by Dani Collins
‘I don’t even know how to answer,’ she admitted. ‘I am taken care of. I have an apartment in Paris and I will never have to work.’ She gave a tired shrug. ‘Does that mean it went well?’
‘Ariana,’ he cut in, and his hand reached for her arm but she pulled it back.
Not because she didn’t want physical contact, more because of how much she did. ‘I should go and say my farewells.’
‘Are you sure you want to come back to Rome tonight?’
‘Not really.’
‘Your family are all here,’ Gian pointed out. ‘Wouldn’t it be better to spend time with them?’
‘Yes, but I think Mamma needs me. She feels so out of place here.’
It was a subdued little group that flew back to Rome. Gian’s car was waiting at the airport and he gave Angela’s address to the driver.
‘Ariana, darling,’ her mother said, ‘I have the most terrible headache. I think I might just head home to bed. After I’ve been dropped off, Gian’s driver will take you home.’
‘But, Mamma, I thought I was to stay with you tonight.’
Gian heard the strain in Ariana’s voice. She was clearly asking to be with her mother, rather than offering to take care of her, although Angela, just as clearly, chose not to hear it as that. ‘Ariana, I know you’re worried about me but right now all I really need is some peace.’
Gian gritted his jaw because he could see the manipulative behaviour, pulling Ariana away from the rest of the family just because she could when she’d always intended to spend the evening with Thomas, her lover.
He knew now that he loathed Angela because she was as selfish as his own mother had been.
‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ Angela said to her daughter as she got out of the car. ‘Thank you, Gian, for seeing us home.’
Eternally polite, usually he would have wished her well and forced himself to kiss her cheeks, but the best he could manage was a curt nod.
As the driver closed the door, he looked over at Ariana. She was staring straight ahead and there was the sparkle of unshed tears in her eyes that he knew were waiting to fall the very second she was alone. ‘Let’s get you home,’ Gian said as the car pulled away.
‘I don’t want to go home.’ Ariana shook her head and blinked back the tears. ‘I might call Nicki.’
Ariana’s friend Nicki ran rather wild and she would undoubtedly prescribe a night of drinking and clubbing as a cure for Ariana’s troubled heart. ‘How come Nicki wasn’t at the funeral?’ he asked.
‘She only got back from skiing this afternoon.’ Ariana scrabbled in her purse for her phone. ‘She’d have come if she could.’
Gian doubted it.
Nicki liked the galas and balls, and the spoils of being Ariana’s friend, but where was she now when her friend needed her most?
Gian did not quite know what to do.
If it were Stefano, or Dante, or even Angela—who he didn’t even like—Gian would suggest a drink at the hotel, or a walk perhaps. Conversation or silence, whatever they chose.
But this was Ariana.
He wished he hadn’t noticed her beauty, or the colour of her eyes.
Gian wished he could snap his fingers and return them to a time when she had been just the annoying little sister of a friend, the daughter of his beloved mentor... That thought had him stepping up to do the right thing, for he did not want Ariana in questionable company tonight. ‘Would you like to come back to La Fiordelise for a drink, or something to eat perhaps?’
‘I...’ His offer was so unexpected. Gian usually made her feel like an annoying presence, always trying to cut short their time together, and now it was he who was offering to extend it. ‘I don’t want to impose.’
‘It doesn’t normally stop you...’ Gian teased, but then, seeing her frown, realised that even the lightest joke wasn’t registering. ‘It would be my pleasure,’ he said. ‘I just need to make a quick call.’
Ariana pretended not to listen as he cancelled his date for the night. And his date for the night did not take it well.
‘Svetlana,’ he said, and Ariana blinked at the slight warning edge to his tone as she looked out at the dark streets. ‘Not now.’
And that slight warning edge had her stomach clenching and a small flush rising to her cheeks. She looked at Gian, who appeared incredibly bored at the unfolding drama.
Yes, drama, for she could hear the rise in Svetlana’s voice, and foolish, foolish Svetlana, Ariana thought, for she literally watched his impassiveness transform to disdain.
‘Svetlana, I am unable to see you tonight,’ Gian said, and then, when it was clear she had asked why, rather drily he answered, ‘Because I am unable to see you tonight.’
His lack of explanation must have infuriated Svetlana for even with the phone to his ear, Ariana heard her angry retort. ‘When then?’
‘Do I have to spell it out, Svetlana?’
It would appear that he did, and Ariana listened as very coldly and firmly he ended their relationship.
‘Gian,’ she said as they pulled up at La Fiordelise, ‘please, call her back. I can go home. I really didn’t want to make trouble for you...’
‘Forget it.’ He gave a dismissive shrug. ‘We were always going to end.’
In fact, he hadn’t seen Svetlana all week.
Somehow they had bumped through the concert at Teatro dell’Opera but instead of returning to the sumptuous suite behind his office, Gian had taken her home.
‘Why did you break up with her?’ Ariana asked as they stood outside the car beneath the bright entrance lights.
‘Because she wanted more.’
‘More?’
‘She had started to drop into the hotel unannounced,’ he said. Ariana just frowned. ‘And she wanted to come up to my residence...’
Her frown deepened.
