Chapter 31


By nightfall we were dining in a restaurant on the river, enjoying the stunning city lights as the Florentine nightlife came into full swing. Tonight it was Asian fusion which was not something I would have expected to come across in the heart of Italy but found myself delighted by it nonetheless. Soon, any memory of our encounter with the photographer was forgotten. It was going on midnight by the time we made it back to the Palazzo. Feeling tired but satisfied from a perfect day spent with the husband I loved, I was completely oblivious to the man that greeted us in the foyer.

"Zingaro!"

Alessandro stopped at the sound of his name and we spun to greet the older man who had a woman hanging from his arm. From the way he was dressed I would have wagered he was probably as wealthy as Alessandro. He whispered something in the ear of his woman and then with a pat on her butt he sent her on her way.

"Marco," said Alessandro with about as much enthusiasm as a man who was in the process of being strangled.

"What's this I read about you in the papers?" Marco gave me a quick once over, his lip curling with distaste before his focus snapped back to Alessandro.

"All being blown out of proportion, as per usual," Alessandro drawled. "This is Lisabetta, my wife. Lizzie, this is Marco Calvetti, Lydia's father."

Well that explained his distaste. He probably had his heart set on his daughter marrying Alessandro. What father wouldn't?

"Nice to meet you." I attempted my sweetest smile which went down about as well as if I had bared my teeth and hissed at him. He looked mildly offended.

"And what family do you reign from, piccola?" Now he was planting a charming smile on his snake-like face.

"I... we... the... Greens?" Was he asking for my pedigree? Because face it, I had none. We were farmers. Not billionaires.

"Lisabetta has been instrumental in aiding my father with settling in Australia." Alessandro breezed. Not entirely the truth but I wasn't about to argue with that. "She has been an associate of the Zingaro family for…" He tilted his head to look down at me. "How long, Lizzie?"

I gaped. How long had I been working at that library for? "Three... four years?" I pushed out a chuckle. "It's sometimes hard to recall."

I shot an apologetic glance at Alessandro but he was busy fake-smiling at Marco. Marco, on the other hand, seemed to be processing this information... or lack thereof... that Alessandro was supplying him. Just then one of the hotel staff approached us, begging our pardon for the interruption. He explained something to Alessandro and he nodded, snapping straight from social-mode to businessman mode.

"My apologies, Marco but I must deal with this. Lizzie, I will meet you back at the suite. I won't be long." He planted a kiss on my lips and then bid Marco good evening.

Instead of leaving, as I had expected he would, Marco stayed put. He gave me a more thorough glimpse-over now that Alessandro was no longer around.

"Lisabetta," he purred and I found myself cringing. There was something about him that reminded me of Lydia. He was a social manipulator. "Please allow me to escort you to your suite."

"Oh, you don-" I went to decline but he was already holding his arm out for me to take.

"I insist. It is only polite that I do so."

I tentatively took his arm which felt much softer than the firmness of my husband. The man was not as tall or imposing as Alessandro but he exuded a great deal of charm which I was sure he often put to use.

"I heard about you from Lydia. She mentioned you lunched with her yesterday and you speak very limited Italian, yes?"

I gave him a nod. "Yes. I'm still learning. I-"

"And you enjoyed lunch?" He cut me off and I frowned. Was he always this pushy?

We entered the lift and he punched the number for the penthouse suite that I supposed he realized Alessandro and I were occupying.

"I often stay in that suite when I'm in Florence. It is lovely isn't it? I was most disappointed that I had to stay in a lesser suite tonight."

"Oh," I said. "I'm so sorry. I'm sure Alessandro would be happy to move us."

"No, it's fine," Marco chuckled. "My present suite is just as stunning. I'm sure you will be aware by now, your lover spares no expense on his luxury hotels."

I wanted to point out the fact that he wasn't just my lover but he wasn't letting me get a word in edge-wise.

"That was a particularly unfortunate photo the press captured of you in the papers. Or fortunate, I suppose. If that sort of publicity is what you're after. In which case congratulations, you achieved what you set out to achieve, you now have Italy's attention."

I blossomed red. "I assure you, that is not what-"

"Ah here is your suite, I believe." Marco followed me from the lift into the marble foyer and presented me to the intricately decorated double doors that separated me from my safe haven away from this man. I fumbled for the key card that insisted on sitting at the bottom of my clutch. "Here, allow me."

I stared on, mortified as this man I had known for the space of ten minutes reached over and grabbed my clutch from me. He managed to snatch up the key card in one clean sweep and promptly unlocked the door for me. He handed me back the wretched bag and held the door open by standing halfway into the suite.

"Lizzie?" I stopped, feeling the cold shudder at his mention of my name. Marco fished a business card from his pocket, his eyes giving me another once-over and this time his appraisal brought back a smirk. "You seem like a fun girl, piccola. When Alessandro tires of you, as I'm sure he will, you may call me. I know how to look after my women. You will want for nothing and I'll give you a good time."

And with that he swept out of the room and pulled the door shut behind him.

It took a moment for Marco's proposition to sink in. When it did, it took every ounce of my will not to rip the door open, chase him down and demand him to explain himself. What part of Alessandro's wife did he not understand?! He thought I was what... up for a little affair on the side? This was all Lydia's doing. It had to be. She was a jealous, scheming bitch who was bent on getting between me and Alessandro. Suddenly I wasn't sure if I wanted to scream or vomit. Maybe both. Macro Calvetti as well as the whole god damn country had gotten their facts wrong about me. I went to rip up the wretched card that still burned in my hands but it was thick and I only managed to slice my finger on the sharp cardboard.

"Damn it!" I cussed out loud. I'd just gotten blood on my expensive dress. Great.

