Chapter Nine #2
‘Would you like to take a seat,’ Rocco asked, ‘or stand and watch the view a little longer?’
Right now the view might be magnificent and captivating but this man behind her was all that held her attention.
Her heart beating a thrilling rhythm. What if he reached out again?
Touched? It had been so freeing that night of the ball.
She’d been like a bird released from its cage and flying for the first time.
The passion, the pleasure. The memory of it sparkled over her, fizzing through her veins like the finest champagne had replaced her blood.
But seduction wasn’t the game here. Conversation was, perhaps about the future and how they’d manage the complicated situation in which they’d found themselves.
‘I think I’d like to sit down.’
‘Of course.’ Rocco walked to the table and held out a chair. She sat as he pushed it in behind her, his manners impeccable. But as she knew, impeccable manners didn’t make a man. Richard had impeccable manners too. She’d always thought that meant he cared. It hadn’t.
She looked out over her left shoulder and realised Rocco had given her the seat with the best view. Rocco took his own, and a member of the service staff—clearly waiting for just this moment—stepped forwards.
He spoke quietly to Rocco in Italian.
‘What would you like to drink?’ Rocco asked. ‘I’ll have water for the table. Is there anything else?’
‘Sparkling water would be lovely.’
‘Make that two,’ Rocco said, smiling at the staff member. ‘Since you’re unable to have wine then neither will I.’
‘That’s kind of you.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s the least I can do. You’re carrying my child. Have been suffering because of it. What’s a glass of wine in the face of that? You’re making the biggest sacrifice. Allow me to make a small one.’
A sting at the back of her nose threatened tears. She blinked them away. When had anyone considered sacrificing for her? She couldn’t remember a time. It was always what she was required to do for others. Two glasses of sparkling water were delivered to the table. Rocco raised his.
‘I’d like to make a toast.’
Lily smiled. ‘To what?’
‘To whom. The woman who sold you that magnificent gown. She knew how to dress you.’
Rocco’s gaze locked onto her. Intense, appreciative.
She wondered if something similar appeared on hers.
She’d thought him handsome on the night of the masked ball: a dark, imposing, almost fairytale kind of figure.
At his home, he’d carried himself with an effortless, casual elegance.
But tonight, something seemed to pulse from him.
Rocco Silvestri. The billionaire heir to one of the finest furniture empires in the world. Playboy in full force.
It was almost a physical thing. His dark hair gleamed under the soft candlelight. His lips, full and tempting, carrying the merest of smiles. Again, that look on his face—openly admiring.
It was like walking from the shade into the bright sunlight.
He blinded her. She wasn’t sure how she’d survive spending much more time with him.
Venice had been a night of pure passion and carnal pleasure.
This was something else entirely. She wanted to simply bask in it.
No-one had ever looked at her the way Rocco did in this moment.
As if she were the only person in the world.
The only person for him. It was intoxicating and terrifying all at once.
‘This restaurant is famed for its degustation menu,’ he said, breaking the charged moment. ‘I called ahead and let the chef know you’re pregnant, and to be aware there are some foods you shouldn’t eat. I also thought the smaller portions might be helpful. Are you hungry?’
It was all a bit much, overwhelming yet in the best kind of way. The way he was thinking about her and her pregnancy needs.
‘I am. A degustation menu would be delicious. Thank you.’
‘They usually pair it with wines. They did say they could pair it with mocktails, should you wish.’
Rocco sat there and Lily basked in his commanding presence.
The way his clothes seemed to lovingly embrace his strong, muscular body.
This was a man who drank his coffee short and black.
His clothes were impeccable, but without fuss or affectation.
Nothing about him was …unnecessary. She tried to imagine him with a mocktail replete with little umbrellas and a straw. The thought made her smile.
‘What’s that look?’ he asked, his tempting mouth curling into his own grin.
‘An outrageous mocktail doesn’t really seem like your vibe.’
He really smiled then, showing perfect white teeth, before a chuckle rumbled out of him, deep and throaty. The sound vibrating through her on a delicious, tingling journey.
‘I’m all for trying new things.’
She shook her head.
