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‘But why the rope above the female’s bed, then, if she couldn’t use it?’ Dante’s mind was clearly lingering in its usual space. ‘I guess it depends on who ruled at the time. So if I were King, I’d summon you. If you were Queen...’
‘You’d have to wait for my command.’
He pulled a face. ‘I don’t think I’d be a very good Queen’s consort... No. Mind you, the truth is I do prefer to sleep alone.’
‘Really?’ She frowned in disbelief. ‘That’s not what I gleaned...’
‘I’m not talking about sex.’ He gave her a smile, his lazy evening conversation unfolding. ‘Of course it would be rude to say so after the event, but if I could, then, yes, I would have sex and then return to my suite or she to hers. I hate the noise of another person and the feel of them by my side...’
‘Truly?’
He nodded. ‘I can’t sleep—not properly.’
‘Well, I love it,’ Alicia admitted, and then coloured a little. ‘I mean...’ Gosh, she didn’t want him knowing that their one afternoon had been her only time. ‘Even when I was little it made me feel safe, hearing Beatrice and knowing she was there. I love the sound of someone breathing...’
‘I can leave my door open and snore if you’d like.’
‘Yes, please.’
‘I was joking.’
‘Well, I wasn’t,’ Alicia admitted. ‘I hate silence at night. It reminds me too much of the room after Beatrice had gone, and how—’
She stopped, not able to tell him how she had cried when he’d left at fourteen and there had been no one to hear. Not at eighteen, though. For a little while she had been so glad to hug that secret to her and close her eyes to the memory of them. All that had stopped abruptly when the baby had been born.
‘I hate sleeping alone.’
‘Don’t tell anyone that.’ He looked over. ‘Guys, I mean.’
‘What’s it to you?’
‘Just some free advice,’ he said.
Their tongues were growing looser now, and more honesty was creeping in as the lights started to darken in the distance. Sicily was retiring as they stayed lingering over the view.
‘I can also tell you why things don’t work out in your relationships...’
‘Oh, you can?’
He nodded assuredly.
‘Go ahead.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Please do.’
‘Well, you’re beautiful, funny, and the sex is...’ He gave a very Italian wave with his hand.
‘But?’
‘You fall hard.’
‘No.’
‘Alicia.’ He looked right at her. ‘Your devotion is instant. Beatrice is a case in point—ten years on you’re still searching for her.’
She managed a half-laugh and then just stared at the moon—which then gave in to Dante Schininà too, for it hid behind a cloud for a moment’s pause as Dante confirmed his findings.
