by Hearts at the Holy See [Passport to Romance] (retail) (epub)
“No.” Amalie lifted her chin. Yesterday, she’d let herself fall the rest of the way in love with Giovanni. Started to trust he wouldn’t dump her when his vacation was over. This morning, she’d regretted giving her heart to him when it should belong to Jesus. But that was silly. God hadn’t asked her to renounce love or marriage. He’d just made it clear that Alex wasn’t supposed to be a part of her life. New energy poured into her and she grinned. “It’s OK, Case. I’ll be good.”
“You’re always good. Sometimes that worries me.” Then Casey giggled. “But I wouldn’t mind if you just stayed good and let me borrow something to wear today. All of a sudden, I don’t like anything I brought.”
Probably because everything she had was a wrinkled mess. How had she managed to import her messy closet to Italy? Amalie nodded. “Sure, go ahead.”
While Casey changed, Amalie cleaned her side of the closet, which Casey had rendered as messy as hers, then followed her downstairs with a bit more bounce in her step. She’d gone off alone the day before to ask God to give her direction. And He’d sent Giovanni after her. Now, she had to trust both of them. God and Giovanni.
Funny how hard that could be.
Just as they reached the door, she found she’d decided. Today, she’d trust. God mostly, and Giovanni if it felt right to do so. She’d put her heart out there and see what happened.
She spied Giovanni through the front door, and her heart quailed. She rescinded every resolution. What if he turned out to be like Alex? What if he’d only promised forever so he could have fun for the next week, and then he’d clue her in—or not—that he’d lied? What did she know about this guy? Nothing. He was an architect. A Catholic. Loved God and going to Mass. Somehow, listing every good thing she knew about him didn’t help. She was just too scared. Trusting made a person vulnerable, set a person up for destruction.
She couldn’t do that again. Even if it was what God wanted from her, she couldn’t.
****
With his hands shoved in his pockets, Giovanni watched the hotel entrance, looking for a sherbet-colored hat and matching top. He caught sight of an orange brim, sporting blue and yellow flowers, and his heart raced across the street and started jumping up and down for attention. Good thing he could at least control his feet.
But it wasn’t Amalie who wore the orange delight. Casey seemed to have appropriated it and left Amalie with a white and tan slouchy thing that cast her face in a gloomy shade.
The women walk toward him and Leo, and his heart did a few things he thought were impossible for a mere human muscle organ. Casey could have disappeared, or turned into a toad and hopped sadly away, and he wouldn’t have noticed. All he could see was Amalie.
She was like sunshine, that girl, even in her plain hat, which he would steal and then hide the minute she took it off. He’d buy her something new, something that reflected every facet of her personality. She was like the light in Italy, sparkling, vibrant, intoxicating. No wonder the masters painted that light into their work. They were addicted to it. Just as he might be to Amalie.
His feet and heart stuttered at the same time. What was wrong with him? He’d met her a mere week ago. Strange to think that he’d not only managed to fall in love with her so quickly, but that she’d become such a central part of his life, as if she’d always been in it.
But then, he called her luce mia—my light. Even that day, his heart had known. Yesterday, he’d promised he’d stick around forever. And he’d meant it.
Being in love took some getting used to.
He fought his grin to a slightly toned-down smile and nodded as Casey bounced up to him and Leo.
“We’re going to the gardens today.”
“I remember.” Leo gave Casey the kind of goopy smile Giovanni was afraid lived on his own face when he looked at Amalie, and his own grin resurfaced.
Giovanni went on feeling smug until he noticed Amalie wouldn’t return a single glance, not with a love-sick expression or any other kind. She turned her head any time he spoke and made sure to keep either Casey or Leo, and usually both of them, firmly between the two of them, like a double body barrier.
In fact, she’d copied her cousin’s tricks from the day before.
What was up with that?
He’d done everything he could the day before: found her, reassured her, held out his heart for her, and she still couldn’t trust him. It was enough to make him give up.
Enough to make him angry. But then, he caught sight of her face again.
