Full Moon in Florence (17 page)

“Who was that?” said Colin to Laine. The bodyguards had let Antonio and Colin go now that the police were giving the orders.

“
Mrs.
Montrecetti,” said Laine, glaring at Lorenzo, who was now following his wife up the dock ramp. Antonio followed Lorenzo, his arms flailing with accusations and explanations. The police were herding everyone up to the balcony and into the rowing club. Colin and Laine were the last on the dock.

“I’m sorry about all that,” said Laine,

“No,
I’m
sorry. What in bloody hell was Antonio trying to do there?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but I think he was just trying to piss off his brother.”

“Bloody mad. He ruined a valuable piece of art. I’m sorry I got mixed up with the likes of him.”

Laine thought about her close call with Lorenzo. It might have been normal for him to run off to Tuscany with various mistresses, but Laine had no interest in being one of them.

“I think the whole family’s a bit mad.”

“Crazy Italians,” said Colin, shaking his head. Little water droplets fell onto his lapels. Even wet as a drowned rat, he looked remarkably handsome all dressed up.

“You’re shivering,” said Laine, putting her hand on his arm.

“But I’m not cold,” said Colin. “Not anymore.” He wrapped his sodden arms around Laine. She let him, feeling his damp jacket soak into her pink dress.

“We need to get you out of these wet clothes,” she murmured.

“My thoughts exactly. But first…”

The full moon shone down over Florence. Moonlight sparkled off the Arno and lit up Colin’s green eyes as he stared at Laine. Then he closed his eyes, bent down, and gave her a river-scented kiss that warmed them both from head to toe.

Colin

Colin would have liked that kiss to have gone on all night, but the police were ushering all the guests out of the club. They held onto the The Montrecetti brothers though. It turned out that neither brother had disclosed the details of their grandfather’s estate to the proper authorities. All the artwork was being seized for the time being.

Lorenzo was too busy being interrogated to think about sending his car to drive Laine back to the hotel and other guests were snapping up taxis.

“Shall we walk?” said Colin. “It’s not too far.”

“Are you comfortable enough?”

It was a balmy late May evening. He slipped out of his damp jacket and led the way out to the street. The moon was still high and bright. He took Laine’s hand.

“Neither of us will get the painting now,” said Laine.

“I’m sorry if this badly affects your career,” said Colin.

“Are you really?” She gave him a wry look. “You were prepared to steal it out from under my nose.”

Colin shook his head. “That was
not
my idea. Antonio’s to blame for that.”

“You jumped into the river to save it.”

“Of course I did. It’s a
Botticelli
. But I was trying to save it for you.” He gave her a ‘you-should-be-pleased-with-me smile’.

She scoffed.

“I’m dead serious,” said Colin. “I was prepared to let you have it, even if Antonio wasn’t.”

“But whatever would Lady Allbright say?”

Colin would have to send Keenan an email to tell him the bad news about losing the painting.

After this fiasco, he’d probably lose Lady Allbright as a client, but it was a small sacrifice compared to what he’d gained. There’d be other clients, other trips, other paintings, but there was only one Laine.

“The fact is, we were both caught up in an Italian family feud. There was no way it would end well. They never do.”

Though, for Colin, the fact that he had Laine’s hand to hold, her lips to kiss, meant this night was was ending well for him. Despite jumping into the river, he didn’t care that much about the painting. He cared about it as a work of art —it was a rare treasure—but from now on nothing would ever be as valuable and beautiful to him as Laine.

“You’re probably right. Mark and Tina will be so disappointed.”

“Disappointed enough to stuff a Molotov cocktail down your breeches?”

“What?”

“Nothing,” said Colin, hiding a smile. “I’m guessing they’ll get over it. You did everything you could. You even let that scoundrel wine and dine you.”

She stopped and turned to face him. The moonlight made her skin shine like porcelain.

“Nothing else happened, Colin. You believe me, right?”

Looking into her wide brown eyes, he remembered her slapping Lorenzo on the dock. “I do now. And you have to know that no one back in London holds any temptation for me. I’m going to fire Rudi as a friend.” He was serious about that. Rudi had nearly ruined everything.

