Chapter 20
Beth stood at the entrance to the Gallerie dell’Accademia, her mask in her hand.
She’d opted for a black half-mask with gold detailing and gold lace at the top, and she and Cesca had spent ages choosing a red lipstick that would complement her pale colouring.
Her hair was pinned up in a beautiful clip they’d found, and she wore a gold necklace that sat at the base of her throat, a small solitaire diamond nestling just above the hint of cleavage.
A dark, velvety sky overhead was covered in clouds, and she hoped it wasn’t going to rain. Guests were already arriving, and Signor Sanna welcomed them. When he spotted Beth, his face lit up.
‘Beth! I am so happy to see you.’ He smiled warmly, embracing her.
‘It’s lovely to see you, Signor Sanna. How are you?’
‘I am well, of course. And you?’
‘I’m good.’
‘Really?’ He ducked his head, catching her gaze to make sure she wasn’t lying.
She grinned widely. ‘I really am. I’m enjoying running my own bookshop.’
‘You always loved books as much as paintings.’
‘I suppose I did.’ Though she hadn’t let herself realise it, working so hard on her career and focusing only on the next step.
‘So you are happy?’
As the feeling flooded her body, she didn’t hesitate in replying. ‘Yes, I am. Very.’
‘Good, good! Now, I must go and greet the other guests. Have fun tonight, Beth. You deserve it.’
She kissed him goodbye and hugged him tightly to let him know how happy she was with the change of direction her life had taken.
‘Beth?’
She turned as she heard Marco call her name and was pleased to see him pause, his eyes scanning her with obvious surprise and, she was pleased to see that hint of longing and lust she’d hoped for.
The smile that spread over his face sent a thrill through her.
He didn’t look bad himself wearing a black suit with a crisp white shirt and black bow tie.
His mask was in his hand, and he’d opted for a plain black velvet one with ribbon detailing. As he smiled, her body tingled.
‘I – you …’ He cleared his throat, a blush rising up his cheeks. ‘You look stunning, Beth. Beautiful.’
‘Better than my normal black trousers and jumpers, I think.’
‘You always look beautiful.’
He stressed the word always as he met her eye and, despite the cold, a warmth grew in her chest. He stepped closer, taking her hand and she moved into him, lifting her head so he could kiss her.
His lips were gentle, not disturbing her bold red lipstick, but the slight touch was enough to set a fire inside her heart and for her to want him to know just how much she was falling for him.
He crooked his elbow for her to take his arm, and she slid her hand through.
Below his jacket she could feel the movement of his muscles, the tension of biceps worked hard by rowing.
Inside the entranceway, the one she’d walked in every day, she took a glass of champagne from the tray offered to her by a server.
Marco took one too and sipped. She watched the movement of his throat, a smattering of stubble on his jaw.
‘How does it feel being back here?’ he asked, adjusting his collar.
She was surprised by his question, and Beth looked around taking in the paintings, inhaling the familiar smell.
‘It does feel strange. And a little sad.’ They moved through to one of the galleries.
The central seating had been moved away to create a large, clear space.
They paused in front of a Tiepolo and her skin prickled as she took in the delicate brushwork.
‘I miss seeing paintings like this every day. Being in a museum or gallery it just feels like a – a gift. But I’ve always loved books and reading too, and being surrounded by them all day – and the people who love them as much as I do – is incredible.
I can’t deny as well—’ she lowered her voice and moved nearer to him so Signor Sanna wouldn’t hear ‘—I’m also loving the freedom of being my own boss.
I’ve never had that before and it’s scary but also … wonderful.’
‘I know what you mean. I’ve always loved it too and I wouldn’t have had that if I’d gone into the family business like my brothers.’
Someone tried to edge past and knocked into Beth, giving their apologies.
Marco’s hand circled her waist, and she turned to him, suddenly realising how close they were together.
His eyes were drawn once more to her mouth, and she’d never felt more naked but also, as she’d hoped, confident.
She flicked her eyes up to meet his face, and before his grip loosened so she could move back to where she’d been standing, as if he couldn’t help himself, he placed another gentle kiss on her lips.
Her body grew hot. ‘So shall we find Signora Cadora and see if we can convince her to sign with you?’
He took a gulp of his drink. ‘Do we have to do it right now? Can’t we see some paintings first?’
