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Her grip loosened just a little on his hand, but she didn’t pull it away. “Sorry,” she breathed, then stayed quiet for a few minutes. After a bit she licked her lips and met his gaze. “I had a fiancé. Jason. He was a pilot. He died in a flying accident three years ago.”
It was like being punched in the guts. A fiancé?
“I’m sorry, Phoebe. I had no idea.” He couldn’t help the next words. “What happened?”
She blinked. Her voice was a little shaky. “Engine failure. Double engine failure. Something that shouldn’t happen. Jason tried to land the plane. He had to divert it away from a built-up area and ended up crashing in woods.” She gave her head a shake. “I’ve just had a thing about flying since then.” She took a deep breath. “I had a funeral to go to last year—an old school friend. I’d bought a plane ticket but just couldn’t do it. I ended up driving the four and a half hours to Washington instead of taking the hour-long flight.”
“Is this the first flight you’ve been on?”
She bit her lip and nodded. Matteo hadn’t let go of her hand yet. He gave it another squeeze. “You should have told me.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I tried to say no. You didn’t like that.”
He sighed. “I thought you were just reneging on the deal. I didn’t know there was something else going on. If you’d told me, I would have acted differently.”
“Would you?”
“Of course I would.” He waited a few seconds then added, “But I’m really glad you’re here. Just wait. It will be worth it. The first time you do anything again is always the hardest.”
She frowned as she looked at him, almost as if she were connecting the words with something else, then she gave him a soft smile and nodded. “You could be right.”
He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “I promise you, you’ll love Rome, and you’ll love the house.”
“I hope so,” she said, as she leaned back in her chair and finally pulled her hand away.
Matteo stared down at his hand.
All of a sudden it surprised him how empty his hand felt.
He glanced sideways. Phoebe had been engaged. She’d had a fiancé.
He couldn’t help but be curious about the man that had captured Phoebe Gates’s heart.
He just couldn’t figure out why it made him so uncomfortable.
* * *
The plane gave a jolt and Phoebe felt a tear escape down her cheek. She couldn’t breathe. Was it engine failure? What if she never saw her mother again?
Matteo’s hand closed over hers again. “Grip as hard as you like. It’s just a little bit of turbulence. I can take it.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m here with you, Phoebe. We’ll get through this.”
His green eyes were warm and sincere. She couldn’t help the second tear that slid down her cheek. Matteo reached up with his free hand and gently brushed it away. “Tell me about Jason,” he said. “Tell me what he was like.”
The breath that was caught in the back of her throat came out steadily. “He...he was good,” she murmured. “He was great.” It was odd to talk about Jason with someone that had never known him. Her brain tried to sort out her jumbled thoughts. “He was a couple of years older than me. We met in Central Park when I was nineteen. He was already in the navy, training as a pilot.” She nodded. “He loved his job, completely loved it. Flying was a huge part of his life.”
“And you?”
Matteo’s finger started tracing soothing circles on the back of her hand. “Oh, he loved me too. Just as much as I loved him.” Her voice stuttered a little as a memory swamped her. But it was a good memory, something that made her happy. “He used to make me laugh. He used to make me laugh so hard my sides hurt.” She shook her head. “And he shared my sci-fi addiction. Any film, any TV series that was remotely sci-fi was always playing in the background. It didn’t matter how bad it was.” She smiled. “We watched it anyway.”
She was aware of the gentle movements of his finger. She knew he was trying to distract her. Trying to keep her calm. But somehow, in the midst of all this, talking about Jason felt good.
“He’d left the navy and had just got a job as a commercial pilot. We were trying to make plans. Get our lives on track for the future.” Her voice drifted off.
Matteo didn’t jump in. He didn’t push her for more. He just kept doing what he was doing, watching her with those dark green eyes with tiny flecks of gold. “He sounds like a great guy.”
She nodded. “He was. And he was big.” She shook her head. “We looked like the odd couple.” She held up one hand. “I’m not exactly in the tall department and Jason was six foot six.” She raised her eyebrows. “It certainly came in handy when I had any clients I felt uncomfortable around. One look from Jason was enough.”
The air hostess bumped past them with the drinks trolley. It seemed the turbulence had ended and the “fasten seat belt” sign was off now.
It was nice. It was nice to talk about Jason and remember him. Remember how much she loved him and the part he’d played in her life. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“What for?”
She stared down at their hands. “For this. For distracting me. For letting me talk. For letting me remember.”
“Don’t you talk about Jason?”
She gave him a sad smile. “Sometimes with my mom. But I think she worries it makes me sad. What I worry about is forgetting. I feel guilty.”
Matteo pressed his lips together for a second. His voice was husky. “Remembering is good. We’ll never be able to remember every detail.” He put one hand on his heart, while using the other to intertwine his fingers with hers, “But what we hold in here is really important. Anyone we lose, we carry them with us every day. In our hearts and in our minds. That’s what’s important.”
There was something about the way he said the words that made her heart give a little flip. He understood. He got it.
And all of a sudden so did she. She’d loved Jason for so long. She always would. She shouldn’t be scared of forgetting him—that wouldn’t happen. But that didn’t mean that once she was ready, she wouldn’t be able to open her heart to someone else.
She shouldn’t feel guilt. Jason would have hated that. She nodded at Matteo as her heart gave another little pitter-patter against her chest.
“You’re right,” she said quietly. “That’s exactly what’s important.”
* * *
The heat levels
in Rome were mild. But compared to the chill of New York, it was practically balmy.
After their connection on the plane, Matteo seemed more relaxed in Rome; he spoke his native language fluently and she almost laughed out loud at the gestures he used when chatting to others. In New York, he was so much more reserved.
She was tired. She’d only managed a few hours’ sleep on the flight over the Atlantic and the bright morning light of Rome felt harsh on her eyes. But Matteo had assured her that the family home in Rome was much more habitable than the one in the Hamptons, and the interior design work would be much less intense.
The car passed through Rome, giving Phoebe a few glimpses of some of the wonders. She couldn’t help but smile. “First time in Rome?” asked Matteo.
“First time in Italy,” she breathed. “I’ve always wanted to come here.”
Matteo gave a small nod. “We’ll need to try and see if we can fit in some sightseeing.”
“Really?” She hadn’t expected that from him, and when he gave another nod she settled back into the soft leather seats and took a deep breath. Rome. Wonderful.
The car pulled onto a long winding road set on a hill. After a few minutes a sixteenth-century-style house appeared in front of her with panoramic views over Rome, the sea and Tivoli.
“How beautiful,” sighed Phoebe as the driver stopped the car and came around to open the door for her.
Matteo opened the front door to the house and gave her a smile as they stepped onto the red-tiled floor. He waited a few seconds as she let out a gasp.
He gave a nod of acknowledgement. “The villa contains within its walls works of art by masters of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The galleries and lounges all have late baroque and rococo frescoed ceilings. I think you’ll like all the features—the oval staircase, the trompe l’oeil, the wood paneling and the parquet.”
Even though she was tired from the flight the sight of the magnificent villa was enough to kick-start her again. Matteo did a walk through, showing her the five elegant state rooms and thirteen bedrooms. “This place is wonderful,” she said as she clasped her hands to her chest. “Why on earth would your family want to sell it?”
