Under the hand, I see a smile.
“Beautiful,” he says, his eyes lighting up with something new. “Just beautiful. We’ll buy it.”
“Wait,” I say. “It’s only the first dress!”
“Do you love the way it looks and feels?”
I catch sight of myself in another mirror across the room and nod. “I do,” I have to admit.
“Then we buy it,” Marco says, drawing a credit card out of his wallet and handing it to the assistant. “And if you love the way the others look and feel too, we buy them. Whatever you want. You get it all today.”
I don’t know what to say. “But, Marco…” I start. It’s too much. Surely, it’s too much.
“No buts,” Marco tells me. “Remember. Today is your special day. Everything you want.”
I’m so overwhelmed, I just don’t know what to say. But the assistant is saying something to me and pushing me back into the changing room, and so I simply do as I’m told and go try on the next outfit.
I try to temper Marco’s generosity with my own desires, after all, I don’t need this many new clothes just because they’re being offered, and I don’t want to take all of his money just because he offered it. In the end, we walk out of the store with two dresses and a blouse – and just when I think we’re done, Marco leads me next door, to a famous Italian shoe brand.
By the time we’ve been through several more stores and had lunch, I feel as though I have a whole new wardrobe. I can’t imagine needing anything more, and with a new necklace clasped around my throat, Marco unloads the rest into his car – though I’m surprised the tiny trunk can fit it all.
And we still aren’t done.
“This way,” Marco says, taking me by the arm. “There are still some parts of Rome you haven’t seen, yes? We can’t let you miss out on those.”
So we find ourselves in the Roman Forum, mixing amongst the other tourists and tour groups, Marco helping me pick my way amongst them as we get to see all of the best parts.
“And this,” he says. “Is where Julius Caesar was murdered. It happened right here.”
“Right here?” I murmur, staring at the spot he is pointing to. “Wow.” I try to picture it, happening so long ago. The buildings here are in ruins. It almost seems strange, to be in a country with a history that dates back so far before when mine was even born. There is so much to look at, around every corner and in every alleyway.
A stray cat wanders across the road when we emerge once more, just one of the many we’ve seen around here. I want to pet them all, though Marco already warned me that most of them carry disease and pests. It makes me sad to think of them having to get by on their own, without medical treatment or a loving owner to scratch their ears.
“Well, are you satisfied with history for today?” Marco asks. “We could carry on.”
“No,” I tell him, smiling. “I think I’m satisfied. That was a lot to see already.”
“Then let’s go,” he says, taking my arm to steer me back to where we last left the car.
“Go where?” I ask my heart rate quickening. Is this it?
“Home, of course,” Marco says, with a smirk, keeping his eyes straight ahead as he teases me.
Home… like his home? I keep my mouth shut and focus on walking, while in my mind, so many different things are flashing through, mostly the thought of seeing his home, and his bed, the place where he sleeps – the place where…
Is it going to happen now?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Marco
I drive the familiar route back home, to my own place. Just outside the city of Rome, close enough that I can go to work easily but far enough from the center that I can have some peace and quiet. The home I’ve worked for all of my life to create.
It’s one of my main sources of pride and joy, for now at least. Gates encircle an area of private land that contains the house, a gravel drive in front where I can park several cars, and a yard out the back that includes a pool and pool house.
I take the opportunity to glance to the side whenever it’s safe to catch Hannah’s reaction. Her eyes are wide as she takes it all in, craning her neck to look all the way up to the top of the house as we pull in closer. I had the house built to my own specifications, with wide glass spaces letting in plenty of light but shading the viewer from seeing inside, dark brickwork, and an impressive architecture right up to the roof, which I had made to resemble a traditional Italian castle.
This is my castle, after all – the place where I’m lord and master. And I don’t usually allow people to come here. Only Fran has ever seen it, except for those I employ to do work around the house because it is a sacred space for me. Too special to share with anyone but the most important in my life.
And now Hannah is here, about to come inside with me and take her claim on a life by my side.
I step out of the car and rush to Hannah’s side, to open the door and help her out. Then I turn towards my home with her hand on my arm, about to lead her inside. Size-wise, in fact, it should correctly be called a villa – especially since we are here in Italy, the seat of the empire which made the villa-style famous around the world.
“It’s beautiful,” Hannah says, her face filled with wonder. A moment later she must realize that she spoke without thinking because she continues awkwardly. “I mean, your home,
