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‘You’re sure?’
‘Very,’ Aurora said, and then thought about it some more. ‘We’ll go back often,’ she added, and then she looked over to him. ‘And, of course, I would like to manage the temple weddings.’
‘You don’t give in, do you?’
‘Never,’ Aurora said. ‘Not when I know I am right.’
She had tried to give up on their love so many times and to let Nico go. She thought of her tears, and the coin-toss at the Trevi Fountain when she had begged to be made love to in Rome.
‘I want that job, Nico.’
‘Then you shall have it.’
‘I don’t want favours, though,’ she said as she lay in his bed. ‘I really am the best for that role.’
She was also, Aurora knew, the best for his heart.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘LISTEN TO ME, NICO…’
Of all the bizarre moments in Nico’s life, this possibly earned top billing: Pino giving him marital advice.
As it turned out, Nico wasn’t the last in his family.
He still had many of them. Not blood relatives, perhaps, but neither would he introduce them as friends, for they were so much more.
‘You have to keep the romance,’ Pino said. ‘I have been married to Rosa for thirty years, so listen when I give you advice. Even if it has not been a good day, you have to find a way to enjoy the night.’
‘I can do that.’ Nico nodded.
‘And you have to dance,’ Francesca added. ‘Often.’
But Nico dismissed that suggestion with a shake of his head. ‘I don’t dance.’
It was three hours until sunset, and while Aurora was having all her treatments in the oratory, he was in the café on the hill with the Silibri contingent.
‘Aurora can dance. She can dance very well,’ Francesca said. ‘You cannot let her down.’
And who knew that Vincenzo just happened to have been a ballroom champion, or a tango master, or something along those lines, a decade ago?
But Vincenzo wasn’t a kind teacher.
Vincenzo was impatient, and exacting, and Nico could never have imagined he would spend the hours before his wedding dancing with a man in a butterscotch suit.
‘And there will be the tarantella,’ Francesca said.
Nico frowned. He’d rather avoided weddings.
Until now.
Luigi had been brought in for this very special day, but instead of an elegant chignon, or snaky curls, Aurora chose to wear her hair loose and long.
Her make-up was for the most part subtle, but she asked Luigi to go to town with the eyeliner.
‘Not just yet,’ Luigi said, and glanced up. ‘There’s a surprise for you!’
‘What?’
