“I’m sorry. Am I staring again? It is all so exciting. I do not go to the theater very often. And I have only been to an opera once, although I read as much as I can about such things. I believe this one is by Donizetti.”
“L’elisir d’amore. Rather sentimental, but some of the melodies are quite bearable. The tenor is Rubini, and Madame Grisi is playing the part of Adina.”
Some of the dandies were calling out, and Vivianna saw that a woman with bright red hair had seated herself in one of the boxes. Her gown was very low cut, her bosom almost spilling over, and she was wearing more jewels than the queen.
“Who is that?” she whispered, leaning closer to Oliver.
“Someone you shouldn’t have heard of,” he retorted.
Vivianna examined the redhead closely. “You mean like Aphrodite?” she said.
He smiled. “Yes, like Aphrodite.”
“But you know her?”
“That’s different.”
“Is it?”
His eyes were dark, intense, and very close to hers. She felt his breath upon her skin, and despite her determination not to, her lashes fluttered down, hiding her feelings from him. She could feel the pulse in her neck, hear the rush of blood in her ears. For a moment the noise of the theater was washed away beneath the tide of her desire.
“I want you,” he said, his voice a whisper in her ear. “And I think you want me, too. Don’t you?”
Vivianna drew back a little and looked again into his eyes.
“Don’t you?” he insisted, and there was something naked and vulnerable in his face.
She should lie, she supposed. Tease him. Play at indifference. But she could not. This was too important for teasing or lying. The passion and desire between them lay heavy, so that she was finding it difficult to breathe.
“Yes,” she said. “I do.”
The opera had started. Vivianna did not speak again, and neither did Oliver. It was as if, now the truth had been stated between them, they had to consider their next words very carefully. Perhaps, she thought, he wanted to draw back. Perhaps he had not expected her to say what she did.
Doubts gripped her, making her feel faintly queasy.
What would Aphrodite think, when she learned what Vivianna had done? Would she approve or shake her head with displeasure?
Rubini’s voice soared, along with that of the beautiful Madame Grisi. The audience was spellbound. Someone called, “Brava!” Someone else cried, “Hush!”
“Do you speak Italian?” Oliver asked her softly. His hand reached over and covered hers, where they were clenched together in her lap.
She jumped. “I…no, I don’t. Mama could not find an Italian instructor who would make the journey across the moors.”
“Ah.” He had taken off his gloves, and his fingers were strong and warm, and they held hers firmly, possessively.
“I understand the story despite the Italian, I think. The woman…”
“Adina.”
“Yes, she will not marry the man…”
“Nemorino.”
“He has bought a love elixir, but it does not work, and now Adina is going to marry someone else…the soldier.”
Oliver’s breath warmed her cheek. “Very good.”
“Will the ending be a happy one? Or is someone going to die?”