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She dressed. It seemed wrong to be pulling on a red dress when Geo was dead, but she had a black one back at the hotel she could change into.
Aurora wanted to help, and so she thought about what Marianna would do—she would pack, of course, except Nico had not even unpacked.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked as he came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist to the sight of Aurora going through his wardrobe.
‘Finding a black suit…’
‘I can manage.’
‘And a black tie…’
‘Aurora, go back to work—get on with your job.’
‘Work?’ She swung around and looked at him aghast. ‘How selfish of you! Do you really think we can all carry on working now? We have lost someone too.’
‘Cut me some slack, Aurora. I’m not thinking straight.’
He was hanging on by his fingernails even as she turned away in that red dress with tears streaming down her face. It dizzied his mind.
Where the hell was the calm wife from their game? The one who’d pour him a drink and leave him to spend these first moments on earth without his father alone.
Where was the demure woman who would accept his silence and lack of outward grief?
He would like to take Aurora back to bed, right now. To close the drapes and to weep.
‘Oh, Nico…’
She was crying again and, frankly, he would have liked to join her.
‘Aurora, go back to the hotel. I am going to make some phone calls and then I will be flying back to Silibri.’
‘I’ll go and pack.’ Aurora nodded. Now her phone was ringing. She saw that it was Pino, but did not answer. ‘They will all have heard and be wondering what to do.’ She looked from her phone to Nico. ‘Shall I meet you back at the hotel?’
‘Sorry?’ He really was not thinking straight. ‘Why?’
‘Nico, we will be returning to Silibri with you, of course.’
‘Aurora, what you guys do is up to you—but I need to get back now.’
‘So do we scramble to get a flight and the cuccette while you fly in your big plush helicopter alone?’
He sighed, defeated. ‘Of course not.’
His driver offered condolences, and in the hotel lobby stood Marianna, looking grim. There too were the Silibri contingent, all dressed in black.
‘No one is better prepared for death than a Sicilian,’ Aurora commented.
Even in grief she could still make him smile.
‘Royalty travel with black outfits too,’ Nico pointed out.
‘Not always,’ Aurora said, and Nico gave a soft laugh.
She disappeared and returned fifteen minutes later, showered and changed, wearing no make up, and he could tell there had been a fresh batch of tears.
Those stunning locks had been washed and her hair was now pulled back in a severe low bun. Her dress was black, as were her shoes, and those gorgeous legs were encased in black stockings.
Yes, these Sicilians were more prepared for death than the Queen of England. And none of them had ever been in a helicopter, which meant there were a lot of shouts and nervous laughter as they took off.
