As they finished their meal, she found herself telling him that Izzy was her very different non-identical twin, that she loved history, nature and wild places, and she also loved romance and wanted to visit Paris at some point. But first, there was Venice.
‘What have you seen so far?’ he asked.
‘The Doge’s Palace, the Grand Canal and lots of little backstreets.’
‘Fancy exploring together? It’ll be more fun.’
She studied him, debating whether to refuse. But she didn’t, and as the afternoon turned into music-filled evening and then hot sultry night, she was glad she hadn’t because she didn’t want this day to end.
When he finally took her in his arms to kiss her, and she kissed him back with a passion that matched his, she hoped it didn’t have to.
Sunlight flooded into the room through the gently moving voilecurtains, and the sounds of the city drifted up from the narrow streetbelow.
Giselle stretched luxuriously and turned her head to find Rocco watching her. He was lying on his side, his sun-tanned skin dark against the white sheets. Desire flared in his eyes.
‘I’m hungry,’ she announced.
‘So am I.’ The growl in his voice did something exciting to her insides.
Last night had been magical. To experience that degree of intimacy for the first time, with such a gorgeous man and in such a beautiful city, was beyond her wildest expectations. It had beensoromantic. The only thing lacking was love, that deep emotional connection Giselle yearned to experience someday. But not yet.
She had too much life to live, and she was also under no illusion that she would see Rocco again. They weren’t soulmates. They weren’t destined to be together, and she was fine with that. She wasn’t in love, but she was probably inlust. Rocco was a very moreish kind of guy. Breakfast could wait.
Eventually, though, it was time to leave thepensione. Venice called, and Giselle heard the city’s siren song. There was still so much more to see before she journeyed back to Milan this evening.
Still, she didn’t want to leave Rocco just yet. She wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye…
‘What time is your train?’ he asked.
‘Eight thirty this evening.’ It was slightly later, but she wanted to make sure she arrived at the station in plenty of time.
‘I don’t want to let you go,’ he murmured, wrapping her in his arms.
‘You have to; we need to check out soon.’
‘We have all day.Ifyou want.’ His gaze was sombre, intense. He’d had his wicked way with her, but he wasn’t going to love her and run. She appreciated that, even though she’d been fully prepared for it. Hell, she’d been considering doing that very thing herself.
‘Do you have anything in particular in mind?’ she asked.
‘Glass blowing.’
She raised her eyebrows as he continued. ‘Venice has been making glass for hundreds of years. The city is famous for it.’
‘I read something about that. Isn’t it made on an island?’ She’d seen loads of shops selling the most exquisite glass yesterday, all of it well out of her price range.
‘Murano,’ he confirmed. ‘There are about a hundred glass factories, apparently. My grandmother told me about them.’
‘Then that’s where we’ll go,’ Giselle stated.
A few more hours with Rocco would be wonderful. She had an image of one final passionate kiss on the station’s platform. Oh yes, Giselle was definitely a romantic…
Thevaporetto, or water bus, took around fifteen minutes from San Zaccaria near St Mark’s Square to reach the island of Murano.
It was another warm day, and the breeze on the open water was welcome. But the growing heat as midday approached didn’t prepare her for the furnace temperature of the glass blowing demonstration, and her dress, already limp from yesterday’s wear, now clung damply to her. She was glad to slip inside the air-conditioned museum afterwards, although she did her best to avoid the shop and temptation, despite that she’d dearly love to take a physical memento home with her to go with her fabulous memories.
She thought Rocco was being careful with money too, because he suggested buying a snack for lunch and sitting on the steps of Faro di Murano, the thirty-five-metre-tall lighthouse, next to where they were to board thevaporetto.
Perching on the sun-baked white stones, facing out to the Adriatic, Giselle and Rocco ate their food, letting the chatter of people in the cafe behind wash over them, and listening to the waves lapping on the jumble of rocks below.
