‘How old are they?’ Georgia asked.
‘The late 1700s,’ he replied, guiding her forward and pointing to the third of the paintings. ‘There is a nightmarish restaging tomany of his pieces, and I can’t help but imagine what his state of mind was like.’
They stood in silence, both staring at the piece of art. ‘It’s somehow so eye-catching, even though it’s terrifying.’
‘Almost all his works are held in museums around the world, for the enjoyment of all, but there are a small handful of collectors who’ve been able to keep them in their private collections.’
She turned and looked up at him. ‘Why do I have a feeling you know these collectors personally?’
‘You asked before whether I wanted to work for my family’s business, and that is the reason why,’ he said. ‘My family has been entrusted with the curation of private collections for the wealthiest Swiss collectors for generations, so it’s not just our physical store that I was taking over, and that was something I knew I could never walk away from.’
Georgia stared into his light blue eyes as his fingers caught hers, swallowing as his gaze dipped to her mouth.
‘But sometimes, those private collections can become all-consuming. It can feel impossible to achieve what is being asked of you.’
‘Is that how you felt searching for the sapphire?’
Luca nodded, just a slight movement of his head that she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been watching him so intently.
‘I refused to become as obsessed as my father became, but at the same time I didn’t want his work to be for nothing.’
Georgia moved her fingers against his, and Luca let go, touching his hand to her face instead.
‘It’s hard to believe that the same stone that has brought you to me, was the end of my father.’
Luca’s fingertips stroked her cheek as he dipped his head, hesitating slightly as if to give her the chance to pull away, beforepressing his lips gently to hers. It was a soft, lingering kiss that she wished would go on forever.
‘Do you bring all your dates to the museum to kiss them in front of your favourite paintings?’ she whispered, knowing her cheeks would be in full flush as he smiled down at her.
‘Only the ones with priceless sapphires in their possession.’
They both laughed, and Luca tucked his arm around her as they walked, pointing out the next collection he wanted to show her. Georgia pressed herself to his side, her head dropping to his shoulder, listening to what he was saying but also not really listening at all.
‘This is much more modern,’ she said, when they stopped in front of a collection of art that was in black and white, as if it had all been drawn by pencil, but nonetheless was somehow still vibrant. Georgia lifted her head from Luca’s shoulder.
‘This is by Marc Bauer,’ he said. ‘He’s probably one of our most recognised artists. I’m very fortunate to have one of his paintings in my home. It was the last gift my father gave me before he passed away.’
She turned to him, saw the way he was staring at the art, as if lost in his own world.
‘I can tell your father meant a lot to you.’
‘He did,’ Luca said, glancing back down at her. ‘But it was a complicated relationship.’
She tucked her arm around his waist as they began to walk again, and he slid his arm around her. Georgia dropped her head to his shoulder again without thinking, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, nestled against him as they moved through the hall.
‘You were close?’ she asked.
‘We were very close, and in some ways, he was the most incredible father. He was passionate about his work, devoted to his family, and he loved nothing more than taking me out sailingon Sundays. Those were probably the best memories from my childhood, being out on the water with him when it was just the two of us.’
He paused and she didn’t push him, and they came to stand in front of some more modern art that didn’t particularly catch her eye. But she sensed that Luca was waiting, thinking through what to say, and she looked over it as they stood.
‘When my father was good, he was great,’ Luca said. ‘But when he became obsessed with something, he turned into a different man. Unfortunately, those episodes increased as he got older, and my mother couldn’t live with him anymore. Eventually, he drove himself mad, and took his own life.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Georgia said. ‘I know what it is to lose a parent.’
He turned to her, sighing as he gently touched his forehead to hers. ‘Ah,mon amour, you lost both your parents when you were a child. I imagine it was much worse for you.’
Tears filled her eyes then and he caught them with his thumb, carefully brushing them away.