“Keep your friends,” said Laine. “It was my own insecurities that made me leap to conclusions. And that’s why I slipped away the other morning. I just didn’t quite believe that I would be enough for you.”

“When I saw you eating lunch with Lorenzo I assumed you had chosen him over me. I thought this whole thing was just a matter of convenience to you.”

Laine shook her head. “Not at all. It’s so much more.” Her cheeks were flushed and she bit her lip, as if she were holding something back.

“What is it?”

She looked up at him, uncertainty in her eyes. “Do you think two people can build something real out of a one night stand?” She blinked. “I mean, a two night stand?”

Colin gathered her into his arms. Grinning, he said, “Let’s try for three and see what happens.”

She didn’t fully surrender to his embrace. “I’m serious, Colin. What are we doing here?”

He tilted his head back and looked at the moon. “I think if one person’s willing to fly half way across the world and another’s willing to buy cock rings and timeshares in Goa…”

At this point she gave him a very quizzical look.

“…Then I think, yes, there is a very good chance to build something bigger.”

He didn’t want to come right out and say he’d follow her back to San Francisco in a heartbeat. He knew there were more things to consider, but one thing he was not willing to consider was waiting another three months to see Laine again.

He sealed that thought with a deep, promising kiss. But even with Laine’s arms around him and the mild May temperature, Colin now started shivering.

“Let’s go inside,” she murmured.

Laine

Signora Natalia was still awake when they got back to the hotel. She bustled out of the sitting room, her cheeks rosy, her hair a little mussed. Giammo shuffled out behind her. He had lipstick smeared across one cheek. He smiled and clasped his hands to his chest when he saw Colin and Laine. “
Amore vero
. Just like she said.”

The Signora shook her head when she saw Colin’s clothes. “I’ll get everything dry cleaned, I promise,” he said sheepishly.

“It doesn’t matter,” said the Signoria. “It’s my small sacrifice for love.”

“Why do you keep saying stuff like that?”

The Signora eyed him. “Because that is the way of life and love. To love and to live you must be willing to offer something valuable or meaningful and let it be transformed into something new.”

Colin looked down at his rumpled dress clothes. “I don’t see how this applies.”

The Signora raised an eyebrow. “What was happening before you got wet? And what happened after? Were things different?”

Colin looked at Laine. They shared a smile. “Quite,” he said.

“There you go,” said the Signora, clapping her hands together.

Under his breath, Colin muttered, “Crazy Italians.”

To cover his muttering, Laine said,

“I think we’re ready for one room now.”

Signora Natalia beamed. “
Meraviglioso
! Which will it be?”

“The room with the view?” said Laine questioning Colin.

He shrugged. “Either is fine with me.”

“Wait, do you have a room with a bathtub
and
a view?” said Laine to the Signora.

“No, I’m sorry. Nothing with both.”

Laine frowned. How to choose? Then she grinned. Why choose?

“Then we’ll keep both.”

Colin turned to her, confusion in his beautiful green eyes.

“Let’s enjoy
my
view and
your
bathtub,” said Laine. “We’ll go back and forth. The best of both worlds.”

“If you like,” he said.

Laine nodded. At the back of her mind she knew they really did have two worlds to contend with now. Her world in San Francisco and his world in London. She wasn’t sure how they would work all that out, but they would have to face it eventually. For now, Florence was their shared world, at least for a few more days.

“So I won’t change anything?” said the Signora.

“Nope,” said Laine, turning to Colin. “Now, let’s get you out of those wet clothes and into a warm bath, Mr. Ellington.”

The Signora lifted an eyebrow, smiled, and went back to the sitting room with a grinning Giammo. Together they whistled an opera tune, in harmony.

Laine led the way over to the elevator, which was humming with its descent toward the lobby.

“The way I figure it,” said Laine leaning conspiratorially toward Colin’s damp shoulder. “Is that with two rooms, we have two beds, which means we’ll need to use them twice as much, don’t you agree?”

Colin’s lips quirked up into an amused smile. “I’m liking your train of thought, Miss Dixon.” He kissed her forehead. She slid her fingers up the back of his head, where they tangled in his hair, and then she pulled his face toward hers until their lips met.