‘I’m happy to stay with sparkling water. Champagne can wait till the baby’s born.’ She placed her hand over her belly, almost as a reflex. His gaze drifted to where her hand lay.
‘That will be a celebration.’
‘Will it?’ she asked, a sense of uncertainty creeping back unbidden and unwelcome.
‘Sì. Of course the birth of a baby is cause for celebration.’
‘That wasn’t your initial reaction to the news. You weren’t happy to see me.’
The look on his face morphed to something suitably pained, a tightness in his eyes. ‘We got off …what’s the phrase? On the wrong foot.’
‘Which was the right foot? The one I didn’t throw up on?’
Lily laughed at the mortifying memory. Rocco joined her.
‘That was most definitely the wrong foot. In my defence, I’d had a difficult few months, both personally and in the business.’
Was that why the passion between them in Venice had been so ferocious? Because both of them were running from something, trying to immerse themselves in the pleasure of each other rather than think of real life?
‘I’m sorry.’ She reached out to touch his hand, to comfort. Then hesitated. That wasn’t the kind of relationship they had here. She drew her hand back and Rocco’s gazed followed, his pupils darkening. ‘Anything you want to get off your chest?’
He shook his head. ‘The past’s behind me. I’m for moving forward. But take this as an apology.’
‘An apology?’ She tilted her head. ‘I thought that article written about you said you were unapologetic.’
His eyes widened. ‘I didn’t read the article, so I’ll defer to you about what it claims. All I can say is that I handled the situation poorly. Had I my time over, I would have done things differently.’
‘Thank you. That …means more than you can possibly know.’
She’d not received an apology from Richard for the cruelty of his words.
He’d been completely unashamed. Her parents hadn’t apologised for trying to force her to marry a man who didn’t really want her, rejecting her when she wouldn’t.
Yet this man, who in some ways held her and her baby’s future in his hands, was happy to admit he was wrong.
She turned away from him so he couldn’t see how his admission affected her.
Her throat grew tight. The tears she hadn’t wanted to fall, threatened again, her eyes blurring.
It had to be the pregnancy hormones. Waterworks continually threatened.
She blinked and one errant tear dripped to her cheek.
Lily brushed it away, as if pretending there was something in her eye.
Did Rocco accept the ruse? He reached out and took her hand in his, not chickening out like she’d done.
That strength and solidity returned her own equilibrium.
‘Are you enjoying the Eternal City, Lily? Does it meet with your approval?’
She looked out again at the Colosseum, its ancient arches beautifully illuminated, the history of the place wrapping around her. Giving her perspective like the Baths had done today.
‘From what little I’ve seen? Yes, I do.’
‘And what did you see before you came to my home?’
His thumb stroked back and forth across the back of her hand. She shivered with the pleasure of it, even though she believed the move had meant to be more comforting than seductive.
‘Since I was staying close to the Spanish Steps, I walked down those, saw the Trevi Fountain. Though I didn’t throw a coin, but I guess it doesn’t matter since I’m probably going to come back here, aren’t I?’
At that moment a waiter arrived at their quiet private space.
Rocco released her hand as a plate with a perfect stuffed zucchini flower resting on an artfully painted swipe of tomato sauce was placed in front of her.
She missed his touch, the realisation that she had to leave here soon.
There was a sense as though there were things left unfinished between them.
The first dish looked beautiful, almost too good to eat.
But her stomach growled and she couldn’t wait any longer.
Lily took a mouthful, closing her eyes as the flavours burst in her mouth.
The creaminess of the flower’s filling. The zing of acid from the tomato.
It had been so long since she’d enjoyed food, she might have moaned.
It didn’t take her long to finish the dish.
She looked up at Rocco and he’d fixed her with a gaze of such intensity that it was impossible to ignore.
Like she was the focus of his whole existence.
Lily had spent so much of the first months of her pregnancy exhausted, then sick.
But right now, sitting in this breathtaking setting, in a glorious dress with a handsome man, attraction vibrating and electric between them, Lily felt exquisitely, almost painfully, alive.
‘To come back, you’d have to leave in the first place,’ Rocco murmured.
‘That’s what we agreed. I’d stay until we received the DNA test.’
‘Why leave at all?’ he said, a gentle smile playing on his lips.