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‘For minor royals, maybe. In truth, it’s a lot of work,’ Dante said. ‘The initial plan when I bought it was that it would be a boutique hotel someday, but there’s a lot that needs to happen. Half of it is closed off...’
‘For renovations?’
‘Hazardous,’ he said. ‘Then there are the permissions needed for everything...’
He pulled a face, but as he showed her through, Alicia could tell he loved it down to the last hazardous brick.
‘I brought you in this way to see the view, but usually I take the front entrance. You can actually drive up to it.’
She was grateful now for the endless stairs and the glittering surprise at the top.
‘My residence is on the second floor—it’s not in such disrepair.’
There wasn’t a hint of disrepair.
Gorgeous rugs softened the stone floor and the furniture looked rather more inviting than the imposing edifice. French doors opened on to a large terrace, and she knew she would love to stand there and take in the view of the harbour.
‘We’ll eat out there tonight.’ He opened a little door. ‘More stairs,’ he said, and then added, ‘Your luggage might be a while.’
‘No problem.’
‘I mean it probably won’t get here until dinner.’
‘I’m not in a rush.’
‘Good.’
Another climb and they came out into a long stone corridor with just little slits in the walls high up and barely any light. ‘Left or right?’ Dante said.
‘Right.’
They walked along to a door, and as he opened it she stepped from darkness into a pretty chamber in pink. It really should have been gaudy, with so much pink, but it was pretty, and sensual, and it had an ocean view too. It was the prettiest room she had ever been in, Alicia realised, with a rosewood bed.
She pushed open a door to an equally pink bathroom. ‘Wow.’
Alicia was looking forward to soaking in that gorgeous tub—she would not be telling him she had only ever had a shower—and when she walked back into the bedroom she found she wanted to bounce the bed just to feel it. But she would do that alone.
‘Is this your room, Dante?’ she teased. She knew she should not even be edging towards flirting, but it was just a joke.
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘What’s this for?’ she asked, pointing to a velvet rope above the bed.
‘Come on.’ He pointed down the long corridor. ‘Your room is down there,’ he said, though she knew he meant his.
‘Can I see it?’
And that was not flirting—it was honest curiosity.
‘Oh, gosh!’ she said as they entered Dante’s room. It was very male, dressed predominantly in jade, and the bed was made of a dark carved wood that was imposing rather than inviting. More like a torture rack. ‘That doesn’t look very comfortable.’
‘It’s a medieval bed with a very modern mattress.’
‘Oh!’
‘It’s also built into the building’s structure and it can’t be taken out.’
Here the rope hanging from the ceiling was of thick jade velvet. She went to pull it, but stopped short when he said, ‘Better not.’
