Their first course had arrived, but Jodie discovered
that she had lost her appetite a little.
'what’s wrong?' Lorenzo asked her.
'I Don’t feel happy about the idea of wearing a
valuable piece of jewellery,' she told him truthfully.
'Especially not some kind of family heirloom. What
if I were to lose it?'
'I am the head of my family and you are to be my
bride. It will be expected that you will wear the family
betrothal ring,' Lorenzo told her firmly.
'couldn’t you have a copy made or something?'
Jodie persisted.
Lorenzo started to frown. 'If it concerns you so
much, then I shall think about it. Now, eat your dinner—
otherwise Carlo will think that you do not like
his food, and to a Florentine that is a very great insult.'
The next morning Lorenzo allowed Jodie a little more
time to gaze in awe at her surroundings as they
walked through the city to his bank. She was wearing
some of her new clothes — an outfit she had privately
labelled Roman Holiday, because it comprised a pair
of linen Capri pants in a mixture of creams and tans
that sat low on her hips, teamed with a plain tan top.
Woven wedges with tan ties and a quirky little bag
completed the outfit, to which Jodie had been forced
by the bright morning sunshine to add her own sunglasses.
Although she was too engrossed in her surroundings
to be aware of the admiring male glances she
was collecting, Lorenzo most certainly wasn’t.
Remembered bitterness darkened his eyes. Women
were too vulnerable to the flattery of other men and
their own egos, as he already knew. But it didn’t matter
to him how many other men found Jodie desirable,
did it? He had no feelings for her, and nor was he
going to allow himself to develop any.
'This way.'
Lorenzo’s curt instruction reminded Jodie of how
much she disliked and resented his arrogance. She felt
nothing but pity for the poor woman who did eventually
become his 'real' wife, she decided.
Nowadays Florence might be famous for its works
of art, but there had been a time when its fame had
rested on the reputation of its bankers — of whom the
Medici family had been members, Jodie remembered
as they stepped into the cool, cathedral-like sombreness
of Lorenzo’s bank.
The formalities appertaining to the opening of a
bank account for her were soon dealt with, allowing
them to be taken down a marble stairway to an impressive
pillared and gilded room patrolled by two
armed guards. They were given a key and escorted to
one of several small private rooms, furnished with a
table and several chairs. Here they had to wait for the
vault manager and one of the armed guards to return
with a locked safety deposit box, which was put on
the desk in front of Lorenzo. He then produced a key
and inserted it into the lock. Only then did the manager
and the guard leave them to lock themselves in
the small room.
Only the hum of the air-conditioning broke the silence
as Lorenzo turned the key. She was, Jodie discovered,
actually holding her breath.
Lorenzo lifted the lid of the box. Quickly Jodie
looked away. She had very mixed feelings about old
and priceless jewellery. For one thing, it always
seemed to possess a dark and tainted history — if not
because of the way it had been mined, then often
because of the acts of cruelty and greed of those people
who had wanted to possess it. No wonder priceless
stones were so often said to be cursed.
Lorenzo looked down into the box. The last time
it had been opened had been following the death of
his mother. He had a savage impulse to slam the lid
shut, to take Jodie by the hand and to go out into the
bright warmth of the sunshine. But he could not do
that. He was a Montesavro, and the head of his family,
and besides, what ghosts — if there were such
things — could possibly lurk here, in this piece of
metal? His fingers closed round the familiar faded
velvet box he remembered from his childhood.
'Here it is,' he told Jodie brusquely, closing the
safety deposit box and relocking it before opening the
ring box.
'There is a legend that when the woman who wears
this ring is pure the stone glows with a particular clarity.
My mother always claimed that it was the stone
itself that was clouded,' he added cynically, as Jodie
stared in disbelief at the huge rectangular emerald surrounded
by white flashing diamonds.
'I can’t possibly wear that,' she protested. 'I’d be
terrified of losing it. I wouldn’t feel safe unless I had
an armed guard with me. It must be worth…' She
shook her head, and Lorenzo frowned, recognising
not awed excitement in her voice at the thought of
the ring's value but instead shocked distaste. A
woman who felt distaste rather than excitement at the
thought of wearing expensive jewellery? Such a
woman was so far removed from his own experience
that he hadn’t imagined one might exist.