Nope. Wasn’t giving up. Wasn’t even all that angry. Wasn’t giving into those temptations. Maybe he could even end up making her smile—make a game out of her evasions, make it into a joke.
If she was really evading him.
He tested it out. He’d wind his way between Amalie and whoever separated them at the moment, and get right next to her. And within minutes, there’d be someone between them again. It happened three times, and the last time, she actually looked at him before she escaped. Her expression said she didn’t understand him either, and he was making her sad.
Wow. He had no answer, and for a while, he let not only Casey and Leo, but a whole host of strangers get between the two of them. Not out of anger. Not out of despair. She puzzled him, that was all, and he had to figure her out.
But let Amalie back out? Never. Either she’d have to give him a reasonable explanation, or she’d have to let him in.
Pretty soon she managed to put even more distance between them.
Maybe she didn’t feel the same tingly, exciting shivers he did when they touched. Maybe she didn’t watch him when he wasn’t looking, the way he watched her. Or maybe she did, and he’d just have to work a little harder to let her know how he felt.
So he wove his way between groups of tourists and beds of flowers and stopped next to her, where she focused her camera on a particularly brilliant display. He took a deep breath and reached out.
He got hold of two warm, shiver-inspiring fingers, and a second later he had one hand up to his throbbing eye and the other in block position. If only he hadn’t warned her about purse snatchers. He peered at her with the remaining good eye.
“I’m sorry!” Amalie gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. Then she dropped them enough to whisper, “Oh, Giovanni, I’m so sorry. I thought you were a thief.”
“Yeah, I figured that out.”
A few people had gathered around, and most of them were giving Giovanni the kinds of looks that suggested a talk with the polizia. Giovanni explained, in Italian, at least three times, before he decided he wasn’t being hauled anywhere for questioning.
“It’s all right. I know him,” Amalie cried and hung on his arm, which seemed to help.
And at least now she was both looking at him and talking to him and, other than those tears, she seemed happy about it. So he’d had to pay a black eye to get her attention. Worth every twinge.
“You’ve got a good punch going there.”
A smile flickered for a half a moment then disappeared.
Leo and Casey meandered over, Leo shaking his head. “Good one, Jovi. Get us all kicked out of Vatican City and get yourself blacklisted at the same time.”
“Black-eyed, you mean.” Giovanni dropped his hand and grinned.
“He needs some ice,” Amalie tugged on his arm.
“I’m fine. Really.” Because ice might slow down how damaged he looked, and for once, he thought a mottled face might hold more weight than what he’d always been told was a pretty good looking one. Get him more sympathy, he hoped. At least, from Amalie. What anyone else thought, he didn’t care.
Casey grinned at Giovanni. “She’s good at softball, too. She was kind of a star in high school.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“More home runs than anyone else on the team put together.”
Amalie brushed a strand of golden-red hair away from her mouth, hiding her pink cheeks at the same time. “Casey exaggerates a lot. But you’ve probably
already figured that out.”
“We have.” Leo gave Casey a poleaxed grin.
Giovanni sighed. “I just wanted you to look at the roses.”
“Oh, right.” Amalie glanced around.
If Giovani had planned to use roses as a distraction, he should have made sure there were some nearby to be exploited.
“Over there?” Amalie pointed.
“Yeah. Right. I mean, right there, yeah.” He thanked God, and the Vatican gardeners, for the abundance of rose bushes. Maybe he’d subconsciously caught the scent, and that was why he’d mentioned them. Of course, roses were to be expected in a garden.
Leo smirked at him, then waved a hand at Casey. “Let’s go look at the roses.”
Giovanni opened his mouth, shut it, and gave his cousin a narrow-eyed glare. What was going on here? Maybe he hadn’t been paying much attention, and maybe Leo counted on that, but Giovanni was sure…
He sidled up next to Leo, on pretext of wanting to dampen his handkerchief in the fountain. Once he’d plastered it to his eye, though, he realized, with great relief, what a good idea it was. And it’d end up black enough without him encouraging it. “So, Leo. I could be wrong here, but I’m suspecting you and Casey made up yesterday.”
