Page 12 of The Roman's Woman (A Singular Obsession)

“Nevermind, you don’t have to tell me,” she said quickly, pulling the long strap of a travel purse over her head and across her shoulder.

“I don’t mind,” he assured her. “It had to do with her son. He’s been getting into trouble the last few years and it’s getting worse. Lucca is quite spoiled, but he’s starting to slide into criminal territory.” He kicked a stray piece of trash aside. “I’d rather not be involved, but in my family that’s not possible. Everybody is in everybody else’s business, and if you’re not they hunt you down and ask your opinion, anyway. Demand it, in some cases.”

Her head tilted to one side and gave him a sympathetic side glance. “I’m sorry. I understand if you’d rather not waste your time acting as tour guide today so you can attend to your family.”

“Are you kidding?” he laughed. “You’re saving me from them. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Her mouth pursed. “Only if you’re sure.”

“Oh, I’m certain,” he said, widening his eyes for emphasis before directing her up theVia dell’ Anguillara.

They walked a little further and he watched her carefully, gratified when her face lit up at the sight of theBasilica di Santa Croce.

“This was one of the places at the top of my list,” she said, beaming at him. Pleased, he started detailing the history of the church as the burial site of some of the most notable figures in Italian history.

The next few hours were some of the best of Gio’s life. He loved sharing this special place with Sophia. They saw the tombs NiccolòMachiavelli, Michelangelo, and Galileo as well as an altar monument to Dante Alighieri, which she assumed was his grave until he told her otherwise. He also showed her the tomb of Rossini, who had composed the famous opera, the Barber of Seville and the rows of inset chapels that lined the walls—including the Bardi chapel featuring the fresco of the death of Saint Francis by Giotto.

Eventually they wandered to the cloister and Pazzi chapel before rounding out their visit by exploring the adjoining museum.

After that, they were both starving, so he took her to a little out the way restaurant. He ordered a light veal dish and she ordered lasagna, self-consciously citing all of the walking they were doing as an excuse to splurge.

He was tempted to offer another form of calorie-burning exercise as a more pleasurable alternative to walking, but he bit his tongue. Instead, he suggested they spend the rest of the afternoon getting lost in the Uffizi, and was pleased when she agreed. He was able to show her his favorite paintings by Raphael, Titian, and Boticelli before she nudged him along to the neighboring science museum.

“I should have realized this would be a bigger draw for you than some old boring paintings,” he teased as she surreptitiously snapped a picture with her camera phone of Galileo’s finger on exhibit.

“I loved the art,” she assured him with her hand on his arm. “I just didn’t want to miss this. Galileo is one of my personal heroes.”

He wanted to ask for more details, but she wasn’t paying attention anymore. Her rapt attention was fixed on the dried and desiccated fingers, displayed behind glass like priceless treasures.

To each his own, he thought, taking advantage of her distraction to study the lines of her exquisite face.

Her fascination with the macabre display tickled him, particularly when he asked her what she was thinking about. She leaned toward him and whispered, “Cloning him,” before releasing a maniacal mad scientist cackle that drew a few stares.

The visit to the rest of the museum went by quickly, but he still had to hurry her out of there to a waiting car. It took them to the Piazzale Michelangelo so they could watch sunset from the peak. The plaza featured a bronze version of Michelangelo’s David overlooking the city and magnificent panoramic views. He took a dozen pictures of Sophia posing with the Duomo, the massive domed main cathedral of Florence, in the background. After they were driven back to town to enjoy dinner from another restaurant he loved, this one with a view of the Arno River and the Ponte Vecchio.

Exhausted, he and Sophia went their separate ways early, but not before he convinced her to spend the following day with him, as well. It wasn’t until he reached his penthouse apartment that he remembered he hadn’t told her who he was.

Merda. He had sworn to himself that he would come clean, but it had gotten lost in their easy conversation and light flirtation. Tomorrow, he would tell her the truth.

Chapter 5

It had been far too easy for Gio to talk Sophia into spending more time with him. Wondering idly where her suspicious nature had gone, she recognized she might be losing an uphill battle.

Her self-appointed tour guide was magnetic and articulate, with a breadth of knowledge that kept surprising her. From his choice of topics of conversation, it was clear that he was well read and spent a lot of time keeping up on current events. He knew more about the world than she did.

As a scientist, Sophia tended to isolate herself in the little bubble of like-minded academics that she spent time with. It wasn’t intentional, but happened as a matter of course. Scientists spent time with other scientists. Her friendship with Kelly and her former relationship with Richard were the exceptions to the rule, but both of them had entered her life because of their ties to her father. And both were academics, too, albeit in a different field.

Gio was her first experience of friendship outside the ivory tower, and it was remarkable how comfortable they were with each other. One conversation naturally evolved into another and another with an ease she wouldn’t have believed before meeting him. It felt effortless.

He was content to indulge her chosen activities, too. Their second day in Florence began by climbing to the top of the Duomo, the massive domed cathedral ofSanta Maria del Fiore.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Gio asked.

The signs at the bottom warned the visitors that is was four hundred and sixty-three steps to the top. There was no elevator. Many tourists had to turn back, unable to handle the narrow winding stairs that led to the fenced-in balcony at the summit.

“I play soccer,” she replied. “Don’t worry. My legs won’t give out.”

He looked down. She was wearing shorter shorts today, and her muscular thighs were more visible than the day before.

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