Лицей, который не кончается. Юрий Карякин

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      ‘Not so. I do not live in the city,’ he reminded her. ‘Therefore, I marvel at it every time I return. And, Signorina Tourist, these statues were erected for more than decoration. The big white Neptune in the fountain with his water nymphs commemorates ancient Tuscan naval victories.’

      ‘How about the sexy Perseus brandishing Medusa’s severed head over there? Just look at those muscles!’

      Dante laughed, his eyes dancing at the look on her face. ‘He is a Medici warning to enemies, while the replica of Michelangelo’s David represents Republican triumph over tyranny.’ He shook his head. ‘Enough of the lessons. What would you like to do next?’

      ‘Could we just sit here for a while, Dante?’ Rose refused to feel guilty because she was enjoying herself so much. She could go back to resentment and hostility later.

      ‘Whatever you wish.’ He beckoned to a waiter for more coffee.

      Rose tensed as her phone beeped; she read the text, replied to it quickly and put the phone away. ‘Sorry about that—one of my clients.’ She smiled radiantly at the waiter who topped up her cup. ‘Grazie.’

      ‘Prego!’ The man returned her smile with such fervour Dante frowned.

      ‘It is good I am here with you,’ he said darkly when they were alone.

      ‘Why?’

      ‘To keep my beautiful companion safe from admirers.’

      Rose shook her head impatiently. ‘Hardly beautiful—I’m just reasonably attractive when I make the effort.’ But sometimes the effort was hard.

      ‘You are far more than just attractive, Rose,’ he said with emphasis, and signalled to the offending waiter. ‘I will pay, and then we shall see more of Firenze.’

      ‘Dante,’ she said awkwardly, ‘could I pay, please?’

      He stared at her in blank astonishment. ‘Cosa?’

      She felt her colour rise. ‘You’ve given up your time to show me round. I can’t expect you to feed me as well.’

      ‘It is my privilege,’ he said, looking down his nose. ‘Also a great pleasure.’

      ‘But I feel I’m imposing.’

      Dante shook his head. ‘You are not.’ He took her hand and stayed close enough to make himself heard as they threaded their way through the crowds in the Piazza. ‘I was forced to rush away from you last time, Rose, with only a brief apology. This time perhaps you will think better of me after we say goodbye tomorrow.’

      Less likely to murder him, certainly. ‘When you’ve been so kind, how could I not?’ she said lightly. She stood looking up in wonder as they reached Perseus and his grisly trophy. ‘Wow! I’ve seen Renaissance art in books but the bronze reality is something else entirely.’

      ‘Cellini was a master,’ he agreed, and moved on to the next, graphic sculpture. ‘So was Giambologna, yes? You like his Rape of the Sabine Women? It is carved from a single block of marble, but it is flawed, as you see.’

      Rose wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m not so keen on that one.’

      ‘Then let us go to the Bargello, which was once a prison, but now houses sculpture. Donatello’s bronze David from a century earlier is there. You will like that, I think. Then you cannot leave Firenze without a visit to the Accademia to gaze in wonder at the greatest statue of all—the marble David by Michelangelo.’

      Rose found that Dante was right when they arrived at the rather forbidding Bargello. On the upper loggia, it needed only one look at Donatello’s jaunty David, nude except for stylish hat and boots, for Rose to fall madly in love. She turned to Dante, her eyes bright with recognition. ‘I’ve seen him before on a television programme.’ She grinned. ‘The handsome lady in charge of his restoration couldn’t help smoothing his bottom!’

      He laughed, his eyes alight as he squeezed her hand. ‘You have not changed so much after all, bella. But now you must have a tramezzini and a drink. We may have to wait for some time in the Accademia.’

      She shook her head. ‘I don’t need anything yet after all that breakfast, Dante. Let’s go now.’

      As Dante had forecast, at the Academy of Fine Arts they had quite a wait among throngs of tourists with cameras and students with backpacks, but when they finally gained entrance to the star attraction Rose stood motionless in pure wonder at the sight of the monumental white figure gazing sternly far above their heads, the sling he would use to kill Goliath at the ready over one shoulder.

      ‘You are impressed?’ murmured Dante in her ear.

      ‘How could I not be?’ With reluctance, she dragged her eyes from the statue. ‘Thank you so much for bringing me here.’

      ‘It is my pleasure as much as yours, Rose. But now, if you have looked at David long enough, we shall go in search of food. Shall we go back to Caffe Rivoire, or would you like to try a different place?’

      ‘The Rivoire again, but just coffee and a snack, please.’

      ‘You shall have whatever your heart desires.’

      CHAPTER TWO

      TO DANTE’S AMUSEMENT Rose took surreptitious glances at her phone from time to time when they were seated among the greenery at a table close to the building, a little away from the press of crowds and pigeons in the Piazza.

      ‘You are expecting a call from your lover?’ he demanded at last.

      ‘Sorry. Just checking for any client problems,’ she lied. No way was she telling him she was checking on her child—who just happened to be his daughter. She thrust the phone in her bag, feeling suddenly cold. Would Dante try to lay claim to Bea if he found out about her? No way was she sharing her child with him. Bea was hers and hers alone.

      ‘You look tense. Forget the work for today,’ commanded Dante. ‘Let us enjoy this unexpected gift of time together. First you must rest for a while in your room and then later we shall go wherever you wish.’

      Rose forced a smile and insisted that she couldn’t waste precious time in resting, but after some of the café’s famous hot chocolate conceded that Dante’s idea was a good one after all.

      ‘Bene,’ he said as they walked back to the hotel. ‘Those beautiful eyes look heavy. We shall meet in the foyer at three, yes?’

      She frowned. ‘Look, Dante, I’m taking up a lot of your time. If you have other things to do—’

      ‘What could be more important than spending time with you, Rose?’

      ‘If you’re sure—’ A yawn overtook her mid-sentence, and Dante laughed.

      ‘You see? A rest is good, yes?’

      Rose nodded, embarrassed to feel glad of the rococo gilded cage instead of trudging up the stairs. ‘If I stayed in Florence for any length of time I’d get very lazy.’

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