‘Okay,’ she said.
He nodded and walked away, leaving her staring after him. What he’d told her this morning was horrifyingly sad. Poor Dante. Poor Edo. But he’d wanted to be there for his brother, he’d wanted to do all he could, which showed he was loving. He was just desperately hurt. So no wonder he preferred superficial pleasures with temporary play mates. His wasn’t a raw wound but an infection to the bone and maybe it could never heal. But he was offering her another moment—and she simply couldn’t resist. Of course she wanted to see more of Italy.Especiallywith him.
* * *
They flew first thing, accompanied by three burly bodyguards. Phoebe gazed out of the helicopter window, enthralled by the view of the changing countryside. They walked slowly through the heart of Florence. Edo selected the café—he had coffee, she juice, and they nibbled oncornettiand he then took her to the Uffizi.
She stood in front of the enormous paintings and stared, her heart so full.
‘She’s not as beautiful as you.’ Edo’s whisper tickled her neck and pierced her thin-skinned heart.
Phoebe rolled her eyes. ‘You’re not suggesting I’m more beautiful than a Botticelli?’
‘I’m insisting you’re more beautiful than Spring herself.’ He took her arm and led her out of the gallery. ‘Come on, we need to get to Milan and find an evening gown.’
‘Why do you need an evening gown?’
He grinned. ‘You need one for the opera. Have you ever been?’
She shook her head.
‘We are the home of opera,’ he declared. ‘We are the best at it.’
‘You think you’re the best at everything—food, music, fashion, sex—’
‘And am I wrong?’ He pressed his hand to his heart. ‘You love Italy. You wanted to come here for years. Not to attend an opera while you’re here is a crime.’ He swept her along with his infectious energy. ‘In the summer I’ll take you to the outdoor theatre in Verona. The nights are hot and sultry and it will stir your passion. You will love it.’
In summer? Had he forgotten that by next summer they would have a child? That—according to his plan—she and their baby would be in London.Without him. But she blinked away that reality, because right now he was smiling and charming and sliding her easily into a little more trouble.
A different set of bodyguards greeted them in Milan. First stop was a couture fashion store. She took one look at the window and refused to get out of the car even when the bodyguards gestured that it was safe to emerge.
‘The dress code is this formal?’ she half-wailed.
‘It is the opening night of the season and we have prime seats.’ Edo chuckled.
‘But I can’t—’
‘You can pay me back once you’ve made your first five figures,’ he pre-empted her primary concern. ‘I’ll know where to find you.’
As they walked in, the assistants immediately straightened, shooting charming smiles at him and slightly widened eyes at her. Self-conscious, Phoebe instinctively covered her belly with her hand, but then the assistants became impossibly more attentive and charming, fussing over her with wide smiles and promises to find the perfect outfit. Shooting her an amused glance, Edo took a seat near the rear of the store.
‘You’re not going to stay and watch?’ she whispered, appalled.
‘What else would I do?’ He smirked. ‘I’m looking forward to the fashion show. Besides, they’ve offered me coffee and apple cake.’
There were several possibilities but in the end it was a toss-up between a midnight-blue and a floral.
‘You choose.’ He shook his head when she appealed for his opinion. ‘You get to please yourself.’
The asymmetry of the blue appealed, with its one dramatically feathered sleeve and one bare arm. It was loose enough around her middle to hide the blooming curve of her belly while showing off her legs. One assistant found delicate shoes to match and both they and the dress were tissue-wrapped and bagged before she’d even glimpsed a price tag.
Fifteen minutes later, their driver stopped outside a strikingly modern apartment building.
‘Is this a private hotel?’ she asked as his security team moved them through.
‘No, this is my place. I was only in that hotel for the convenience for the meetings.’
Phoebe’s curiosity was uncontrollable but she tried not to go bug-eyed as the lift opened on the top floor, revealing a luxurious apartment. It was as beautifully furnished as the vineyard estate—comfortable but revealing little about him personally. There was art but no personal photos, no small trinkets anywhere. But there was a massive home office. The man worked all hours, all the time.
