The Italians: Rico, Antonio and Giovanni: The Hidden Heart of Rico Rossi / The Moretti Seduction / The Boselli Bride. Kate Hardy

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       CHAPTER THREE

      AT TWENTY-FIVE minutes past eight, the next morning, Ella was ready to go. As she’d expected, Rico knocked on her door at eight-thirty exactly. He was wearing pale chinos and another crisp white shirt; clearly he wore the same kind of clothes off duty as he did when he was working.

      He glanced at her feet and gave an approving nod. ‘Good. Flat shoes. They’re comfortable to walk in?’ he checked.

      ‘Very,’ she confirmed.

      ‘Good. Let’s go, bellezza.’

      Ella locked the door behind her and Rico ushered her out of the hotel. She tried not to be disappointed that he hadn’t taken her hand. Then again, they needed to be discreet; this was the hotel where he worked, and having a fling with a guest probably wasn’t something that the management would approve of.

      Did he have flings like this with many guests? She pushed the thought aside. Even if he did, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t looking for for ever. These few days in Rome were just for her, and she was going to enjoy them. No guilt, no complications—just fun. A few moments out of her real life.

      ‘So where are we going?’ she asked.

      ‘To find beautiful views,’ he said. ‘And something a little unusual. And, this afternoon, I think we can do something fun.’

      She smiled. ‘Sounds good to me.’

      As they walked down the street towards the Colosseum, Rico’s hand brushed against hers. The light contact sent a tingle all the way through her. Another brush, then another, and finally he was holding her hand, his fingers curling round hers. It made her feel like a teenager, which she knew was utterly crazy; and yet she couldn’t help smiling. Today was perfect. A cloudless blue sky, the jumble of ancient and modern buildings that was Rome, and an incredibly charming, gorgeous man to keep her company as she strolled through the streets.

      A man who’d given her so much pleasure last night. A man who’d made her see stars. And who might just do that again tonight …

      They wandered through the streets together, until they came to a stone wall and she looked over it and saw the river. ‘Wow. I had no idea the Tiber would be so green.’

      ‘It’s fast-moving, too.’ He pointed out a line of ducks that were struggling to swim against the current, then finally gave up and went with the flow.

      She rested her arms on the stone wall and peered into the distance. ‘Is that the Vatican?’

      ‘That’s the dome of St Peter’s you can see, yes—but, if you want to go there, I’d suggest going very early tomorrow morning,’ he said. ‘The queues at this time of day will be horrendous.’

      ‘Well, you can hardly go to Rome and not visit the Vatican,’ she said, taking a snapshot of the dome framed by the branches of the trees overhanging the wall.

      He smiled. ‘OK. I’ll book us a tour for tomorrow.’

      She blinked. ‘But you’re a tour guide. You’d actually take a tour with someone else? Or is that like market research for you?’

      ‘We need a licensed Vatican tour guide and I don’t have a Vatican pass,’ he explained. ‘But right now I have lunch in mind.’

      They walked hand in hand along the Tiber. Rico stopped by one of the bridges. ‘I know I’m not officially a tour guide today, but I’d be failing in my duty if I didn’t tell you that this is the oldest bridge in Rome, built nearly two thousand years ago.’

      ‘You mean it’s an original Roman bridge?’ And yet it looked as firm and strong as if it had been built with the newest technology. ‘Wow. It’s amazing to think we’re walking in the footsteps of people who lived all that time ago.’

      ‘The more things change, the more they stay the same,’ he said softly.

      Trastevere, on the other side of the river, was incredibly pretty; the houses were painted in a soft wash of terracotta or saffron, vines grew on balconies and terraces, and large pots of shiny-leaved green shrubs graced the doorways. And Ella thoroughly enjoyed their leisurely lunch in the square outside the church of Santa Maria. Sharing a glass of wine with him, seeing the desire glittering in his eyes—brighter than the golden mosaics outside the church that glittered in the sunlight.

      Once Rico discovered that she enjoyed looking round the ancient churches, he smiled. ‘That’s excellent, because I was planning to take you to see something a bit unusual in another church, just across the river.’

      ‘Unusual’ СКАЧАТЬ