I made a bolt for the bathroom and quickly wrapped up the offending finger in a wad of toilet paper. Then locating a wash cloth, I ran it under some soapy water and attempted to blot out the blood on my dress. The pretty blue silk of the dress quickly turned dark, my dabbing doing nothing for the stain at all. I cursed again. Then giving up on that endeavour, resigned myself to the inevitability that I had just managed to ruin a five thousand euro dress. Alessandro arrived back at the suite in time to find me sitting on the edge of the bath in a partially drenched dress and a finger wrapped up in toilet paper.

"What happened, cara?" he asked, concern washing over his face.

I snapped from my concentrated stare at the wall and sniffed back a subdued sulk.

"I cut my finger." I showed him my handiwork by flipping him the bird because that was the finger with the cut.

He unravelled the toilet paper and squinted. "On what?"

I pointed at Marco's stupid card that now lay on the floor by my feet. Alessandro reached for it and gave it a quick glance over. The question visible on his lips. What was Marco doing giving me his number?

"He offered me a job as his mistress once you got tired of me," I filled, and he turned an instant shade of white.

"He... what?" He practically spat.

I gave a dark chuckle which was about all I could do to alleviate the interesting mix of dread and numbness I felt inside. "Well on the plus side he reckons he knows how to give me a good time."

It took considerably less time for that imagery to sink into his mind than it had mine. Alessandro's entire body went rigid, nostrils flaring and eyes practically popping from his head. A lovely shade of fire-engine red leaked into his cheeks. Then before I knew it he was pivoting on his feet and making a stalk for the door.

"Where are you going?" I wrapped up my finger and followed him back into the living area where he was in the process of wrenching the hotel phone off the receiver.

Ignoring me, he growled a bunch of orders to the front desk in Italian then after a silent moment he received his answer and slammed the phone back down.

"Alessandro, are you doing what I think you're doing?" He was about to hunt down Marco in his hotel suite.

"And what do you think I'm doing, Lizzie?" he barked.

He moved for the front door but before he had a chance to reach for it I leapt forward and grabbed his arm.

"Alessandro! Don't! Please, just leave it."

His huge frame twisted around to meet me and I suddenly found myself in front and centre of his boiling rage. "You're defending him now? So what, you're actually considering his sick offer?"

My jaw dropped at this. "What the hell, Alessandro?"

But he just stared. Blind fury emanated from him like a hot furnace. "Are you?"

I let his arm go like it had burnt me. "What on earth is wrong with you? Of course I'm not! How could you even think that? The man is old enough to be my father, for god's sake!"

"You have his business card!" He waved the offending object like it was on fire.

"He thrust it at me before he left!" I shrieked. "I was too shocked to do anything about it until he was gone. I cut my finger on it trying to rip it up!"

Alessandro regarded my finger and then the bloody evidence left behind on the card. He gave one more flare of his nostrils before finally his head dropped and the rage dissipated.

"I'm sorry, Lizzie," he mumbled. "That was ridiculous of me to make such an accusation."

"Damn right it was!" I burst, tears burned at the back of my eyes but I forced them away with a series of blinks. "Why in the world would you even think that of me in the first place?"

"It's nothing. I'm sorry. I won't think that again. I was just too angry..." He pulled me in for a hug that verged on a strangle hold.

I found my face pressed up against a well-defined pectoral and noted how hard his heart was hammering in his chest. He was stressed out of his brains. Traumatised. Had he actually believed that I was considering Marco Calvetti's disgusting offer? I let him hold me until he calmed down and I felt his arms slacken. I managed to pull my head up to look at him. The redness in his cheeks had since subsided to a pasty white and his eyes looked dead as he stared at the empty space over the top of my head.

"Alessandro, are you alright?" I asked.

He snapped from his thoughts and glanced back down at me. Was that dampness at the corner of his eyes?

I swallowed. "Oh Alessandro, I'm sorry about what I said before. Talking like Marco's horrible proposition had any appeal to me at all. It didn't and it never will. You must believe me, I would never do that to you. Ever."

"I know, cara." The small smile tugged at his lips and he pressed a kiss into my forehead.

Then finally relinquishing me from his hold, he stepped back and released a loud exhale. "It's been a big day. We should get to bed."

I followed his glance to the small bloodstain that I had been attempting to blot out on my dress.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. "I think I've ruined the new dress."

"That's okay. It's just a dress."

He went and searched the bathroom for a moment and then came out holding a small first aid kit and I piqued a curious eyebrow.

"It's a protocol I enforce in all of my hotels," he explained, placing it on the table by the phone and fishing a Band-Aid and some alcohol rub from it. "Every room must have a first aid kit for just such emergencies. Now give me your finger."

I allowed him to unravel my makeshift plaster and squinted at the sting of alcohol on the cardboard cut. He apologised before gently wrapping it up in a fresh Band-Aid, then holding it to his lips, applied the finishing touches by giving it a kiss. I smiled up at him, my beautiful man who held too many secrets. I could tell he was still rattled about what had just happened between us but he refused to let on what had happened to him to send his suspicions so out of whack in the first place. Had someone rejected him in the past? Left him for someone else? I felt ill at the thought. There was still so much I didn't know about him.

"Lizzie, stop thinking so much."

I snapped from my thoughts only to realise Alessandro was watching me. He moved closer to cup my cheek and leaned in for a slow kiss. My mouth opened to receive the sensual push of his tongue and I felt my knees go weak. He tasted so good. I wrapped my arms around his firm waist, feeling the familiar surge of warmth between my thighs. But instead of deepening the kiss as I thought he would, Alessandro lifted his head to take me into his sights once again, his eyes black with desire.

"I need you in the here and now tonight," he whispered.