The Italian Billionaire's New Year Bride

His smile reached from ear to ear. “Oh, don’t worry. You’re perfect.”

* * *

When the car pulled up outside the Coliseum bathed in the oranges and reds of the setting sun, Phoebe almost couldn’t breathe. She twisted in her chair in excitement. “Is it still open? Can we still go in?”

Matteo gave a nod as the car door opened. “Oh, we can do more than that.”

The ancient monument towered above her. Matteo walked around the car and held his hand out toward her. She couldn’t help but stare up in wonder as she slid her hand into his. Tingles shot up her arm as Matteo pulled her toward him and slipped his arm around her waist. He held his other hand up to the magnificent structure. “Some of the outer wall has crumbled, due to earthquakes and stone robbers. What you see now is mainly the old interior wall.”

Phoebe held her hands in front of her chest. “It’s just huge. You can’t really understand the size until you’re standing right here.”

Matteo was still smiling at her. “Can you imagine what this was like? Eighty thousand people crammed in here, shouting, watching the main event—watching the gladiators?”

His words sent a thrill down her spine. There were other people around, late tourists who looked as if they were heading home for the night.

“Can we really go inside?”

Matteo’s gaze connected with hers. “Let me give you a special tour. Then we can have dinner.”

She stared at him for a few seconds then nodded with excitement. Matteo led her to a special entrance and she held her breath as she walked inside.

There were only a few people left inside the structure. The illumination from the setting sun was a perfect backdrop of orange with streaks of lilac. Phoebe took a few tentative steps forward.

Matteo held out his hands. “Most of the arena floor is gone now—as is a lot of the seating. It was arranged strictly by social status.” He raised his eyebrows, “Boxes at the North and South ends for the Emperor and the Vestal Virgins, podiums at the same level for the senatorial class.” He gave a little wink. “They could bring their own chairs, you know.”

Phoebe let out a laugh. “Really?”

“Really.” He pointed to the next row up, “This was for the non-senators or knights, the one above that was for ordinary Roman citizens, split into two parts, one for the rich and one for the poor.”

Phoebe gave a nod as she glanced around in wonder. “Hundreds of years on, and we’re still obsessed with social class. You’d think we’d be past all that now.”

Matteo looked at her thoughtfully. “I know. We should be.” They moved a little further into the amphitheater. He pointed out some other parts. “There were specific sections for other people. Boys with their tutors, scribes, priests, soldiers on leave and foreign dignitaries.”

“Where did the women get to sit, then?” asked Phoebe. “The ones who weren’t vestal virgins.”

Matteo shook his head. “You might guess. The other women were allowed to stand with the slaves or the common poor.”

Phoebe gave a nod and kept looking around. “Well, I love the wonder of the place. I love the structure. The architecture.” She spun around, holding her hands out. “But I’m not sure that I agree with the history of the place.”

Matteo held out his hand again. “Come on, I’ll show you some more history.”

His hand held hers firmly as he led her down some steps. It was darker down here, with some dim lights that only added to the mysterious atmosphere. He gave her a knowing smile over his shoulder. It was colder down here. Threatening. But the warmth from his hand was reaching up all the way to her heart. This was a wonderful surprise. Something she could only have dreamed of. Matteo had done this for her?

He lowered his voice as they walked slowly. “This is the hypogeum. It literally means underground. Two levels with a subterranean network of tunnels and cages underneath the arena where the animals and gladiators were held.”

Phoebe stopped walking. “That makes the gladiators sounds like prisoners. I thought the Romans treated them like heroes?”

Matteo pulled a face. “It was complicated. There was a gladiator training school, ludus magnus, just outside the Coliseum. The gladiators could come straight through the tunnels to get here. They didn’t need to walk with the crowds. Some were volunteers, and some were slaves. Stories about them fighting for their freedom are greatly exaggerated.”

Phoebe looked around and rubbed one hand over her arm. All of a sudden this beautiful place gave her chills.

“You okay?”

She gave a small smile. “Maybe just a little overwhelmed. People died here. For sport. I know it’s glorified, but suddenly it all seems so real.”

Matteo nodded and slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go back upstairs.” His arm felt entirely natural there. More than comfortable. It certainly wasn’t comfort that was flooding through her veins right now.

He took her up a few flights of stone stairs and walked her out to one of the upper levels. There, sitting in front of her, was a table covered in a white linen cloth with candles flickering on top of it.

It was as if the world stopped.

“What...?”

Matteo walked over and pulled out a chair. “Have a seat, Phoebe. We can look over the rest of Rome as we dine.”

She blinked, wondering if any second she was actually going to wake up. “Wh...when you said we were going for dinner I imagined we were going to a restaurant somewhere.” She looked around again, not quite believing what she was seeing. The sky had darkened around them, and yellow lights were illuminating the arches of the Coliseum. “I didn’t think we would be eating dinner...” she waved her hands “...here.”

For a second Matteo looked worried. “You want to eat somewhere else?”

She shook her head as she strode over. “No. Of course I don’t.” She sat down quickly and a few seconds later her glass was filled with wine and an entrée salad appeared in front of her.

She looked around once again. There was a waiter. But she couldn’t see another single person.

“Where is everyone?” she whispered.

“Oh,” said Matteo easily, “we have the place to ourselves. The evening tours have just finished and the Coliseum has closed its door to the public.”

Phoebe lifted her fork and took a

breath. “Matteo, just how rich are you?”

He winked at her. “Not rich at all. Haven’t you heard? I’m selling two houses.”

She let out a laugh and tried her food. “Did you get them to build a whole kitchen for you too?”

He held up his hands. “You got me. I sweet-talked a local chef at my favorite restaurant.”

Now she put down her fork. “You sweet-talked someone? You? Matteo Bianchi? You actually know how to sweet-talk?”

He gave an embarrassed shrug. “Sometimes, I can be nice.”

She kept a hint of teasing in her voice. “Just not to me.”

He looked at her warily. “I might have been...short with you. But that’s all. You think I haven’t been nice to you?”

She could see the hint of worry in his eyes. She held out her hands. “Matteo, we’re sitting in the Coliseum, in Rome, having a private dinner.” She picked up her wine glass and gave an appreciative nod. “I think we can put this one in the nice column.”

He sighed as he picked up his wine glass too. “Well, thank goodness. I don’t know if we could have made it to the Leaning Tower in time for dessert.”

She smiled and leaned across the table toward him, clinking her glass against his. “Hmm... Pisa, now there’s a thought.”

“You want to visit Pisa too?”

She shook her head. “Not right now. In my lifetime? Yes, I’d love to. But right now, I’m just getting over the shock of finally getting back on a plane and completing a journey.” She picked a little at her salad. “You know, it wasn’t quite as bad as I thought.”

“No?”

She leaned back in her chair as she studied the beautiful surroundings. “No, it wasn’t. It was more just the thought of it. All the fears. The expectations. I knew they were irrational. The sensible part of my brain could tell me that.” She met his dark gaze and gave him a smile. “I just had problems listening to it.” She tilted her head to the side. “I’m not promising I won’t be terrified on the way home.”