The heavens had opened on the last block and his hair was plastered to his head, the shirt of his tux was damp, his jacket lost along the route. It had taken longer than it should have, for he’d had an unexpected stop, thumping on the door of Luigi Favonne. Everyone in this section of Rome knew Luigi. He could turn a diamond into living fire and for Principo Benedetti he had found, in his bed robe and bath slippers, a green emerald so true its heat licked his fingers as he held it tight in his hand.
She was sitting at the bar, her ballgown surging around her, her bare arms and shoulders above the midnight blue satin alabaster in the soft white light of the neon-lit room. The bartender was watching her as he polished glasses, and people were giving her curious looks, but no one had approached her.
She seemed to be in a world of her own.
He was within a metre of her when he said, ‘Ava mio.’
Her head turned slowly. Her face was pale and ravaged with tears.
‘I am not your Ava,’ she said in a low, terrible voice. ‘And I never was.’
She threw something at him. It hit him in the chest and he caught it.
The ring. The heavy, ugly, baroque ring. With all the history attached to it.
He strode up to her and stood there, resolute but unsure where to begin.
She looked up at him, her eyes furious. ‘Go away. I don’t want you.’
‘Then why are you here, my love?’
Her chin came out. Her entire face quivered. ‘I’m waiting for someone. If he’s the man he should be he’ll come, and if he doesn’t I’m better off without him.’
He knew then how it had been for her. That long day when he’d been at the hospital with his mother and sisters, with the lawyers at the palazzo and with the authorities answering questions, she had been here, waiting for him to show.
Frustration shot through him. They had both made mistakes. There was nothing he could do about the past. Nothing. But he wasn’t going to let it rule their lives.
In the end it came down to three words. ‘I’m here now.’
She looked at him uneasily.
‘I want you to forgive me, Ava. I should have moved heaven and earth to find you.’
He braced himself for whatever would come, and then, like a miracle, her chin quivered, her mouth softened and she said, ‘I shouldn’t have run.’ Her hands spread lightly over her lap. ‘You found me tonight.’
Relief shuddered through him.
She loves me, he thought. I know she loves me.
‘And it was only one night,’ she added in a low voice.
‘It was our night,’ he asserted. ‘Our amazing perfect night.’
She looked up, something soft entering her eyes. ‘It was perfect.’
He pocketed the old ring and extended his hand to her.
‘Come with me.’
Slowly, swishing her skirts as she slid off the stool, Ava took his hand. Her soft fingers felt incredibly delicate to him and he couldn’t believe he’d shoved that ring onto her finger so crudely.
He never did anything crudely. He’d been raised better. He treated women properly, with kindness and consideration. But Ava had brought other emotions to the surface—strange, rough, wild, authentic feelings. She had seen him at his worst.
She had never shied away from that.
If she would have him he would be the most fortunate man in Rome.
* * *
The Excelsior possessed a tower, built in the sixteenth century, its winding stairs well-worn from the many thousands of tourists who had climbed it since it had been restored seventy years ago.
It was roped off at this hour, but a heavy bribe enabled him access and Gianluca whisked her up the steps.
‘This is crazy,’ she said amidst the rustle of her gown, the heavy tread of his shoes, the click of her heels.
The view was breathtaking.
Even on this overcast night.
‘Ava mio.’ He drew her close. ‘To the east of here is the Benedetti summer residence. It’s old, and the drains aren’t good, but every summer I would be dragged there. I hated it. I hated what it represented—hundreds of years of oppression. I vowed when I was young that I wouldn’t marry, I wouldn’t have children, I wouldn’t continue the legacy.’
He stroked her cheek.
‘Then I met you.’
Ava’s black lashes were stuck starfish-fashion to her skin as she gazed up at him.
‘Do you see that hill to the west? The first tribes ever to inhabit Rome lived there. I want to build a home for us there. Something that belongs only to us and our children.’
‘But you don’t want children.’
‘I want them with you.’
Ava made a little sound.
He fell to his knees before her.
‘My love, will you spend the rest of your life with me?’