by Joy, Melita
He chuckled, “well it wasn’t all that long ago and yes of course I remember. To be honest even though I live here it’s been a long while since I’ve visited most of these places. It might be nice for both of us to play tourist.”
“You don’t fit the bill for a regular tourist though?” she stated doubtfully.
“What, even in my jeans?” she glanced down as he had intended. Indian blue denim with subtle smoky lines fitted him well. Even seated she could see that there was just enough room to accommodate his taut thighs before snugging higher emphasising his masculine bulge. With predictability she blushed, “you’ll do,” she muttered.
He laughed naturally delighted at her response; as if he needed any further boost to his ego. He was obviously well aware of his physical attributes. She highly doubted that he’d had a mediocre love life, experienced to the hilt would be closer to the truth. “I just can’t imagine you lining up for hours with the everyday folk, from what I understand our recent economy flight was a one off?”
“Yes you are right and I see no issue with that. If given a choice who would want to wait in lines or travel cramped up when a better alternative was available to them? If you think that makes me a snob, then so be it. You want to know why I was on that plane with you; that’s what your real question is, isn’t it?”
It was true she did want to know, and she wanted him to be forthright. She didn’t mean to interrogate the man she just wanted him to give her the answers she was looking for, offer her some much-needed reassurance. “Yes, it is.”
“Fine, I came to Australia with one purpose that was to find you and marry you.”
Leilani took a breath. She already knew this was the case, but there had still been a miniscule hope that she wasn't manipulated so easily.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but the reality is that for all of Vittorio’s faults he still holds certain values. The succession, passing down his business it’s not an easy thing to even think about for him. I can guarantee you this though, in Vittorio’s mind the only thing that makes sense it to pass it to a blood relative,” he explained.
“If that is the case why did he wait so long to acknowledge me?” she inquired.
“Illness and age would be his current motivators. Up until recently I would hazard a guess that Vittorio didn’t contemplate his mortality. His drive is still very strong as you can see by his recent interactions with him; he is a man who even at his age demands to be in control.”
“Yes, even I can see that. In fact, a conversation I had with him recently left me feeling a little shocked. He is so outdated it isn’t funny,” she scowled.
Renato laughed, “Welcome to the world of Vittorio. I bet you feel as though you’ve stepped back fifty years. On one hand I agree he has old values yet on the other hand he is still an astute business man. Even with my extensive professional experience Vittorio is possibly one of the only men that I would rather not battle. He is a fighter and wins at all cost,” he declared.
“Somehow I’m not feeling all that reassured,” she stated.
“I could give you empty words of his attributes but if you want reality as you’ve asked then this is it. He’s a hard man but also fair. In his mind what he is doing is the right thing, he wants to pass you down your rightful inheritance but he would also doubt any possibility of you managing that business. Hence, he wants us married, so he has the person of his choosing at the helm. It will, of course, be expected that we produce heirs. Preferably sons to ensure the business continues to pass into the hands of Favalli men.”
“It’s as though he thinks he is royalty. Surely to have kept up in the business world he would by now know that a woman can excel just as well as a man?” While she wasn’t even interested or admittedly competent to run a business empire the size of Favalli’s she still felt put out by Vittorio’s obvious discrimination. Surely he didn’t expect her just to sit at home breeding for a succession line. It was a ludicrous thought.
“Vittorio has only ever tolerated women in business. Unfortunately, his archaic ideas are ingrained and no matter how outraged we both are he will not change,” from what she had seen she would have to agree.
“Fair enough. The puzzling thing is that I came looking for Vittorio. So, how is it that he had sent you to find me at the same time as I decided to find him?” she asked.
She waited for Renato’s response, “I don’t know. I do agree with you though that it was too much of a coincidence.”
Renato gave the question further thought, figuring that this could be the inroad he was needed. A chance to let her believe they were conspiring together and build a little trust. He asked her questions about what she thought the possibilities were and drew her in. “You realise that if we ask him directly he will not tell us any more than he wants us to know?”
“Yes, I had gathered that. I’ve already mentioned it to him, and he effectively skirted the subject,” she admitted.
“That sounds about right; the man is a true tactician. I’m sure that the two of us can figure it out,” attempting to build the comradery, “Firstly I will call Savino and have him look into it. Vittorio and I share some of the same security and investigation staff which are led by Sav; I’ll let you know how I go,” he got his first semblance of a real smile.
“Thank you I would appreciate that,” she paused and must have decided that it was safe enough to confide, “You can’t know how unsettling the past few weeks have been. I feel as though I have a million pieces to a puzzle, and I have no idea that piece to reach for first. I just want my life to make sense,” she beseeched him.
He took his hand off the gear stick and covered her hand with his on her lap. Cool to the touch he immediately felt a desire to warm her up, and properly. He imagined exactly how hot and bothered he could get her. It seemed that he could no longer get close without feeling immediate desire. “We’ll get through this together. I meant it when I said I want our marriage to work,” he reassured her caressing her thumb with his. “Look we are already here.”
