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The older woman nodded. “Gabriella shall go with you. She will help deliver the painting. Acting as an ambassador for our family.”
“If you wish,” he said again.
He had been desperate to escape Gabriella. Her tempting mouth, her soft touch. Nothing good could come of the attraction between them. Ever. Acting on it—more than they already had—was simply not an option. He would leave her untouched.
But in order for him to honor such a vow, he would need to get a good deal of distance between them.
This was not conducive to that goal.
He had honorable intentions, but he was a flesh and blood man. His spirit was willing but his flesh was very, very weak where she was concerned.
Still, he could not refuse.
“Of course,” he said.
“Excellent,” the queen said, “I will have some of the staff show you to your room. In the meantime, I would like to spend some time with my granddaughter.”
*
Gabriella looked at the clock. It was nearly midnight, but she was still sitting awake in the library. Her conversation with her grandmother was playing over in her mind.
Lucia had been talking of an old love, of honor and duty perhaps not being everything. Of how her heart still ached, all these years later, when she looked at the painting.
It was so very strange for Gabriella, to hear her pragmatic grandmother speaking of love. They had spoken of it before, but always Lucia had been cautionary, because she had spoken of its loss.
Now, though…she said when she looked at that painting it made her feel so full. It made her realize all the beauty she had carried with her thanks to that ill-fated affair.
Made her realize she could never truly regret loving Bartolo, though she had not spent her life with him.
In addition to that, Gabriella’s nerves were slightly frazzled with the idea of going to New York. More specifically, going with Alex.
It meant an extension on their time on Isolo D’Oro. More time just to be near each other. Circling around the larger things that neither of them were prepared to embrace.
She wanted it. She wanted more time with him. But she wasn’t sure they should have it.
Things were… Well, they weren’t normal between them. She had been looking forward to getting away from him, and now it appeared that wouldn’t be happening. Of course, as much as she had been looking forward to there being some distance between them, she had also dreaded it.
The idea of going back to life as it had been before. As though she had never met him, as though they had never spent a week on Isolo D’Oro together. As though he had never called her beautiful, as though they had never kissed… The very idea of that was painful to her. Sat in her chest heavily like a leaden weight.
Which was probably the most telling sign that she didn’t need to get away from him.
She stretched out on her tuffet, raising her arms, her hands balled into fists. She looked back down at the book she’d been reading and rubbed her eyes. It was a history book that focused on the art and culture of Isolo D’Oro. She had thought to look at it with her newfound real-life take on Isolo D’Oro to see if it might enhance it. Mainly, she had just sat there staring at the pages. Imagining the countryside. Being there, standing in the sunshine with Alex. Sitting in the garden with him, basked in moonlight as he tasted her. Touched her.
The door to the library opened and she startled.
Alex was standing there looking dashing, like a hero from a historical novel come to life.
He was wearing a white shirt open at the collar, the sleeves pushed up past his forearms. His hair looked as though he’d been running his fingers through it. He looked… Well, he looked like temptation personified.
“I thought I might find you here, Gabby,” he said.
Her stomach did a little flip at his use of her nickname. “Yes, I do like the library.”
She took her glasses off and rubbed at the bridge of her nose before putting them back in place.
“You look tired,” he said.
“I am. But I couldn’t sleep. I don’t see how I could with everything that’s happening tomorrow. New York. I’ve never been.”
