“Who said that?”
“The one with an Australian accent.”
“They all had Australian accents.”
“The skinny one with the leather skirt, spiked heels and too tight blouse.”
“Oh, her.” Ross slightly smiled. “I didn’t notice her.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you didn’t.”
“So what did you say?”
“Nothing. But I wanted to hit her with one of her spike heels.”
Ross lightly chuckled, and it made Eliana happy to hear his laughter.
“So you really like my portrait?”
“It’s beautiful work. I see great things for you.” He grinned. “Even though I sound like a fortune cookie saying that. I admit that I’m a little disappointed that you’re giving it to me.”
“Why?”
“I had hoped that you might want me hanging around.”
“I would hang it on my bedroom door if I could. But I don’t think Maurizio would go for it.”
“No, I don’t suppose he would.”
She took his hand. “Besides, I have the real thing.”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.
CHAPTER 30
“I frutti proibiti sono I piu dolci.” Forbidden fruit is sweetest.
—Italian Proverb
T
hey ate and flirted and laughed, then ordered coffee as the restaurant grew in occupancy and noise. An hour later the restaurant’s ambiance had grown too loud for them to hear each other without shouting.
“Want to go for a walk?” Ross yelled.
“Love to,” she shouted back.
Ross signaled the waiter from across the room by pretending to write in his palm. Ross handed payment to the waiter.
“Tenga il resto.” Keep the change.
“Grazie, signore.”
It was night when they emerged from the restaurant. Holding hands, they wound their way through the narrow city streets until they reached the Arno. Neither spoke for a while.
“I suppose I’m rather awkward at this,” Eliana said.
“Awkward at what?”
“Dating.” She turned to him. “That’s what this is, isn’t it? A date.”
Ross didn’t answer immediately. “A rose by any other name.”
They walked east for several more blocks parallel to the river, until they came to a place where the crowds had thinned. They stopped and looked out over the river. The water ran slow and dark, like ink beneath them, reflecting the thin, quivering half moon as clearly as if it had fallen into the river. Ross found a gradual slope and led Eliana down to the bank of the river, where a fence sequestered a private boating club. A “No Trespassing” sign spelled out in five different languages was posted on the fence, but Ross ignored all of the languages and climbed around the fence then helped Eliana.
They sat down on the soft grass, and even though the temperature had been falling with the season, the heat from their bodies was enough for them to keep each other comfortable. Ross laid his head in her lap and they sat in the quiet, the moon high above them, bright and smooth in the sky. Eliana ran her fingers up his cheeks to his hairline, where she gently massaged his temples.
“Have you ever seen a moon like that?” Ross asked.
“Only here. I’ve decided that the moon really belongs to Florence. The Florentines just share it with the rest of the world.”
“Who’s watching Alessio tonight? Anna?”
“No, Manuela. Anna’s in Genoa again with Andrea. She’s so in love.”
“I can relate.”
Eliana bent over and kissed him.
Ross sighed. “When do you need to be home?”
“It doesn’t matter. I told Manuela that I’d be out late.”
There was another pause.
“And Maurizio?”
“He left three days ago. He’s in Switzerland.”
Ross brought her hand to his lips and one by one kissed each of her fingers. Then he suddenly began laughing. “This day is turning out very differently than I expected.”
“Better, I hope.”
“
Much
better.”
“It’s not over yet,” she said, her words laced with promise. “How did you find this place?”
“This is my neighborhood. I live right over there.” Ross pointed across the Arno to a row of old buildings that overlooked the south bank of the river.
“Which building?”
“The second one to the left. The tall yellow one.”
“I see it.”
“That’s my home.”
“It must be lovely overlooking the Arno. What’s your apartment like?”
“It’s small. It’s a studio with a bed and a table. The kitchen just has a hot plate.”
“Do you like living there?”
“It’s convenient to work,” he said. “But the view’s not as pretty as it was in Rendola.”
“You think Rendola’s nicer than the Arno and her bridges?”
“I was talking about
you
.”
She squeezed him. Then she asked, “Do you think I’m a mistake?”
“No, I think you’re a gift.”
“Maybe I’m both. Sometimes I think most of the things I cherish in life were mistakes. We weren’t trying to get pregnant when Alessio came.”
“Just because you didn’t plan it doesn’t mean it was a mistake. There are things that come to us because they’re supposed to.”
“Like you,” she said. “I don’t know what it will cost me to be with you, Ross, but I know that I can’t be without you.”
“Then come with me. I promise that I’ll spend the rest of my life making you glad that you did.”
His words swept over her heart, and she lay back on the ground and closed her eyes. Ross rolled off her, to his side, and raised himself over her, studying her face, marveling at its perfection. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known,” he said. He touched her eyelids, and she closed her eyes still tighter, forcing a pool of tears from them. He gently touched the inside corner of her eyes, wetting his finger with her tears, then touched his finger to her lips. She could taste the salt of her own tears. He leaned over her and their mouths touched. She wanted him with all of her being, and she knew, at that moment, that she could give up everything in her life to feel this way.