The afternoon went better than she expected. They started with a private tour of the Vatican, a tour guide that gave them enough educational information, time and space to see everything at their pace without being intrusive. They got to enter rooms free of other tourists that she knew was due only to Renato’s wealth and status. There were definite perks to being a Favalli. A Favalli, it’s a name she should have had from birth. Leilani Favalli, it rolled quite well she thought. Soon it would be her name by marriage. Her destiny was approaching via the most compelling and twisted route.
Even without the queues the day was draining. They walked through the ruins of the Colosseum and the Forum, and Leilani had marvelled at what she saw. Australia was still a babe when it came to history. To see the remains of buildings and artefacts more than two thousand years ago and the height of those buildings, she was in awe. It was difficult to imagine how they would have been built. Slavery would have been predominant; she could barely imagine what it would have been like to live in such times where human’s fighting to the death was an acknowledged form of entertainment.
“Let’s sit and rest for a bit. Have you seen enough for the day?” he asked solicitously.
“It was incredible,” and it had effectively taken her mind off some of her other worries and concerns.
“But you are tired which is to be expected. We’ve done a lot of walking in the heat.”
“Oh, the weather is fine. Sydney gets much hotter. In fact, I can’t believe how different the sun is. In Oz, I’d be burnt to a crisp by now particularly without sun-cream. I wouldn’t usually even think of leaving the house without it in summer.”
“Agreed the sun isn’t as harsh, however, you should still protect your skin,” he put an arm around her shoulder and led them into a quiet café.
Leilani sank into the chair grateful to get off her tired feet. She hadn’t worn these sandals before and even though they were comfortable the ornate metallic fastening
was rubbing against her skin, she would kill for a blister Band-Aid. Renato was talking in Italian to the shop owner, “Have you tried granita before?” he turned to her and asked.
“No, what is it?”
In mock horror, he asked her, “What kind of Italian’s have been raising you? I will order you one now, and you will see for yourself,” he continued to converse in Italian with the owner and then afterwards apologised. “Sorry, although a lot of Italians speak English most prefer to use Italian particularly with other Italians.
“I guess that makes sense. I am after all the interloper, so I have no right to expect people to switch languages on my behalf,” she conceded.
“How is it that you never learnt the language? Both of your parents are Italian I would have thought you would be fluent?”
“According to dad, he ordered mum to speak English at home. Told her they would struggle to find work if they spoke the language like people fresh off the boat whereas mum said that it was due to them speaking different dialects. She said they found it difficult to understand one another in Italian. I think it must have been a little of both,” she concluded.
Two tall glasses of granita arrived garnished with mint leaves and a slice of lemon they looked very refreshing. “Back home we would call this an Icee or a slushy. Is it lemon flavour?”
“Go ahead and try it.”
She sipped up a big mouthful and was pleasantly surprised. She was expecting a sharp, sour lemon taste. It was sweetened to perfection with the right amount of tartness to refresh her, “It’s delicious, and I take back my words it’s nothing like a fake cordial slushy.”
“It tastes so good, because of the types of lemons we grow and use here in Italy. They are sweeter and bigger than the ones you have in Australia,” he explained.
“Oh I’ve seen them,” she grew animated. “I even took a sneaky photo in a shop of one in front of my face for perspective. It was enormous more like a grapefruit than lemon,” she gushed.
Renato’s smile started to fade and in place awareness developed; when she laughed, and her troubles were distant, she was incredibly enticing. He hoped he’d done enough to start earning her trust. Truthfully he’d surprisingly found the day enjoyable. It wasn’t quite the tedious chore he expected it to be. They had spent time asking each other the usual get to know you questions; favourite colours, singers and actors, hobbies and sports. He now knew that she favoured red, eighties singers and old school actors like Dustin Hoffman, Morgan Freeman and Meryl Streep who had in her opinion earned their stripes in their field.
When provoked for her opinion, she was an educated opponent and when she didn’t know the answer she had grace in saying so which intrigued him. It was rare so many people he knew would never back down in a debate even when they were clueless on the topic. He could see now that she was more multi-faceted than he’d credited her. He was looking forward to this evening, a few drinks and an excellent meal should relax her further. His seduction would take very, little effort, and she would be his tonight securing the promise he’d made to Vittorio and the fate of The Favalli Company.
“Are you okay?” she asked with a small amount of uncertainty.
“I'm all right better than I’ve been in a long while. However, I no longer want to spend our time amongst strangers and crowds,” Renato paid the bill leaving a sizeable tip and propelled them towards the car. He barely glanced at her as he picked up his phone. In rapid Italian, he ensured the preparations for the rest of the evening would go off without a hitch. “Thank you, Camilla. That will be all,” he finished off. If he noticed Leilani pull back at the sound of Camilla’s name, then he paid it no heed. By the end of the evening, Leilani would be in no doubt as to where he wanted to be and with whom. More surprising, it was no act, he wanted to bed her more feverishly than any other woman of his acquaintance.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I’ve booked us into the Westin Excelsior,” he stated as they drove towards the valet service.
