Finally, Luca handed the phone back to me. I greeted my husband with a tentative stab at his name.
“I expect you home soon.” His voice was cold as ice, and I pulled my jacket closer. “In one piece. And without blood.” Then the line went dead.
“Like I can stop it!” I almost screamed at the phone. Turning to Luca, I asked, “What did he say?”
“Not a word.” He waved a hand. “But words were not needed. His message came across clear.Bring my wife back to me as you took her.I respect that.”
The autumn sun flowed like warm honey through the windshield and the trees. All around us the earth was changing, turning colors and twisting smells, that precarious exchanging of seasonal hands at work.
I hadn’t even realized I had started to mumble to myself until Luca laughed, bellowing as he had done in the maze. I almost felt like a startled bird at the sound of gunshot.
Being a natural tenor, he had a surprisingly deep bass to his voice, which seemed to echo in the car, ricocheting from one side of my heart to another, like a jolt, making my nervous system fire off a bunch of synapses.
The man threw back his head, close to tears. Somewhere between the labyrinth and the road he’d become high off his own emotions.
“AhDio! Did you see Ercole’s face? You are a mighty weapon, indeed. You are half their size, dance on your toes, and they fear you!”
“Yeah well,” I grumbled, “don’t get used to it, Luca Fausti!”
Glancing at my face, he laughed even harder, slapping the steering wheel.
“You make the unfeeling man feel. You are such a delight to the senses. Little wonder why my son fell so hard for you—even if fate had not been at work, he had no chance!”
Sharpening my features the best that I could, I glared at him. “I’m being serious. Don’t do that to me again. If you want me to…read someone, ask.”
“I can respect that.” He sighed. “It was just this once.” He held up his pointer finger. “If I had asked, it would have come as no surprise to you, ah?”
“You didn’t trust me.”
“Trust is earned. People tell me what you can do. I must see it for myself.”
“People say there is a God, yet you believe.”
“I have felt God in my life. Even heard His voice in my ear.”
“What if you had never felt him? Or heard His voice? Would you still believe?”
“Are you comparing yourself to God?” He shot me a slanted look, enjoying the banter.
He had me there. I stumbled over my words for a second, before pausing, taking a deep breath, and then straightening myself out.
“No, I would never dare to compare myself to God. I know you’re a man of faith, and I was making an observation. We should believe because we have faith, despite what people say or don’t, and despite what we see.”
He lifted his hand, touched my chin, and smiled to himself. “You are a joy to be around,Rosa. Never let anyone tell you differently.”
“It doesn’t matter what people say, as long as I’m a joy for my husband to be around.”
“You please him very much. You are a wonderful wife to my son.” He became quiet for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. “You are not the one I saw for my son. You are—different.”
“Not built like Maggie Beautiful, you mean?”
He lifted one shoulder, then let it fall. “She is a siren, yes,to me.”
“And many others,” I mumbled.
He only smiled. “Still. You are worth more than rubies to my son, ah?” He lifted my hand, bringing it to his mouth. He placed a soft kiss on my knuckles.“Or shall I say emeralds? Yes, emeralds. Your eyes. I have never seen eyes like yours before—they glisten, and in soft candlelight become unearthly. Your skin is remarkable, as well as your mouth and heart. You are one of the most beautiful women my eyes have ever seen. This is why the men fall hard for you. Rare women can enrapture a man without the power of their physical bodies. You are a rare woman, Scarlett Rose Fausti.”
“Grazie,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say.