“What? No!” Leo shook his head, his eyes wild.
“Yeah, sure you did. When I was out looking for Amalie, you stayed back to get cozy with Casey.”
“You’re out of your mind.” Leo refused to meet Giovanni’s one-eyed glare.
“Maybe, but I’m not stupid. Or blind.”
Leo snorted, and Giovanni let his handkerchief drop a few inches. “I can tell what’s going on. That’s for sure.”
Leo glanced over Giovanni’s shoulder then back. “OK, listen, you can’t let on to Amalie. Casey thinks—well, you know how much she worries. She’s afraid if Amalie knows the two of us are doing well, then she won’t have to try so hard.”
Giovanni stumbled slightly as they turned to follow the girls. “Try so hard at what?”
Leo shrugged. “Getting over that guy who dumped her. She said, if Amalie doesn’t have to put on a front about helping Casey, then she won’t try.”
“Amalie isn’t a wimp, you know.” He readjusted the handkerchief, under which he was sure was a rapidly purpling bruise.
“Emotionally, though.” Leo shrugged. “Casey ought to know her a lot better than either of us, right?”
“I suppose.”
“So. Give her a reason to hang out with the living, OK?”
“What?” Giovanni stared at Leo, totally confused.
“That’s what Casey says. That Amalie just needs a reason to get out there and mix with people who aren’t out to hurt her.” He jerked to stare at Giovanni. “You’re not—I mean, you’re not doing the old try her out and then decide she’s not good enough thing, are you?”
Giovanni shook his head. “The family legend rears its ugly head again. No, I’m not out to hurt her. Nor am I as picky as everyone pretends.” He took a deep breath, then said, “I think—no. I know I’m in love.”
“Well.” Leo let his surprise show for just a moment before he grinned. “That’s great news.”
To Leo, sure. To Giovanni, of course. Now, he’d just have to convince Amalie.
****
Amalie hugged her feelings to herself, her arms crossed over her stomach, as if she had to use force to hold everything inside. What was she doing? Not just to herself. She could handle anything she dished out to herself, she’d learned that. But to Giovanni? All she could see, every time she closed her eyes, was his face, wearing a hurt and bewildered expression, begging for an explanation or a reprieve.
That and the black eye she’d given him.
How could she treat another human being that way?
But how could she let him into her heart and life? How could she trust him?
She had to be able to find a place where she could be friendly and not fall completely under his spell.
She’d never found that place with Alex. He’d demanded complete surrender. And once she’d given in, he’d destroyed her.
No, he hadn’t done that. He’d tried. He’d come very close. But—and she lifted her chin, letting her shoulders raise, letting her spine straighten—he had not won. He’d only win if she let him keep her from loving another person, and right now, she suspected that was God’s plan for her.
She needed to pray more. She needed to get to know this man who seemed gentle, respectful, loving, and godly.
She needed to let God carry her to that place where she could heal and love again.
She needed to trust.
With her chin still up, confident, alive, she turned and faced her Giovanni, met his smile with one of her own, and took another tiny step of trust.
****
Giovanni saw the smile, saw the confidence, and for once, decided not to go on the attack. Instead, he went on talking with Leo and watched Amalie meet up with Casey. Let her come to me. Let her make the moves. Just for now.
I can always use that black eye for leverage later.
A group of French children, squealing and calling to one another, started a game of tag. Giovanni watched their progress as they surged closer to Casey and Amalie. Neither moved out of their way. He hated to break the contact Amalie had just initiated, so he waved and pointed. Amalie only looked confused, so he turned to Leo and pointed to the kids streaking between the flowerbeds.
Leo nodded and turned. “Hey, Casey, watch—”
Just as she looked up, two kids came at her from opposite directions. They collided with Casey, and sent her backward, sprawling onto the walkway.
French, Italian and English all combined in a cacophony.
