Whisked Away by Her Millionaire Boss

‘I’m ready to go,’ she managed. ‘Let’s do Milan.’

As they exited the hotel it felt good to walk along tourist-thronged streets, through narrow alleys redolent with the tantalising smell of pizza. Part of that pleasure came from walking close to Ben, feeling the warmth and strength of his body, the awareness and an added edge as she moved slightly closer to him.

You’re playing with fire, warned her inner voice.

Just one round, her body argued back. Not enough time to get burnt...the flames are under control.

‘Cathedral first?’ he suggested. ‘Il Duomo is an absolutely incredible place. I visit every year.’

‘With Maree?’

‘No.’ He grinned. ‘Maree isn’t big on culture or sightseeing. This is something I usually do by myself.’

‘Oh...’ Doubt flickered. ‘If you’d prefer to split up...?’

‘Nope. I’d like to go with you. I think you’ll appreciate it and...’

‘And?’

‘It’ll be nice to witness your enthusiasm. Your face literally lights up.’

Sarah wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she settled for annoyance. ‘So you like my lack of sophistication?’

‘No.’ He shook his head, refusing to rise to the bait. ‘I like your enthusiasm. I like that you are enjoying yourself. Your sophistication and poise has been completely evident these past days.’

There was that all too familiar shiver of guilt—because she was enjoying herself. Of course she missed Jodie—she really did. But, having spoken to her twice a day, she knew her daughter was perfectly happy, having fun with her grandmother, and secure in the knowledge that Sarah would be home soon.

So she knew her guilt to be misplaced—and yet it persisted. Guilt that she was here under false pretences, and a generalised guilt that had seemed to be part of her very soul since Imo had died. A guilt she managed to push away whilst she was working, but now... This was sheer indulgence.

For a moment she considered the option of turning tail and heading back to the hotel. But that would be downright rude—plus she suspected that Ben would demand and be entitled to an explanation.

‘In that case, lead on,’ she said instead.

‘They say all roads in Milan lead to Il Duomo,’ he said.

Indeed, she could see its looming majesty as they walked. But nothing could have prepared her for the up-close reality, the sheer vastness of the light marble façade with its fairy-tale undertones of pink, orange and blue.

‘How can a building be so colossal and yet so delicate? The spires are like a forest, reaching for the sky.’

‘Apparently Mark Twain described it as “So grand, so solemn, so vast! And yet so delicate, so airy, so graceful!”’

‘Well, he got that spot-on.’

‘Rooftop first, and then we can look inside?’

‘That works for me. I can’t believe you can actually walk on the roof.’

Once they’d ridden the elevator up she really did feel as though she needed to suspend belief. She felt the magnitude of being atop the magnificent building, walking between the lacy spires of delicate marble and the plethora of rich carvings, sculptures and gargoyles on view.

‘Look.’

Ben was pointing upwards, and for a moment instead of following his instruction she focused instead on the sculpted length of his arm, the outline of muscle, and imagined that given a chance the Renaissance sculptors would have loved to use this man as a model.

She gulped and then caught sight of the statue atop the cathedral’s main spire.

‘The Golden Madonna, symbol of the city. She’s watched over its people for centuries.’

Turning to look down at the streets below, Sarah felt almost dizzy as she gazed at the surroundings and tried to imagine all the work that had gone into building it.