“If I leave Maurizio, will you take me?” she whispered.
“Do you need to ask?”
“For Alessio’s sake, I do.”
“Yes. If you and Alessio will have me.” This made Ross think. “Will Maurizio fight you for custody of Alessio?”
“Custody is the last thing Maurizio would want. He’s never around as it is. Custody is only an issue if I try to leave Italy. But you don’t want to leave Italy, right?”
“Right.”
She closed her eyes again, and again Ross drew his finger across her face, tracing the delicate lines of her cheeks and brows.
“Ross . . .”
He touched his finger to her lips again. She stopped, as if there was some virtue to his touch that could stop her thoughts or freeze her speech, and in truth there was. She smiled as she felt him draw his finger across her lips; then she kissed it. He drew his finger lower, down her chin, her neck, down the front of her shirt. Bumps rose on her skin. He lifted the gold necklace that hung just above her breasts. “What’s this?”
“It’s a gold florin. My mother gave it to me the night before I left for Italy.”
He lowered the medallion then leaned over her again, pressing his mouth against hers. The emotion Ross now felt was overwhelming, more spiritual than physical. He desired to weep as their mouths touched and his hands caressed a woman who seemed more beautiful than could exist for him.
Then his eyes began to well with tears. He tried to hide it from her, but a tear ran down his cheek and fell on her face.
Eliana pulled back from him. “Ross, what’s wrong?”
He only shook his head and looked away.
She kissed his forehead, then pulled his head in to her breast. “Tell me what’s wrong, love.”
When Ross could speak, he looked up at her with wet eyes. “I am so afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Of losing you.”
“You’re not going to lose me.”
“Eliana, everyone I have ever loved has gone away.
Everyone
. My parents, my brother, Alyssa. I can’t lose you, Eliana. I can’t lose you too. My heart will never survive it.”
She kissed his forehead. “You’ll never lose me. Never. I can’t live without you. I promise. You just need to have hope this one last time.”
Ross fell into her again and they held each other tightly and love rose around them like a vapor. At that moment they found what they had both been denied, fulfillment of the greatest of all human needs: the need to love and to be loved. Night stretched itself deep and black and still, and for them even the sounds of the city ceased. They were no longer in want or pain or even in Florence. They were only in love.
CHAPTER 31
“Che dolce più che più giocondo stato saria di quel d’un amoroso cuore.”
How sweet is the rapturous state of soft passions in a heart full of love.
—Italian Proverb
D
awn comes early to Florence. It was only five o’clock, and the curtain of morning rose across the city and exposed the two of them still together on the bank of the golden Arno, Eliana lying against Ross’s chest, encircled in his arms. They had talked most of the night, about the past and present, but mostly about their future.
Eliana didn’t know what time it was when she had fallen asleep and she didn’t know where she was when she first woke. But she smiled when she realized that she was still with Ross. It was like waking from a pleasant dream only to find it real. There could be nothing sweeter, she thought. How long had it been since she had felt this way? It seemed like forever. For as long as she could remember all she had wanted was to be held—to be held and cherished. Now she had both. It was right that they were together for the sunrise, Eliana thought. It was a dawning for both of them.
She realized then that Ross was also awake, and she tilted her head back to look at him.
He is beautiful,
Eliana thought. Night and its magic have more than once played tricks on lovers, turning their affections into illusions. But he was no illusion. If anything he was more beautiful in the light. His face was rough with new growth and his hair tousled, slightly matted, boyish-cute, she thought. One of his hands pressed above the curve of her hip, the other gently rubbed her lower back. She loved the way her body fit against his, the way their bodies twined until she no longer knew where hers stopped and his began.
He kissed her on her forehead and she moved up to press her lips against his. She would follow him anywhere, she thought. She didn’t have a choice anymore. He brushed her hair back from her face, again looking into her eyes.
“Good morning.” His voice was raspy.
“Good morning. When did I fall asleep?”
“A few hours ago.”
“Did you sleep?”
“No. I’ve just been watching you.” Then he said, “I love you.”
She sighed happily. “I know. And I love you.” She pulled herself closer to him, her cheek pressed against his warm chest.
Then Ross said, “If everything I have suffered was the price to bring you to me, then it was worth it.”
His words pierced the very inner walls of her heart, draining it in a flood of emotion. She closed her eyes. He held her and let her cry. After a long while she asked, “How will we live, Ross?”
“Happily.”
She ran her finger along his chest. “We
will
be happy. I’ll get a job. Alessio’s doctor bills can be heavy.”
Ross smiled because she still didn’t understand. “Money’s not a problem.”
“I know it’s not. I don’t mind working. I don’t need things. As long as I have you.”
“You have me.” He was silent awhile then explained. “My partners wanted me out of the agency at any cost. So they bought me out. You won’t have to work. You can stay home with Alessio.”