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The King had spoken and he was calling him home.
It was a busy day in the Oratory. As Antonietta had predicted, a lot of the guests had saved their treatments to be taken close to Christmas. And even if Christmas was a somewhat muted affair out in the main building, here in the Oratory it was festive indeed.
She painted many nails red and even performed her first massage on a paying client.
‘Busy day?’ Pino asked, long after six, when the last client had finally left.
‘Very.’ She sighed. ‘How about you?’
‘Lots of activity...’ He halted. ‘Never mind.’ It would seem that Pino had found his discretion button. ‘Ready for Christmas?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘Is that for Aurora?’ Pino asked, when she showed him the large bottle of fragrant oil she had purchased with her staff discount.
It was easier to nod—though of course it was for Rafe. Antonietta had decided that chocolate wasn’t enough, and had been racking her brains as to what she could get him. What was a person supposed to buy for a prince who had everything?
Including her heart.
She had let go of her heart and lost it to Blue Grotto kisses, and now she had spent half a week’s wages on a bottle of neroli oil and had it wrapped in a bow.
Antonietta had never been happier in her life and it had not gone unnoticed—even Pino commented now that she looked brighter.
‘I’m just...’ But Antonietta could not explain the joy that radiated from her, nor her sudden exuberance, for fraternising with guests was strictly forbidden. So she blamed the season of goodwill for her wide smile. ‘Looking forward to Christmas, I guess.’
Which was a lie, because she was actually dreading it, for by Christmas Rafe would be gone.
‘Only four more days,’ Pino said, and then his phone started to ring. ‘Do you mind if I get that? It’s my daughter—she’s with the in-laws and worried about me.’
‘Sure.’ Antonietta smiled. ‘Say hi from me.’
He gave her a wave and as she stepped into the night she saw that Pino was huddled over his phone, with his back to her, engrossed in his conversation.
There were no guests coming in or out to concern him. No cars arriving or helicopters approaching, nor guests checking in or out.
She could walk the fifteen minutes it would take her to get home, quickly get changed, and then walk the fifteen minutes back to Rafe’s suite’s private entrance.
Or she could go there now and have an extra thirty-five minutes with him.
And when you only had three days until Christmas Eve, when the man you were falling for was leaving, those minutes counted. And so, instead of walking home, Antonietta walked back inside the monastery.
If Pino saw her she would say she had left her phone, or something.
But there was no need for the excuses she had practised, for so deep in conversation was Pino that she entered unseen, slipped behind the stone partition and took the elevator without being spotted.
Past the Starlight and Temple Suites and through the cloister she walked briskly, wondering which excuse she would give if she was caught.
There was no guard on the door, and Antonietta frowned, because she had never known Rafe’s suite to be unattended. And it was not just his suite that was unguarded. As she swiped her card and pushed the door open Antonietta realised that her heart was unguarded too.
For almost the first time since his arrival shehadn’tspent the day with her ears strained for the sound of his helicopter, signalling that he was leaving. Or for Francesca’s voice informing her that Signor Dupont had departed and she should turn over his suite.
And now she stood there, silent and completely unprepared, for she held his gift in her hands and her face still bore the smile she had been wearing when she entered, as if the wind had changed and set it there.
An ill wind.
When she had expected it least, Rafe had gone.
‘Antonietta!’