‘As well as that, she wanted to come with me to your father’s funeral.’
‘Oh?’ Ariana said, but it was more a question, because she didn’t really understand.
‘As if we were a couple.’ Gian attempted to explain his closed-off life, but clearly still bewildered, Ariana gave the tiniest shake of her head and so he elaborated. ‘She wanted things to progress and that was not what we had agreed.’
‘What did you agree to?’
‘Only the best parts.’ Gian did not soften his words. ‘Dinner in a nice restaurant, a trip to the theatre...’
‘I assume sex?’
‘Correct.’
‘So if not in your residence...’
‘Ariana, I am not discussing this with you. Suffice it to say I never want a relationship.’ He ended the matter. ‘You’re cold, let’s go in.’
‘To the restaurant?’ Ariana asked.
‘I thought the Pianoforte Bar...’
Her eyes narrowed, recalling Svetlana being denied a seat at his restaurant. Despite his kind invitation to keep her company, she knew she was also being kept at arm’s length.
‘No, thank you.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t need the noise of a bar tonight, even one as elegant as yours...’ Ariana fished and she fished, but Gian did not take the bait, nor upgrade her to restaurant status, even as she stood there and sulked. ‘I think I might go for a walk.’
‘In heels?’ Gian frowned.
‘I have my flats in my bag. I’ll be fine on my own,’ she said, waving him away as she took off her heels and went to put her flats on, but where was a marble pillar when you needed one?
Gian would not be waved off, though, and neither was he Prince Charming, for he did not go down on his knees to help, instead offering his arm. ‘Lean on me.’ He took one black stiletto that she handed to him and passed her a flat, and then it was all repeated with the other foot.
‘Let’s walk,’ Gian said.
For Ariana, it felt like
the right choice. Piazza Navona, the grand, elegant square overlooked by La Fiordelise, was beautifully lit. Its fountains were hypnotic and a little of the tension of the day left as they strolled.
It felt different at night.
Or rather it felt different being here with Gian.
His presence was a comforting warmth in the chilly night air and his voice felt like a welcome caress, as he enquired how things were with her brothers.
‘Dante is...’ Ariana let out a long sigh. ‘I don’t know. He’s just been so focused on the funeral. I think it will all hit him afterwards. He and my father were close.’
‘Yes,’ Gian agreed.
‘Well, they were until Mia came along.’
‘They grew close again, once your father became ill,’ Gian pointed out. ‘And Stefano?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Ariana said tightly. ‘You would have to ask Eloa.’ She heard the bitterness in her own voice and screwed her eyes closed, because she had told no one, not even Nicki, how left out she felt. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that.’
‘Yes, you did,’ Gian said gently. ‘I know the two of you are close.’
‘Were close,’ she corrected. ‘I know it sounds childish, but we used to speak every day. Now he calls Eloa, and that’s correct, of course, and how it should be; they’re getting married in May. However...’ She didn’t know how best to describe the loneliness that had descended almost the moment Eloa had been introduced to her and Ariana had felt shut out.
‘You miss him?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘And especially now.’
‘Since your father died?’
‘Before that,’ Ariana admitted. She looked at the moon lighting up the square. If ever there was a time for honesty it was tonight. ‘When our parents broke up it was Stefano I turned to. Papà had eyes only for Mia; he didn’t want me around so much...’
Gian stayed silent, for he knew that wasn’t quite the case. Rafael had found out he was dying and wanted his final years to be spent in peace with Roberto; Mia had been a front of respectability. Of course he could not reveal that and just listened as she continued. ‘But Stefano met Eloa around then,’ Ariana said. ‘I just felt as if everyone I was close to disappeared. I know I have Dante, but he is so much older...’
‘Ancient,’ Gian agreed drily, for he and Dante were the same age.
‘I have Mamma, of course, but...’ She wished he would interrupt, or finish her sentence for her, because it was perhaps not something she should say out loud, yet his continued silence compelled her to speak. ‘I have Mamma, though only on her terms, and it can be a little stifling at times.’
Still he remained silent as they walked.
‘And a little solitary at others,’ Ariana admitted. ‘I thought things were different with Stefano. He’s my twin; I’m used to him being there and I thought, no matter what, we’d still be in each other’s lives. I’m happy for him, I honestly am. I’m just not so happy for me. I’m being selfish, I know. Childish...’
‘Ariana.’ Gian thought for a moment and then decided he could be honest about this much at least. ‘For what it’s worth, I think Stefano is wrong to shut you out.’
Her head turned towards him, her eyes wide with surprise. She’d expected to be scolded or told she was being petty or jealous. Instead he seemed like he was on her side. ‘Really?’
‘From everything I can observe, since Eloa came along he’s dropped everyone and everything. I didn’t realise until today that that also extended to you. Don’t you and Eloa get on?’
‘That’s the ridiculous part,’ Ariana said, relieved to speak about something other than death, and also relieved to share what had been eating at her for months. ‘I like Eloa, I really do. They just don’t seem to want to spend any real time with me.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ She gave a tight shrug, at first closing the conversation but then opening it up in a way he had not anticipated. ‘Were you close to your brother...’ She had to think for a second to recall his name. ‘Eduardo?’
