Leo grinned, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. He’d told her to wear clothes to cover her knees and her shoulders, and also put on comfortable shoes.
‘I like surprising you,’ he said. ‘Although, you always seem so resistant.’
‘Ilike to be prepared.’
‘And yet each time we’ve gone out, you have been. Have I ever let you down?’
She sat with that for a while and of course the answer was clear. No, he hadn’t.
‘Anyway, as much as I’d like to spend every day locked in the bedroom making love to you, we had to cancel our honeymoon. I thought you might like to play tourist instead.’
Spending days in bed with him sounded like aperfecthoneymoon. Still, Leo’s suggestion was kind. Thoughtful. Something unfamiliar to her when she spent so much time thinking of others. On previous times she’d been to Milan they’d worked. One night she’d managed to get to La Scala, but that was all. It was nice to take the time to look around, especially with her own personal tour guide. The most handsome tour guide in the whole of Italy, if not the world.
‘I always wondered about your choice of Verona. I thought the whole point of getting married was a happily ever after. Romeo and Juliet didn’t achieve that.’
‘I thought Verona was romantic.’
That gave her pause. Nothing about their marriage was romantic and yet that’s what he’d wanted for their honeymoon? She shouldn’t read too much into it. A romantic honeymoon was good for PR. That had been the reason behind it, she was sure.
‘It’s a town famous for two hormonal kids who thought they were in love coming to a sticky end because of a family feud.’
‘And yet, people find it compelling. I can’t remember you being this cynical before, Mrs Zanetti.’
She hadn’t been, once. Simone had been too trusting, too naïve. Believing that her life would work out well, because why shouldn’t it? She’d only really recognised the privilege of the position she’d once held, when that position was taken away from her. It had taught her that in her world, people only cared about how you looked and how you dressed. That you behaved yourself and didn’t create a scandal. Love was transactional. So long as you toed the line it was fine, but heaven help you wanting a little something for yourself, or trying to break out of the mould created for you, because then people didn’t want you at all.
‘What is it they say?Marry in haste, repent at leisure? Are you repenting, Leo?’
A look passed over his face. Not exactly a frown, more like a moment of something that looked like pain. Though it had disappeared so quickly she could have imagined it.
‘I may have many things to repent for. Marrying you is not on the list. This will never be something I regret.’
The vehemence of his words. She didn’t know what to say because the truth was, she couldn’t regret this either. She was saved from having to respond as their cab pulled up at the side of a street. Leo paid with a generous tip and they both hopped out.
‘It’s not far,’ Leo said, holding out his hand. She took it, threading her fingers through his as they began to walk. ‘In fact, there it is.’
Rising above the cityscape were the spires of Milan’s magnificent Duomo cathedral.
‘I thought you might like to see the terraces. If there’s one thing you should do in Milan, it’s this.’
The plain marble square in front showed off the elaborate gothic architecture to perfection. People milled around, taking photos. A few children chased pigeons which took flight, flapping only a small distance away to land, before being chased again. They walked up to the door, avoiding the queue. Someone met them and handed Leo two tickets.
‘So, we don’t have to line up?’
He took off his sunglasses and winked. ‘No. I have a few friends in high places. It pays to know me.’
She placed her hand on his chest. ‘Why, Mr Zanetti, you do come with some benefits.’
His pupils flared dark in the languid blue of his eyes. ‘Later I’ll show you just how many, but for now, come explore.’
They walked inside the vast space. The floors, beautifully patterned marble. The plain walls spliced with jewel coloured stained glass windows. The vaulted ceiling, soaring above them. The cathedral’s magnificence gave her a new perspective on her own existence. It made many of her all too human problems seem small, insignificant.
‘We should see the terraces first, then we can explore the rest of the building, if you wish. I might light a candle…after.’
To honour his mother. She reached out and squeezed his hand. He squeezed back.
‘How do we get up top?’ she asked.
‘There’s an elevator for which we have tickets, or we can climb over two hundred stairs. Your preference?’