“Isn’t this the same street as your apartment?” she queried.
“It is but it is an experience I don’t want you to miss. I thought it would complement the rest of your day. The rooms we are staying in are quite a sight and most people never get the chance to appreciate them.”
The entrance to the hotel was impressive, but nothing could have prepared her for their suite that was called the Villa La Cupola. The cupola was, in fact; a hand painted dome nearly twelve metres high. The private butler gave them a quick tour of the two floors that indeed was nothing short of over the top extravaganza. It had its own Pompeian styled Jacuzzi pool, fitness room, sauna and steam bath. They also had a private cinema, a wine cellar and a panoramic view of the city. It was incredible.
They followed the butler out onto one of the terraces. There were seven in total, and they would all be perfect to sit out and while away time with a few glasses of vino. There was, of course, a private elevator, formal dining and separate kitchen. Renato had ensured that the extra five connecting rooms, as well as the two that came with the suite, were all included so as to provide complete privacy on both floors.
Finally when the butler left, tip in hand, Leilani couldn’t help but ask, “This must have cost you a small fortune. I know it’s probably crass to ask but how much would a room like this cost per night?”
“I’m not entirely sure. Camilla would have negotiated a good deal but possibly it would still have cost around fifteen thousand euros give or take.
If she had have been drinking she would have choked. “There was a time when that would have been close to my yearly salary and to think people have that kind of money to drop on a single night out. It’s just so far removed from my reality,” she mused aloud.
“Being removed from your reality is a thing of the past. All fo this is now your world, and I want you to feel comfortable with it,” he said in earnest.
“I think that would take a lot to get used to.”
“The reality is that a room like this even though it is easily affordable to me is still a treat and a rarity. If I went around dropping this kind of cash daily, my wealth would soon enough diminish. I wanted to treat you today and splurging is relative to one’s income, wouldn’t you agree?”
She nodded her head only semi convinced.
Not happy with her lack of conviction he pressed on, “Look at it this way, a man earns a modest income of a few hundred euros a week. He splurges one hundred of them on his loved one for a special night, is that acceptable?” he led.
“I guess so,” she answered.
His eyes lit up in clear anticipation of winning this debate, “That man would have spent one-fifth of his weekly salary on his loved one, and you agreed this to be an acceptable amount. The sum I’ve spent here at the Westin is only a fraction of my salary, completely affordable,” he saved the best for last. “If I had purchased a hundred euro disreputable room for the night would you have thought me romantic?”
“Ah, okay I get your point. However, a lovely room somewhere in between said prices would also have been just as acceptable,” she smiled. It was true she didn’t need this level of opulence to give her happiness. It was incredible but unnecessary.
He looked unconvinced and steered her in the direction of one of the terraces. “Let’s relax now. I thought we could simply stay in tonight and continue to get to know one another. We could enjoy the many wonders of the suite.” The latter was said with just enough suggestiveness that she finally realised that Renato may be expecting things to move along at a much more rapid pace, and truthfully she wasn’t sure if she would object.
Admittedly it was one good day, a day out of reality, but since she met him she no longer remembered what reality looked like. Every day was a bit like a fantasy world, drama one day and distresses the next all in exotic settings. It was previously a dream world. She felt her neck and shoulder muscles tense and shook it off. There was no use worrying or pre-empting what might happen. Instead, she would simply enjoy the
night. She was certainly no prude, and what if the night ended with them in bed. They would soon marry; she’d just need to guard her heart. These days’ sex and love did not go hand in hand. Personally she never thought she’d imagine one without the other, maybe being in such close proximity all day had shorted her circuit.
Renato watched the emotions flitting over Leilani’s face and after his evocative comment he knew what was creating that internal war. It was now up to him to ensure she ended up on the right side of the battle. The wine was waiting in an ice bucket just as he’d instructed, and he’d dismissed the wait staff for now. He moved his chair closer to hers and without thought melded their hands together as he’d done for the majority of the day, wanting her to get used to a physical connection with him. “I want to know more about you, your childhood, family and friends?” he probed.
“There isn’t anything all that interesting to tell,” she prevaricated.
He raised disbelieving eyebrows at her. “I doubt that. You are the daughter of Vittorio Favalli and you were raised not knowing your true parentage. I’d say the little I know indicates you’ve already led an unusual life,” he argued.
“Well, it sounds more intriguing than it was. Growing up, I didn’t know about my colourful history, so life seemed very normal. I grew up in Sydney’s inner west in a suburb called Leichhardt. I was neither popular or an outcast, just an ordinary girl with a few close friends.”
“Go on,” he urged.
He looked like he wanted to hear so she continued to elaborate, “I guess you could say I had a strained relationship with my father from an early age. He was quite a dominant man and even though my mum could be assertive he just never showed her any sign of respect. Once I got to an age where I realised how wrong that was, I would back chat him and defend my mother. A losing battle, to say the least,” she looked out at the view as she retrieved her memories.