‘No,’ Gian said. At first his answer was final, but she had shared so much with him that he felt it right to share a little more. ‘We were for a while.’
‘Oh.’
‘For a long while I looked up to him. Admired him...’
‘And then?’
‘And then I didn’t.’
He gave her no more.
‘Wait there,’ Gian said. She assumed he had to make a call, perhaps to Svetlana... Maybe he was bored already with the company he had chosen tonight.
Alone for the first time that day, Ariana quietly admitted her deep feelings for him.
Ariana wanted more of Gian.
She wanted to know his kiss. She wanted...more.
More than his kiss...
To know his touch...
To sit holding hands at his table...
The more she admitted to herself, the more honest her admissions became...
She wanted Gian to hold her and she wanted to know how it felt to be made love to by him.
For Gian De Luca to be her first...
It was a reckless thought, though, for by his own admission Gian came with a warning.
But since when had Ariana heeded warnings?
She stared up at Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi—the Fountain of Four Rivers, said to be the most complex of the many fountains in Rome. She looked at the four river gods and then up, ever up, to the tall obelisk that topped it. Her feelings were spinning in her mind as the crush she had on Gian transformed into need.
She loathed being twenty-five with barely a kiss to her name.
Yet while kisses did not excite her, the mere thought of Gian’s kiss did.
‘Here.’ His voice startled her and she looked at the paper cone filled with hot chestnuts that he held out. ‘You looked cold.’
‘You got these for me?’ Gian watched as her pale face broke into a smile, and her eyes shone as if he were handing her a purse of gold. ‘Thank you.’
Hot chestnuts on a cold night had never tasted so good as they sat at the base of the fountain, biting into the salty treats. ‘These are the best I have tasted,’ Ariana said, every single time she ate one.
‘They’re just chestnuts.’ Gian did not really get her enthusiasm for such a familiar winter treat. ‘I used to come down here at night as a child and buy these.’
‘You would sneak out?’ she nudged.
‘No sneaking required.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just that...’ Gian said, and he looked at Ariana, quietly watching the world go by. He knew why he had not left her alone tonight. He knew better than anyone how it felt to be alone in Rome after dark, that frantic search for company, any company, that compelled you to speak to a stranger or hang out with a wayward friend, anything other than return to your room and lie there alone. ‘So...’ he changed the subject and looked over at the stunning Palazzo Pamphili, where the wedding was to be held ‘...you arranged the wedding reception.’
‘I managed to secure the venue,’ Ariana corrected.
‘Good for you.’ He smiled.
His smile was like being handed the earth.
‘Come on,’ he suggested, when they had finished eating, ‘let’s walk.’
They passed the impressive building where a few months from now the wedding would take place. It seemed so wrong that such a celebration would take place and their father would not be there.
‘Are you going?’ she asked, because the idea of him being there really helped. She was so out of the wedding loop she had no real idea if he’d been invited, let alone responded.
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘It’s the weekend of the opening of my Florence hotel so I shall be sending my apologies. I am sure I shan’t be missed.’
You shall be mi
ssed, she wanted to say, but did not know how. ‘I’m kind of dreading it,’ she said, hinting a little that his presence might help.
‘You’ll be just fine,’ Gian said assuredly, and gave her hand a squeeze, yet her fingers were cold beneath his so he held onto them as they walked.
Gian did not do hand-holding.
Ever.
Yet tonight he did.
For a second, Ariana felt as if she were walking in the Tuscan fields in the middle of summer, not sad and frozen in Rome. But then she remembered the reason for his kindness this night, and wondered how it had been for him. ‘You must miss your parents...’ she ventured, though immediately knew she had said the wrong thing for he dropped her hand like a hot coal.
‘I didn’t know them enough to miss them,’ he said, but Ariana refused to be fobbed off.
‘What about your brother?’ she probed, but he was equally unforthcoming.
‘Leave it, Ariana.’
She refused. ‘How did you find out about the...?’ She hesitated, unsure what to call a raging fire on a yacht in the middle of the ocean. ‘The accident?’ she settled for.
‘Hardly an accident,’ Gian retorted, and she heard a trace of bitterness to his tone. ‘With the amount of alcohol and class-A drugs my family consumed, I think it could be called inevitable.’
Ariana was stunned.
She had heard whispers, of course, like little jigsaw pieces of scandal that had been gathered together over dinners and parties, but all too soon scooped up and put away. But now it was Gian himself putting the pieces together and giving her a glimpse.
‘They were renewing their wedding vows?’ Ariana checked.
God, she was persistent. Perhaps it was the emotion of the day, but he found that tonight he didn’t mind. ‘Yes. It sounds romantic, doesn’t it, like the Duke and Fiordelise, but the truth is it was an excuse for a party. They renewed their vows every couple of years,’ Gian said drily. ‘They would fight, they would make up, they would say never again... I got off the hamster wheel and left before then. I was at university, studying architecture. I was asleep in the residences...’
‘You didn’t live at La Fiordelise then?’
‘God, no.’ He gave a hollow laugh. ‘I was more than happy to leave it all behind. Luna came with the police and woke me...’