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Afterwards they ended up at the Trevi Fountain, floodlit for the evening, its water luminescent. It was still jammed with tourists.
‘Ready to throw your coin in the fountain?’ Dante smiled down at Connie as they edged their way forward.
‘Do I need to?’ she asked.
‘Only if you want to be sure of coming back to Rome again,’ Dante teased.
‘What? Even if it’s only coming from Milan? I thought the legend was just for those living in other countries? Oh, well, I’d better be on the safe side, I guess!’
She dug out a coin, turned her back on the glories of Bernini’s masterpiece waterworks, and threw it over her shoulder in time-honoured fashion. She looked round to see where it had landed, but it was impossible to tell amongst all the coins under the water.
‘They get collected daily and given to charity,’ Dante assured her. ‘Come on—we’d better get out of here before we get pushed into the fountain by the crowd. Let’s get agelato.’ He indicated the famousgelatariato one side of the fountain. ‘And then a coffee before heading back to the hotel.’
He put his arm around her shoulders as they strolled away from the fountain. As ever, it felt good to have her at his side.
Choosing agelatofrom the huge selection on offer took some time, and then, choices made, they wandered off into the still-mild night. It was relaxed and companionable, walking with her arm in arm, consuming their ice-creams, eying up likely cafés for their late-night coffee.
He told her that he’d run into Raf that day, agreed to dinner at their hotel the following night, and then he trailed another suggestion, putting it to her as they sat down at a pavement café and ordered their coffee.
‘Once you’ve seen enough of Rome, how about we keep heading south and take in Amalfi as well?’ he asked.
She raised her eyebrows. ‘That’s quite a distance. Can you afford to take so much time off work? I’m more than happy, truly, to head back to Milan.’
Her expression changed, and he saw there was a tinge of anxiety in it.
‘Dante, honestly...you don’t have to show me all of Italy in one go. There’s loads of time for me to see it, little by little.’
She took his hand, squeezed it as if reassuring him.
‘I’m perfectly happy in Milan, I promise.’
He cocked an eyebrow ‘You’re not that keen on my apartment, though, are you?’ he said perceptively. ‘It’s too modern for you.’ He smiled knowingly.
‘Well, it’s ideal for city living,’ she allowed. ‘But with the countryside of Lombardy being so beautiful, it’s a shame for you not to have at least a weekend place there to get away to, out of the city.’ She frowned a moment. ‘Where were you brought up, Dante? Where did your grandfather live?’
He answered her, but unwillingly, not wanting to dwell on the past. The present was what he was enjoying—and he liked it that way.
‘He had a massive mansion on the outskirts of the city. I sold it when I inherited. It cost a fortune to run. It wasn’t ancestral, or anything like that—he bought it when he first made serious money. I never liked it much,’ he admitted. ‘One of the few things I had in common with my father,’ he heard himself adding.
Connie was silent for a moment. ‘That’s a shame,’ she said quietly. ‘Were...were you and he not close before he was killed so tragically?’
‘No,’ said Dante.
He reached for his coffee. He didn’t want to spell out his life story for Connie. There was no point.
He looked across at her, his face shuttered. ‘I’ve told you, Connie. I was brought up by my grandfather. My parents were off, gadding about, social butterflies the pair of them. My grandfather worked me hard, but I grew up with a sense of responsibility and the expectation of being the one to run Cavelli Finance after my grandfather died. He was fond of me, in his own way, but he was a tough cookie—he’d made his fortune from scratch, and that requires a certain level of ruthlessness. As he aged, he got keen on my taking over more and more, being trained up for the job, but always under his close supervision—supervision that extended to way beyond work.’
As he went on he heard his voice change and tighten.
‘He wanted to supervise my whole life. Make sure I lived it the way he thought best.’ His gaze slipped away. ‘Maybe as he got older it made him think of posterity...the next generation...that sort of thing. And maybe,’ he said, still not looking at her, ‘that’s why he tried to manipulate me with his will. Forcing me to marry. Presumably he thought to kickstart the next generation after me.’
His gaze snapped back to her. Sharp now with remembered anger.
‘I was furious at being manipulated from beyond the grave. Determined to find a way to outwit him—outmanoeuvre him.’ His expression lightened finally. ‘And I did. I foundyou, Connie. And together—well, together we’ve found a solution to our own problems, and it’s worked out well. I think we’d both agree on that...’ His expression changed again, his eyes glinting, voice softening. ‘And we’ve both got a bonus payoff neither of us dreamt of at the start of all this.’
He reached for her hand, lying inert beside her coffee cup, and raised it to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly, sensuously.
‘An incredible bonus...’ he said huskily.