‘I suppose we can, yes.’ She giggled. ‘But you can’t put it off forever.’
‘A few minutes will be enough.’
He was nervous and if he had a free hand he would have scrunched the hair at the back of his head.
They moved through the crowd, smiling and chatting with people they both knew.
Beth was able to introduce Marco to some experts he hadn’t met before, and though they were mostly curators or conservators, she hoped they might still prove useful to him one day.
Networking, she knew from experience, could never be underestimated.
As they moved into another gallery, Marco paused. ‘There she is.’
Signora Cadora was surrounded by a group of people, who all rapturously listened to whatever it was she was saying. As she reached the punchline of her joke, they all laughed.
‘Are you ready?’ Beth asked seeing the nervousness in his jaw.
‘No.’
She laughed. ‘It’s going to be fine.’
‘What will I say? She always makes me so nervous. I can’t just go in and say, “Do you need PR? I’d love to help”.’
Beth laughed again. ‘No, don’t do that. Just introduce yourself and say how much you enjoy her work. Is there anyone else there you know?’
He studied the group. ‘The lady with the long dangly earrings is a ceramicist I’ve worked with before, but she prefers to hire me for occasional shows.’
‘Then leave it to her to mention your PR.’
‘What if she doesn’t?’
‘She will. Trust me.’ Secretly pleased her experience was coming in handy, she guided them over. ‘Come on, let’s go.’
As they approached, the group kindly made room for them to join the conversation.
‘Marco!’ the ceramicist said. ‘How lovely to see you.’
‘Good to see you too, Vittoria. I hope business is good?’
‘Business is very good, thank you! I’ve been meaning to call you about an exhibition I have coming up.’ Beth grinned at Marco who, politely, kept his eyes on Vittoria. She turned to Signora Cadora. ‘Marco runs an excellent PR firm. He always helps get people to my exhibitions.’
‘Not that you need any help,’ he added to the signora and Beth had to hide her smile at the blush creeping up his cheeks.
She gently tightened her grip on his arm for reassurance.
‘I just wanted to say how much I admire your work, signora. I saw your last exhibition and thought the pieces were wonderful.’
Signora Cadora, who was older than Beth had expected, nodded her head benevolently. ‘It’s very nice to meet you too. What is the name of your agency?’
‘It’s the Di Rienzo Agency.’
‘Your family makes glass does it not?’
His mouth dropped open. ‘Yes, yes, that’s right. We’ve been making glass on Murano for hundreds of years. My father is very proud of the family heritage.’
‘And so he should be. Do you have a card?’
His hands flew to every pocket, unable to find anything, and Beth’s heart rate increased. He hadn’t left them at home, had he? Then she realised he was just excited and nervous, like a kid at Christmas. Finally, he found them in his inside jacket pocket and handed one over.
‘Grazie.’
She didn’t say any more and, as she sensed the awkwardness seeping in as Marco stood grinning, Beth leaned forwards. ‘Enjoy your evening.’ She guided Marco away, who seemed to still be in shock.
Beth pulled Marco to the side of the room. ‘That went well, I think.’
‘She spoke to me,’ Marco said, causing Beth to giggle. ‘And she asked for my card.’
His eyes were wide, and he couldn’t look more different to the aloof businessman he’d been at the start of their working relationship.
‘Thank you, Beth. Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.
How much you mean to me.’ He took her hand and pulled it to his lips and an electric shock prickled her skin. ‘We should dance. Come.’
He led her through to another gallery where people were dancing to the small classical ensemble.
He put his mask on, tying the ribbon behind his head and, following his lead, she did the same.
Marco took her hand, pulling her into the crowd.
His fingers tightened around hers while his other hand pressed gently into her lower back.
As he drew her closer, she feared the feelings swirling so strongly inside her, and that he’d see her desire for him on her face.
The mask gave a sense of protection, confidence even and as they swayed to the music, unspeaking, she felt safe in his arms, happy.
It was like this was the only person whose arms were meant to be around her.
But what was Marco feeling? Were similar thoughts going through his head?
Feeling bold with the coverage of the mask, she lifted her gaze just as he lowered his to look at her.
The air stilled around them, the music fading in her ears. It was just the two of them and this special, wonderful connection that had formed between them.
‘Beth,’ he said breathily. ‘I want you to know how happy I am that we met. That … that I am …’
‘Yes?’