Page 36 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

He stared out of the window as the bright lights of Turin flashed past in a blur on their way to the opera house, wondering how much longer she would stay.

Would he decide when that moment had arrived?

Or would she?

And why was he viewing the prospect with increasing reluctance?

A pulse began to pound at his temple as the car drew up outside the Teatro Regio, and beside him he felt Kelly stiffen. Reaching up, he turned her face towards him and in the dimness of the car he was aware of her strained expression.

‘What’s the matter?’

Her nonchalant shrug didn’t quite disguise the faint frown lines on her forehead. ‘I’ve never been to the opera before.’

‘So what?’

‘Oh, come on, Romano. Even you can’t be that insensitive.’

‘Even me?’ he echoed. ‘Am I that much of a brute?’

There was a pause. ‘Only sometimes,’ she said softly.

Her fingers reached up to touch his jaw and something about the tenderness of the gesture made him jerk his head back as if he’d been scalded, but she rested her hand back on her lap as if she hadn’t noticed his instinctive recoil.

‘I’m scared of feeling out of my depth,’ she continued, her voice sounding forced. ‘Of everyone else knowing how to behave, but not me.’

‘Well, unless you’re planning on getting up in the middle for a comfort break or leaping on stage to join in with the main aria, I’m sure you’ll be fine.’

‘Stop it.’ Her lips started to twitch. ‘I’mserious.’

‘And so am I,’ he said, relieved to have broken the sudden tension which seemed to have descended on them. ‘Just follow everyone else’s lead—that’s how everyone learns. We’re here and it’s going to be fine. You might even enjoy it. Come on.’ He stepped out of the car to the inevitable flash of cameras and, despite being taller than usual in her sparkly shoes, she looked so small and vulnerable as she slid to her feet beside him. Was it that which made him hold his hand out to catch hers, or the sudden desire to make amends for his occasionally brutish behaviour?

Her fingers laced in his, they entered the iconic building, with its eye-catching scarlet seats curving beneath the bright spill of modern chandeliers.

He glanced up towards one of the boxes to see an instantly recognisable figure, his old face as wrinkled as a walnut, and Romano’s lips curved with faint amusement to see Silvano di Saccucci. The last time they’d met the octogenarian had been bad-temperedly refusing to sell him his company because he disapproved of his lifestyle. Yet now the old man was inclining his head politely in his direction and Romano found himself automatically returning the courtesy, before giving Kelly’s fingers a quick squeeze.

‘Okay?’ he questioned.

‘So far, so good.’

She looked up into his face, his diamonds glittering like ice in the thick fall of fiery hair, and as he smiled back he could hear someone nearby murmuring his name with a note of surprise. His first thought was that this outing was definitely going to provoke gossip in salons across the city.

And the second, which followed on almost immediately, was that he really didn’t care.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

KELLY TOOK Asip of coffee, although it was difficult to focus on the heady brew when her attention was completely dominated by the sight of Romano reading the newspaper on the other side of the breakfast bar. Did he sense that she was watching him and was that why a speculative smile was curving his lips?

She took another sip, trying to calm the clamour of her senses and to quash that annoying little spark of hope which never seemed to go away.

Last night he had been different. He’d held her hand in public and silently handed her a pristine handkerchief when the tears had poured down her cheeks at the end ofTosca, reassuring her that, although he loathed tears, crying at the opera was the exception to the rule. She had sniffed and giggled at this and he had kissed her passionately in the back of the limousine on the way home and in that moment she had felt very safe and wanted and protected.

But that was just wishful thinking. That was what she needed to remember. It didn’t mean anything, she told herself fiercely. It was simply another illustration of his mercurial nature and she needed to be constantly aware of how dangerous that could be if she started misinterpreting it and mistaking it for growing affection. She started speaking—mostly to steer her thoughts away from their current pointless path. ‘I didn’t quite catch the name of that man we met at the opera last night.’

‘Silvano di Saccucci. He’s a very famous car manufacturer,’ he supplied in answer to her raised eyebrows, as he lowered his newspaper. ‘Who seemed to like you,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘A lot.’

‘Well, I liked him, too. He was really sweet.’ Initially, Kelly had been nervous when they had been invited into the old man’s box, but the octogenarian had quickly put her at her ease, although she had refused the flute of chilled champagne which someone had tried to press into her hand.

‘And what were the two of you talking about so intently?’ Romano enquired curiously.

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