experiences. It was an unfamiliar feeling for her. The more she thought about her past relationship with Jason, the more she realized that it had been doomed from the very beginning. They had shared very little.
****
The following morning, Dia stuck her head in the open window of Carlo’s rental car.
He looked as sad as she felt. She kissed him hard several times before stepping back onto the pavement and waving goodbye. He had to drive to Rome. No sense in getting weepy and upsetting each other.
“See you back home,” she said, cheerfully.
He smiled. “Have fun. See you next week.”
He turned on the blinker and eased out into the steady flow of traffic. It felt like an ending. Dia shivered. It was. It was the end of their vacation, that was all. She wrapped her arms around herself. Would he forget her? Would he let his mother interfere in this beautiful beginning of what was the best relationship she’d ever known?
Carlo’s rental car turned the corner. An arm thrust out the window in a final wave. Her eyes blurred, but she waved furiously. She blinked hard several times knowing she had to shake off the tears. There was another journey to make. Tomorrow she had to drive to Pisa airport to pick up Susan.
Chapter Sixteen
“Do you think we’ll recognize Nico?” Susan asked as they walked into the office of the car rental agency in Livorno.
Dia thought about that for a moment. “Sure. I think.” She didn’t have a photograph but had a description from Frank. Nico had emailed where to meet, and said he’d be wearing a black tee-shirt and blue jeans.
“I’ve seen Nico’s photo on Facebook.”
Dia shot her a quick glance.
“Unless it wasn’t really him,” Susan said softly. “He could have just posted gorgeous photos of some buff Italian male model.”
Well, for sure then. They’d find him.
“Umm, most of the shots were of…well, a bare torso, and taken on the beach or the boat.”
“So he’s cut…really buff and suntanned?”
Susan nodded and rubbed her lips together. She looked nervous.
“Well, come on, spill.” Dia laughed.
“He wore mostly bathing trunks, not Speedos,” Susan said. “And sunglasses. Sunbathing on the deck, or wearing shorts and no shirt.”
“Were there any pictures of the villa on his page?”
“No, but I think that’s because he adores boating.”
Dia shot Susan another quick glance, but she was busy rummaging in her purse.
“Gum?” she asked when she finally lifted her head. She offered a pack.
“No, thanks.”
They’d be meeting Nico when he was fully dressed, she hoped. But he’d still look the same, even with a shirt on. Susan had gone quiet, gnawing at a fingernail. Maybe she was thinking about those sexy photos.
“He called me every day, sometimes twice.”
“Who?”
“Nico.” Susan glanced out the window. There was nothing to see but rows of rental vehicles. She seemed to be concentrating hard. “We had some great conversations.”
“Oh. Well…that’s great. So it won’t be so bad then. Not like being total strangers or anything.”
“Absolutely.”
“ Did you mention this to Carlo?”
“No!” Susan inhaled. “But I…well, I did mention it to Mother.”
Dia frowned, tilted her head. That is interesting. So Mama Antonelli had no objection to her daughter conversing with a potential stranger? Dia removed her credit card from her wallet, wondering if more than a friendship had formed between Nico and Susan. Not that it was any of her business. What would Carlo think about that?
Anyway, no need to jump to conclusions. It’s probably nothing.
She hand
ed the clerk her credit card. Susan sat on a bench near the door. Dia paid, made all the right comments about the vehicle to the cashier, grabbed the paperwork, and hurried across the small room.
“Let’s go straight to the docks. We’re early, but I have the feeling Nico will be too.”
“I had the same feeling.” Susan’s face lit up like a Christmas tree with a thousand twinkling lights. She jumped up from the seat and readjusted her purse.
Uh-oh. “You must be tired and a bit jet-lagged,” Dia said. “Even if we have to wait a while, you can take a nap on a bench. Besides, we have our luggage. Even though the suitcases are on wheels, it would be a pain in the butt to drag them all over town.”
Susan laughed. “I’m too excited to be tired. Plus, I slept on the leg from London to Pisa.” She pushed open the door; they walked out into the balmy mid-morning air heading toward the nearest traffic light. “I wish we’d had time to explore.”
Dia nodded and adjusted the handle on her luggage.
“I had no idea this city was traversed by canals until I read my travel book on the plane.” Susan gazed around the corso. “It’s got to be like a mini-Venice.”
“I know. I’ve never been to Livorno before.” It would be nice to spend a couple of days. “We’ll have some time on the return from Corsica. Not a lot. A half-day before we have to be at the airport in Rome. Maybe we can leave Corsica a bit earlier.”
“Oh, no. That’s not necessary. Really.”
All righty then.
“Do you know your way to the piazza?” Susan asked. “I can’t remember its name, or the name of the statue. I’m pulling a blank.” She frowned. “I think it was a duke. The statue, I mean. I have it written in my travel book. Do you want me to get it out? Should we buy a map?”
Dia smiled. Susan’s excited words fell all over each other. “It’s a straight shot down the Via Grande. It’s Piazza Micheli. It flanks the docks. The statue is of Grand Duke Ferdinand the First, whoever he was.” She laughed and pulled the small map she’d gotten in the rental agency out of the pocket of her walking shorts.
