of her.
As his hand began to drift lower she took a slow breath, eagerly yielding to her sensations.
And then, just as the world began to dissolve, leaving behind only him, it was all taken away. She felt him freeze, then withdraw from her.
Reluctantly Justine opened her eyes and found him looking at her tensely. His breathing was harsh and uneven, and she could feel the strain that racked his whole body.
'What is it?' she whispered. 'What's the matter?'
'The matter is that this is not right,' he growled.
'How can it be wrong if it's what we both want?'
'Is it? Can you look me in the eyes and say that you truly want me, as I want you? Or are you saying to yourself, I've gone too far to turn back now? Tell me the truth, Justine. I need to know.'
Chapter Twelve
Riccardo's words made Justine feel as if he could see right into her. She couldn't bear that scrutiny, and closed her eyes. Understanding everything in that gesture, he rose sharply to his feet and moved away from her.
'This is not how it must be between us,' he insisted.
'Why do you have to analyze everything?' she cried. 'Leave the inside of my head alone. What happens in there is nothing to you.'
'If you were just a brief fling that might be true. But you matter. I want to make love to you more than I've ever wanted anything in my life, but it has to be all of you, your heart and your mind, as well as your body.'
'Maybe I don't have all that to give. Why can't you be satisfied with what there is?'
'Because you're worth so much more,' he said simply.
He went to the trapdoor and held out his hand to her. 'Come.'
'Where?'
'I'm taking you home.'
There was nothing to do but agree. The night was suddenly dead. On the way down he collected one of his jackets, and slipped it about her shoulders.
'Where are we going?' she asked, for he didn't turn toward the landing stage.
'It's only a short walk. The boat brought us almost in a circle, and now the palazzo is just a few streets away.'
'How quiet everything is,' she said, listening to their feet echoing on the flagstones.
'This is the best time,' he said, 'when the people have gone in, and the ghosts come out.'
'Ghosts?'
'Venice is full of ghosts. They haunt the corners and the little alleyways in the twilight. But don't be afraid. They're friendly ghosts. In Venice they have known love, and been happy, and now they cannot bear to leave it.'
She tried to be sensible. It would be easy to become drunk with the words of this charming dreamer. But being sensible didn't really seem very important any more.
What was important was to stroll through these narrow alleys, letting him weave magic spells around her. There would be time for common sense later.
After a while he fell silent, but the magic continued in the unearthly quiet of a city where there were no cars.
His arm was around her shoulders, drawing her close so that she was intimately aware of the warmth of his body. The stress of the evening fell away, and a blessed calm fell over her. Desire had passed into tenderness, giving her a space that she badly needed.
'Here we are,' he said at last.
'Where?'
'The Palazzo Calvani. This is a side door. You must ring the bell, but not just yet.'
He stroked her face with gentle fingers.
'When the weddings are over, promise me that you will not leave without seeing me again.'
'I promise,' she whispered contentedly.
After the evening's stormy, unfulfilled passion, he now kissed her like a boy on his first date, lips caressing hers almost uncertainly, if such a word could be associated with this man.
She relaxed into the warmth and tenderness that he offered, not wanting it to end.
It was he who drew back. 'Good night,' he murmured.
'Good night,' Justine whispered back – with just a hint of wistfulness.
He rang a bell by the door.
'The porter will let you in. Good night.'
He moved away swiftly and was out of sight before the porter admitted her. Justine hurried up to her room.
At the turn in the stairs there was a half-open window that looked out over the street where they had said goodbye. She could see the place where they had stood together, and wondered where he was now.
Then she saw something that might have been a shadow, standing by the corner. She blinked, and the shadow vanished, only to reappear. Surely it was her imagination? For a moment she had thought the shadow was familiar, and that he was gazing directly up at the window, as though reluctant to leave her. But when she looked again, he was gone, as elusive as a ghost.
Chapter Thirteen
Guido's cousin Marco arrived from Rome, bringing his English fiancee, Harriet.
Marco was one of the most handsome men Justine had ever seen, but, while perfectly civil, he had a distant air.
'Harriet and Marco are rather cool for an engaged couple,' Justine observed to Dulcie. 'They're not like you and Guido.'
'It's not precisely a love match,' Dulcie said. 'Harriet is the granddaughter of his mother's oldest friend.'
'You mean they're not in love?'
Dulcie chuckled. 'They think they aren't.'
The last one to arrive was Leo, Guido's half brother, an amiable young giant whom Justine liked immediately. He arrived in Venice direct from Texas, where he'd been visiting a ranching friend, enjoying himself riding and 'fooling around' as he put it.
Justine gathered that he'd also met Selena, a rodeo rider who'd made more of an impression on him than he wanted to admit. Dulcie and Harriet promptly settled down to grill him about her, until he grinned sheepishly and escaped.
'I'll swear he was blushing,' Justine chuckled.
Dulcie nodded. 'I don't think we've heard the last of Selena.'
She seemed to be floating to her wedding on a tide of serene happiness. Liza, by contrast, was in a state of nerves, suddenly declaring that she needed help with the food.
'But she wouldn't hear of it the first time,' Justine protested.
'I know,' said Dulcie, 'but she liked Riccardo, so I think it's an excuse to send some more work his way. Also,' she added with a significant glance at Justine, 'I think she may be doing some matchmaking.'
'I can't imagine why,' Justine said stiffly.
'Well it's your own fault. If you will hurl yourself into a boat driven by a ludicrously attractive man, spend the night with him -'
'I did not spend the night with him – not the way you mean, anyway.'
