Ravenna kneeled and scratched behind her ears. Ombretta purred, but the feline’s attention remained on the one person who refused to give her any at all. After a minute of petting, the cat deigned to notice Ravenna with an arched look.
Ravenna straightened. “I’ve always loved cats. Such solitary creatures, with an air of playful mischief.”
“Like you,” Saturnino murmured.
She glanced at him.
Her breath refused to drift past her lips, caught in a knot betweenher ribs. He returned her stare, his dark eyes steady on hers. A strange feeling rose in her, as if a gossamer link stretched between them, tentative and fragile. If she moved at all, it would disappear like mist caught in a sunbeam.
Ravenna deliberately turned away from him. Her attention returned to the massive globe; an odd knot of yearning curled tight in her chest. She held herself from him until her guard was a solid wall around her, impenetrable by the soft murmur of his voice.
“Your brother had the right of it. I’ve never been anywhere.” Ravenna’s hand hovered over the large expanse of ocean that stretched across the globe. “I’ve always wanted to see a mermaid.”
“Bloodthirsty creatures.”
She turned to look at him in surprise. “You’ve seen one?”
Saturnino gave a small shudder. “Once.”
“Are you…” Ravenna couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her tone. “Are youafraidof them?”
He hesitated. “I’m afraid of water and all of her secrets.”
Ravenna stilled, caught by his vulnerable admission. And then, because he’d been honest with her, she offered, “I’ve always gone to water for comfort.”
He waited for more, and her brows rose at his apparent interest. She gave in to his silent question. “There’s a lake by the inn where I love to swim. I’m often alone, and it’s quiet. I can hear myself think; it’s the only time I have to myself in between the needs of my family and guests, the constant roar of my siblings, and the demands of the day.” She dropped her palm on the wooden surface of the globe. Her voice turned wistful. “I’ve always wanted to travel by ship.”
Saturnino leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, a contemplative expression creeping across his handsome face. While he wasn’t built like his younger brother, there was a sleek strength to him. Arms sculpted, lean build. He was staring back at her with an intense focus, as if he wanted to understand her mood, the expression on her face, the wonder in her voice.
“I suppose you’ve been to many of these places?” Ravenna asked.
“Not everywhere,” he replied.
“But you’ve walked these roads,” Ravenna said, pointing to the map displaying the city-states of Florence, Venice, Rome.
“Some.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I’ve always liked roads, and where they might lead.”
“Roads?” He sounded reluctantly intrigued. “You’re an odd creature, Ravenna.”
She nodded to herself, almost absently. He’d been alive for far longer than she, and while she didn’t envy his eternal existence, it had given him time to travel the world slowly. To see everything twice, if he wanted.
“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing of import.”
“Tell me.”
She rolled her eyes as she drifted to the doorjamb. She leaned against it, palms tucked behind her and against the frame, and regarded him in exasperated amusement. “Has anyone ever told younobefore?”
“They’ve tried to,” Saturnino said. He dropped his voice to a coaxing whisper. “I’d like to know, please.”
The energy between them shifted. He gazed down at her intently, curious. No woman with a heartbeat could remain unaffected by his marked interest, even if it was all a game. The room faded into a hazy background. Gone were the maps, the enormous globe, the wood beneath her fingers. Gone was his connection to the Medici.
“Ravenna,” he said softly. “Tell me.”
His voice was casual, maybe deceptively so. He had lulled her into a sense of cozy security. It was just the two of them, and no one else mattered but her and her answer.