“I’m OK.” Casey struggled to her feet and took a step. “Oh, wait. I’m not.” Her white face said she was telling the truth, and the way she stumbled when she tried to take a step confirmed it. “How am I gonna get back to the hotel?”
Leo curved an arm around her back. “We’ll carry you. Right, Jovi?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Giovanni would much rather have his arms around Amalie, especially after that smile, but Casey’s obvious pain didn’t leave him that option.
“She ought to go to the hospital,” Amalie said.
“It’s just a sprain. We can send the boys to get some elastic wrap. You know that’s all they’d do for it.”
Leo glanced at Giovanni and shrugged. “If you’re sure, Casey. But we ought to get you back to your room. Otherwise it’ll swell and take longer to heal.”
Giovanni noticed Leo remembered not to use any endearments that time.
By the time they’d reached the hotel and propped Casey up in the one-person elevator to send her on the way to the third floor, both Leo and Giovanni were dripping.
“You two take your time coming up,” Casey said before she clanked the elevator door shut. “Oh, do you think the hotel offers room service? I don’t think I’m going anywhere for lunch. Or dinner.”
“We’ll take care of it. What’s your room number?” Leo keyed it into his phone then looked at Giovanni. “We’ll go clean up while you take care of whatever you need to do. We’ll be back with lunch and the first aid supplies in an hour or so.”
Amalie nodded and headed for the stairs. Since she had three flights to tackle and went at them at quite a clip, Giovanni decided she had a lot more energy than he’d thought.
Of course, he tended to view her as delicate and in need of protection. He rubbed his face, just under his swollen eye. Obviously, she didn’t need as much as he wanted to give.
“We’ll get some ice for your face, too.” Leo led the way out of the hotel and in the direction of his apartment.
“Thanks.”
“She’s quite a woman, isn’t she?” Leo lapsed into Italian.
“Casey or Amalie?”
“Um.” Leo glanced at him. “Well, I actually meant—”
“Casey. I know. Just playing with you.” Giovanni punched his cousin�
�s arm.
“Yeah. So. You won’t let on, will you?”
“I won’t. And you did really well not calling her any soppy names and all. But maybe the two of you need to tone down your faces or something. You both sort of give it all away.”
9
They unpacked the offering Leo and Giovanni brought in a cavernous basket from Rossetti’s and laid it on a towel Amalie fetched from the bathroom and spread on the bed.
“I never thought I’d say this,” she said, after they’d finished grace and each had filled a huge plate—not paper—with their choices, “but I think the food just made it to the top of my things-I’ll-miss-when-I-go-home list.”
“A meal is an occasion. Every single time.” Giovanni handed her a bottle of seltzer water. In a lower voice, he murmured, “Look at Leo’s face.”
She did. Giovanni’s cousin might have been facing a firing squad. “Leo? What’s wrong? Did they send you something they know you hate?”
“What? No. Mama knows what I will eat.”
And in that one sentence, Amalie divined a whole host of issues that might come up for Casey.
Leo shrugged then waved a hand over the makeshift restaurant. “Who eats like this? So casually? With a towel for a tablecloth and no table?”
“Consider it an alfresco meal.”
Leo sneered at his cousin. “We’re inside a building.”
Giovanni grinned. “Pretend.”
Casey leaned close and snagged Leo’s sleeve. “Come on. Sit down next to me. I can’t go anywhere right now, so help me enjoy what I can.”
Leo shrugged, grabbed a plate, and filled it. Once he’d piled it with a bit of everything his mother had sent, he perched on the tiny chair the hotel provided.
Amalie watched her cousin and Leo. At one point, he hand-fed Casey a bit of bread and oil, and the way his fingers lingered near her lips made Amalie nearly melt. What would it be like to have a man so devoted? A shock of recognition shot through her—Leo was the devoted swain here. She narrowed her eyes as she studied the two. They’d made up. And it was just like Casey to perpetuate the fantasy that they hadn’t, so they’d all have a chance to be together—so Amalie would be forced into Giovanni’s company, for Casey’s sake.