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She smiled at the liveried hotel employee as she moved towards the main entrance. ‘And his wife, Eleanore, you said? They’re in shipping, right?’
‘Lukas started in shipping and expanded into hotels. Eleanore runs her own consulting and design business.’ Sebastiano’s hand brushed her lower back as they passed through the incredible foyer towards the main restaurant. ‘But relax, intern, I’m not going to grill you on this later.’
‘That’s a rel—Say, is that Julia Roberts?’
‘Who?’
‘The actress—Oh, never mind, I was probably wrong anyway.’ She smoothed down the knee-length skirt of her silky dress and gazed around her in wonder. ‘I’m just glad I lowered my pride and borrowed one of the dresses you bought at the start of the weekend. I thought the beautiful guests at your grandparents’ party were intimidating but the women here could give a girl a complex for life.’
‘You look stunning. You always look stunning.’
His low voice brought her eyes to his. He was wearing a suit with an open-neck shirt and he looked so handsome he made her heart ache. For all her good intentions on the flight to Venice—simply to enjoy a night in another exotic city and treat Sebastiano as if he were just any other man—she wasn’t succeeding very well. ‘Thanks. So do you.’
He stared down at her and Poppy willed her racing heart rate to settle. It would be mortifying if he realised that, far from thinking last night had been a mistake, she had in fact spent the day thinking about his impressive naked body. And no amount of internal pep talks about his ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ attitude towards women seemed to make a spit of difference to her treacherous hormones.
Suddenly he reached out to tug a strand of her hair away from where it had caught on her lip gloss and Poppy’s breath backed up in her lungs. The way he was looking at her right now, she would swear he didn’t think last night had been a mistake either.
‘Castiglione.’ A man cleared his throat behind them.
‘Ah, Lukas... Eleanore.’ Sebastiano turned to the couple as if the moment they had just shared had never happened. ‘You look lovely as usual.’ Sebastiano gave the requisite double kisses to the woman’s cheeks. ‘This is Poppy Connolly. Poppy, may I present Eleanore and Lukas Kuznetskov?’
‘Harrington,’ Eleanore corrected with a smile.
‘Really?’
Clearly surprised Sebastiano glanced at Lukas who merely shook his head. ‘Don’t ask.’
Eleanore laughed delightedly at the men’s wry grins and Poppy felt a bubble of happiness well up inside her as she watched the glamorous couple—Lukas with his dark-blond hair and striking blue eyes, and Eleanore with her cat-like elegance and wide smile. They looked relaxed and at ease with each other as if they had been together forever. Poppy knew MaryAnn would have taken one look at them and said, ‘True love.’
‘Poppy, it’s lovely to meet you,’ Eleanore said with genuine warmth. ‘I’m so glad you could join us. Is this your first visit to Venice?’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Mine too,’ Eleanore said. ‘I love it. You?’
‘It’s magical.’
‘Exactly the word Eleanore used when we landed,’ Lukas said, giving his wife an indulgent smile. ‘Hello, Poppy, I’m the luggage handler.’
Poppy laughed, already liking this couple immensely.
‘Oh, you’re more than that,’ Eleanore assured him. ‘You organise incredible sleigh rides too.’
Lukas flushed at the in joke and Sebastiano gave a low laugh at the other man’s discomfort. Groaning, Lukas shook his head. ‘See what married life does to you, Castiglione? It breaks you.’
Eleanore elbowed her husband in the ribs. ‘Stop complaining; you love it.’
Lukas’s eyes gleamed, as if he wanted to show her just how much he loved it, and Poppy found herself entranced.
‘I don’t know about you lot,’ Sebastiano interjected suavely, ‘But the last meal I ate was pizza about—was it yesterday or the day before?’ he asked Poppy.
Poppy shook her head. ‘I swear men are born with hollow stomachs. My brother is exactly the same.’
‘My sister Olivia eats like a horse,’ Eleanore said. ‘I was always so jealous growing up because she never put on a pound.’
‘Table. Conversation,’ Lukas instructed, guiding his wife with a hand at the small of her back. ‘I think my last meal was yesterday as well.’
Eleanore, it turned out, was incredibly creative and had dabbled in art classes when she’d been younger, informing Lukas that they would be visiting the Gritti Palace some time the following day after Poppy had gushed about the Byzantine artwork in the foyer.