After a deep, hungry kiss, Laine leaned back and said, “After your bath, I think we should start right away, don’t you?”

Colin answered with another kiss, this one hotter, hungrier.

The elevator doors opened. The German couple emerged and had to step around them. Laine thought she heard them chuckling. And somewhere in the background, the Signora chirped, “I’ll pour your sherry, Herr and Frau Lehman.”

Colin and Laine, still kissing, stumbled their way into the elevator. They had most of their clothes off by the time they reached the first bed.

Laine

The next morning, Laine woke up before Colin. She watched him sleep for several minutes. She could imagine doing this for weeks, for years, maybe even a lifetime…

She bit her lip. She had to be careful not to get ahead of herself. After all, they hardly knew each other. Then she smiled to herself. She decided she was not going to let that stop her from loving Colin. They may still have a lot to learn about each other, but there was one thing she knew without question: she loved him.

Laine tiptoed down to the lobby in search of the Signora. Even though it was very early, she was whistling behind the front desk. She smiled when she saw Laine’s robe and tousled hair.

“Ah, I see the flush of love in your cheeks.” Signora Natalia grinned. “What can I do for you, Bambina?”

“Would it be possible to take two cappuccino’s up to the room?”

She winked. “Of course. Wait in the sitting room.” She bustled off to the back.

The sitting room was mostly empty except for one man sitting in one of the wing-backed chairs. She recognized his profile.

“Lorenzo? What are you doing here?”

“Miss Dixon.” He stood up and smiled. “I was prepared to wait all day if I had to, but here you are bright and early.”

Laine touched her messy hair. She was terribly underdressed — she was
barely
dressed.

“You could have called or emailed.”

“I wanted to apologize in person.”

“Apologize?”

He motioned for her to sit down in the chair across from him. She sat on the edge of the chair and held her hands in her lap.

“The Italian government plans to seize all of the most important pieces for the Italian museums. I’m so sorry, Miss Dixon, but the Botticelli, once restored, will be among those confiscated. Such a disappointment.”

“For me, yes, but what about your ancestors?” She lifted an eyebrow.

He shrugged. “With any luck the ghost of my grandfather will curse the government, but what can I do?”

She had to smile. Lorenzo’s Italian passion was spent wildly in love and sibling rivalry but dampened considerably in the face of bureaucracy.

“The government doesn’t just take them for nothing, do they?”

“Our family will be given a stipend for each piece they acquire, but it’s a paltry sum compared to market value. Of course, the family name will in the museums and we will be honored with a plaque and other tokens over the years. Antonio is livid, of course, and he’s not speaking to me, though he’s spending an awful lot of time with my wife…” He stroked his jaw, not quite as clean-shaven as it had been last night. Had he even slept?

“I suppose this way your grandfather’s collection will be displayed in museums in Italy for everyone to see, right?”

Lorenzo frowned. “Not necessarily. You see, we have so many pieces in this country now, there isn’t room to display them all, so much of it is in storage. If you had taken the Botticelli back to San Francisco, it probably would have been the center of a collection, no?”

Laine nodded. That was true. She had been really looking forward to designing that collection, and securing the Botticelli acquisition would have taken her career in a new direction. She let go of that idea for now. She had other things to be happy about. She glanced toward the lobby, hoping the Signora wouldn’t take too much longer. She didn’t want Colin to wake up while she was gone.

“Can you ever forgive me for dragging you all this way and sending you home empty handed?”

Laine’s hands might go home empty but her heart was full to bursting.

Lorenzo looked into her eyes. “And can you forgive me for … my feelings? You really are so beautiful. I couldn’t help myself. Any man would have done the same in my position.”

She raised an eyebrow. She doubted that.

“I was very flattered, Lorenzo.” She didn’t mention that for a few fleeting minutes she’d also been
tempted
. “But you’re a married man, with a beautiful wife, and I don’t belong in Italy…”

“
And
you love someone else,” said Lorenzo, sighing. “I could see it in your eyes last night on the dock. That British man who knows my brother, the one who dove in to save the painting.”