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Abruptly, he let her hand go, bolting down the rest of his coffee, finding his wallet and tossing the requisite notes on the table.
Holding out his hand to Connie, he got to his feet. ‘Shall we get back to the hotel?’ he suggested.
Desire was unhidden in his voice.
Connie gave a sigh of deep contentment, looking around the small, cobbledpiazzalined with ancient-looking higgledy-piggledy houses, some draped with ivy, some with peeling paint. The whole place had, to her mind, a charming, boho feel to it.
After taking in the splendours of St Peter’s, she’d asked to see the Trastevere area across the Tiber, and Dante had obliged, after warning her that it had become very touristy, and could be down at heel in places. But Connie liked it, despite his warning, and said as much now, as they settled down to have a late lunch at a very ordinary-lookingtrattoriawhose simple, pasta-dominated menu was a far cry from the gourmet delicacies conjured up by the Falcone’s celebrity chef.
Her spaghetti, when it arrived, was delicious, and even Dante conceded his was as well, and washed it down with one of the many craft beers for which, he told her, Trastevere was famous.
He glanced around him. ‘God knows when I was last here,’ he remarked. ‘Probably when I was a student, with a bunch of mates, enjoying the bars...sampling all the beers! It gets very lively in the evenings, and that would have suited me at the time. Not that I ever got much time to gallivant about,’ he added, forking up his pasta, his voice changing. ‘My grandfather kept me on a tight rein.’
Connie looked at him with sympathy. From this and what he’d mentioned to her over coffee the night before, it sounded as if his grandfather hadn’t been easy to live with.
‘Were you at university here in Rome?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘No, Milan—and I had to live at home for the duration. I managed to go AWOL sometimes, though...heading down here to Rome, where Raf was studying, and I experienced a bit of nightlife then.’
Connie’s expression was troubled. ‘That seems pretty harsh of your grandfather,’ she said. Her voice softened. ‘My gran urged me to choose a uni far from the West Country. She wanted me to be independent. Quite the opposite from your grandfather’s attitude,’ she said, with sympathy in her voice.
Dante shrugged. ‘He didn’t want me getting a taste for self-indulgence, like my father had.’
She shook her head. ‘Everyone needs to enjoy their student years, as well as studying hard.’
He reached for his beer, took a slug. ‘Well, like I said, I was kept on a tight leash. Which is why I was so determined to break it after his death. And to keep it broken.’
He set his glass down with a decided click and she could see the tension in him. Her gaze was troubled. Dante might have been raised without any money worries at all, but that didn’t mean he’d had an easy time of it.
But that’s all over now. Now he’s free from his grandfather’s controlling nature. Free to make his own choices in life.
Wasn’t he?
The answer was instant.
Yes—yes, he is. And he’s chosen me.
After all, why else would she be here with him now?
And he’s happy now. I know he is! Anyone can see that—anyone at all.
She felt her spirits lift and that precious emotion that she hugged so close welling through her, washing towards him, embracing him.
He’ll be happy from now on, too. I’ll make sure of it.
His eyes met hers across the table and she saw them soften.
‘So, what shall we do after lunch?’ he asked, his voice holding the cheerful warmth it usually had.
She was glad of it. Glad to respond in kind.
Getting stuck into her spaghetti again, as he was too, she ran over some of the attractions she’d read about in Trastevere.
‘There’s the old ghetto area, and the Basilica di Santa Maria, which my guidebook says has mosaics by Cavallini—of whom, I admit freely, I have never previously heard, but which look beautiful in the photos. Or we could go to the Galleria Corsini,’ she ran on enthusiastically. ‘Which is, apparently, a baroque palace with paintings by Titian and Caravaggio, of whom I definitelyhaveheard!’ She looked at Dante a little anxiously. ‘But if you’re bored we don’t have to,’ she assured him.
‘Let’s see everything while we’re here,’ he answered cheerfully.
The shuttered look, and the long shadows cast by the past, had all gone from his face, reassuring Connie.
