This time, I allowed the laughter that had been stuck in my chest to flow out. I revved the engine, not holding back. “Get in! I promise to bring you back to yourbella bestia.”I winked at her. This was a promise I was going to keep. There was no doubt he would kill me if something happened to her. And even though I might have to kill her, she was fun!
Her face did not change, but she touched the door handle, then opened it, sliding in, her things pressed to her chest. She seemed to want to take the camera she carried and make it become a part of her.
How odd this little being was. But there was something about her that was truly remarkable.
I tied a headscarf around my hair and asked her, “Ready?” I did not give her a chance to answer. I hit the gas, heading back toward Siena.
A slight traffic incident made the ballerina hold her things even closer, her eyes narrowed on me after I gave the men a wave after they shouted at us.
The fun ballerina was not enjoying the ride, but it seemed like she might have been praying or floating in her air balloon again. It was as if she could not stay inside of herself. It seemed to me she longed to be somewhere else.
“I have seen you dance.” I pinched her to pop her balloon.
She slapped at me. “Quit it.”
I grinned at her almost…childishness. “You daydream too much. Be present.”
“I am! How can I not be? I’m too terrified to even close my eyes!”
“What did I say then?”
“When?”
“See! You have a floating mind. Bring it back down. For now.”
“All right. You’ve seen me dance. In Paris?”
“No, in Volterra. Not far from here, no?” Even though Nemours was keeping the identity of this spinning top under lock and key, I had collected the pieces and put them together. Her answer would confirm or deny this.
“Oh.” She seemed to collapse over her things as if they could protect her from the truth.
Trapped. I almost smiled at how cunning I could be.
“You are very good.” The memories of that night in Volterra after we watched her dance had changed something between my husband and me. It was the first night since the day after our wedding that we had been alone in our bed. He was ruthless with me, of course, but the after…was not so bad. What was the harm? I needed to eat, and he was treating me as a queen by feeding me.
I reached forward and turned the radio on. The song she had danced to thumped through the speakers. “I came outside of myself three times, after your dance. My lover was pleased with himself.”
“Did you get extra pasta for that?”
The question was so unexpected from her, and I laughed sohard, the car swerved. “I see why he fell for you,bella.” Not only him, but Olivier Nemours. I winked at her. “You are wicked.”
I made casual conversation with her the rest of the way, and she was present enough to answer most of the questions, but she was guarded. She did not trust me. Good for her. However, the information would be mine one way or another.
Taking a sharp turn, we traveled up the road leading to the villa, brown dust flying behind us. Once the car reached flat land, I hit the brake.
She leaned forward a little as the dust settled around us, her feline eyes taking in the farmhouse before us. Cream stone with a terra-cotta roof, vines climbing as if protecting the home within, and smaller buildings set around it. Giving her a moment to become curious, I stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind me. I turned toward the farmhouse, waiting for her to take the bait.
She did not just tug at it, but bit down. “Is this your place?” she asked, following me after a minute. “It’s beauti?—”
“Shh!” I grabbed her hand, refusing to lose the catch. “Come with me.”
Opening the front door with the skeleton key Grazia’s brother had given me, I gave her permission to enter before me.
Yours already, see?the invitation stated.
She was still hesitant, so I did not allow her to pause. I took her hand and brought her further inside. She paused on the second landing of the staircase, and a shiver stole over me. Grazia’s brother had said this was his sister’s favorite place to be. She would anticipate Marzio’s arrival and stare out of the window for hours, if that was how long it took for her lover to arrive.
It was not a usual occurrence for me to get goosebumps, but it was as if this tiny dancer called ghosts to her, and I was not sure if I liked that part of her. I tugged on her hand, and we moved to the master bedroom. She took it all in as if she were a sponge.
