Chapter 22 #2
He held out his hand and she took it, the warmth of his body filtering into her fingers.
He led her around the side of the church where a grizzled old man was stooped over a gondola.
When he saw Marco, he rose slowly, his body unfurling as he pushed himself up using his thighs for support.
His voice was gravelly and hoarse as he spoke in rapid Italian, greeting Marco.
‘Beth, this is Signor Uttini, he is a gondola maker.’
‘A gondola maker?’ Of course she knew gondola makers existed, but she wasn’t sure why Marco was introducing her to one. It wasn’t as if she could display them on the book barge. They were the same size as her little floating bookshop.
‘It’s lovely to meet you,’ she continued, but she wasn’t sure how to continue the conversation and turned to Marco as a young man drew up on a gondola and pulled in next to them.
Signor Uttini motioned to the tiny boat and Marco moved towards it, holding out his hand. He was taking her on a gondola ride! Beth laughed, her excitement escaping. She’d always wanted to do this but had been waiting for the right person to do it with. And now, she’d found him.
Marco climbed into the boat confidently and Beth followed. The seating was snug, and their bodies pressed close together. Marco lifted his arm and draped it around her shoulders.
The young man handed her a blanket to place around her legs. It went over both her and Marco and, with him close to her, she felt snug and warm, leaning into his strong body.
‘I thought, as you’d never had a gondola ride, you should experience one. And it is nicer when it’s quiet. A gondola ride in summer is special but when you’re the only people on the canal, it feels like Venice is yours alone.’
‘It’s a wonderful idea.’
‘You’re not cold?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s perfect.’
The gondolier popped open a bottle of prosecco and handed them both a glass.
Beth sipped hers, enjoying the delicious tingle of the bubbles on her tongue.
As the stars began to shine, glittering in the soft evening sky, the gondola crept peacefully and serenely through the Venice canals.
They passed familiar sights and wound their way along the narrow water lanes, between houses.
Beth even noticed the gondolier use his foot to steer them away from the sides rather than the oar, but he knew his craft and she felt safe and at ease, especially with Marco next to her.
‘How did it go with your dad?’ she asked. ‘Has his attitude changed at all?’
‘You know, I think it has a little. He won’t admit it, but he was at least happy to listen to some of my ideas and given a few more days he might even agree.’
‘That’s wonderful! I’m so glad. For both of you.’
Marco tapped his glass against hers and they drank in cheers.
‘My mother wants you to come for dinner again. We always have another big family meal at the end of Carnevale. I think she has a soft spot for you, especially after you charmed my papa.’
‘Charmed him? I thought he wanted to kick me out.’
‘He has a grumpy face. He doesn’t always mean to look like that. He liked you. And she did too.’
‘They’re very kind to invite me.’
‘Will you come?’ His voice shook a little and she nodded.
Beth told him about her plans for a grand reopening. ‘Perhaps some of the artists could attend and display their work and talk to people?’
‘It sounds a wonderful idea.’
After a moment’s silence, Marco spoke again, his voice more tremulous than before. ‘Are you glad you stayed here in Venice?’
‘Very.’ She turned to him. ‘It was a big change for me. I don’t do things spontaneously. I never have. But this … staying here … it just felt right. And I’m glad I trusted my instincts for once. Nowhere has felt as home as Venice does.’
‘Good. I’m glad you stayed too. I … I like you, Beth. Very much, but you already know that.’
The boat passed under the Pont des Amours, the Bridge of Lovers, and it was almost as if the world was sending her a sign, just like it had when she had lost her placement and heard the book barge was for sale.
The beautiful, iconic bridge of Venice seemed to speak to her, to prompt her into taking the next step, grabbing this moment with both hands before it could fade away as it had at the masquerade ball.
That same feeling of impetuosity began to fizzle in the pit of her stomach, and she turned to look at him.
She felt his arm tighten around her, and she leaned forwards and pressed her lips to Marco’s.
His mouth moved with hers and his hand threaded into her hair. A feeling of complete bliss washed over her, calming her nerves whilst exciting her at the same time. The kiss deepened and lingered until a moment later, they stared into each other’s eyes.
Marco stroked her cheek. ‘I was not expecting you to do that, but I’m very glad you did. I – I think I’m falling in love with you, Beth.’
Her breath hitched as she took in the words she’d longed to hear. ‘Really?’ she whispered. ‘I’m falling in love with you too.’
He kissed her again and she closed her eyes, melting into the moment.
She had no idea how long they stayed like that, enjoying the feel of his lips on hers, of his warm breath mixing with her own, but eventually, they returned to watching the beautiful city pass them by, drinking prosecco.
Francesca would soon tell him about her and Emilio, and without that weight on her shoulders, their relationship would flourish.
A voice threatened to ask about children, but she ignored it.
His arm pulled her close, and she let her thoughts glide away behind her as the gondola slicked its way through the water.
Tonight, there was nothing but her and Marco and the city.