Page 17 of The Virgin's Dance with the Devil
A better answer than Rico could have dreamed.
Gently stroking her slender fingers, he was willing to bet more of his fortune that Marisa had had as much sleep as he’d managed. His intention of a quick read of the opening pages of her book hadn’t quite gone as planned. He’d had to re-read the first few pages a couple of times, but by the time he got to Henry watching Clare leaping for joy, something clicked in, and when he’d next looked at his watch it had been three a.m.
Far from falling asleep, he’d lain awake another hour thinking of his next plan of attack with Marisa. His plans had been abandoned when he'd failed to find her anywhere. He’d seen her parents, but of Marisa there had been nothing. Instinct had seen him stroll out of the grounds and speak to the discreetly armed guards keeping the filthy rich guests safe and confirm she’d headed into Accardiano alone. It had been instinct that had seen him make the church his first port of call. If she wanted to interpret that as divine intervention, then all the better.
“What we feel for each other is natural,” he murmured. “We were made to experience love and desire.”
“I know,” she agreed with a whisper, her eyes shining. “I just never thought I’d feel them for someone like you.”
He brought her delicate fingers to his lips and brushed a kiss to the tips, fighting to tamp down the exhilaration shooting through him at her admission. All those hours and hours of research for his letters and hours and hours of lunches had paid off.
“I can’t pretend my past doesn’t exist,” he said in his most solemn voice. “I’ve done bad things. I’ve hurt people. I’ve extorted, used violence… I would imagine most of the stories you’ve heard about me are true.” He smiled wryly. “Although one must always account for embellishment. But those things are in my past. My future is right here.” A future that would hopefully consist of Mattia’s Swiss chalet and Tommaso’s Ferrari, and not the loss of his Neiman Marcus. “Isn’t the whole of Christianity based on the forgiveness of our sins?” he cajoled.
Whatever answer she would have given had to wait as their coffees were brought to their table.
After adding a couple of sugars to his coffee, he was taking a sip of it when she said, “I never did tell you that I once wanted to be a nun, did I.”
He eyed her contemplatively. Anyone else making a statement like that would have received laughter. In this case, it was Marisa who laughed, and just like that, the tension that had been practically vibrating from her since he’d joined her in the church lifted.
This time, she was the one to reach across the table for his hand.
“I was a very devout child,” she said. “My first holy communion was the pinnacle of my childhood – I genuinely could not wait to join everyone else in taking communion each week. When it came to my confirmation, I was even more intense. That date I told you about…”
“With the gag-making kisser?” he teased.
She grinned and nodded. “That came within a month of my confirmation, and as I was already caught up in a religious fervour, I decided the church was my calling and that as soon as I was old enough, I would join a convent and dedicate my life to God.”
“How long did that idea last?”
“Two years.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That long? What made you change your mind?”
“It was more of a gradual realisation that I wasn’t cut out for it and would make aterrible nun than anything specific. I’m not great at forgiveness when someone hurts someone I love, which isn’t a great quality for a nun, and also, I made quite a dramatic announcement to my family about it, so there was some embarrassment about changing my mind – I’m afraid the sin of pride is strong in me.”
He laughed, enjoying the dry way she was relating her story, although he wished he’d done some mugging up on bible stories so he could dazzle her with them. “That must be the only sin you are guilty of.”
“I’ve been guilty of a number of them,” she admitted wryly.
“Impossible.”
“I’m human, Rico. I believe in the bible’s teachings and try to follow them, but not blindly – I have a mind too, and free will, and why would we be given those things if not to use them?”
Smiling, he rubbed his thumb over the soft skin of her hand. “I’m very glad you changed your mind.”
She returned the smile “So am I. Ultimately, my wanting-to-be-a-nun phase was a form of teenage rebellion. All teenagers have moments when they want to escape the world and hide, and I hit upon the most extreme form of it.”
His phone buzzed. He sighed. Though he wanted nothing more than to ignore it, tonight was casino night for all the wedding guests, and Rico was in charge.
He read the message and then met Marisa’s stare. “I need to go back.”
How he enjoyed the way her shoulders slumped at this.
He covered both her slender hands. “I’m going to be busy for a few hours, but I’m free this afternoon. Shall we go back to the beach? It’s looking to be a beautiful day.”
And how he loved the longing in her eyes at this. “What about the boat trip?”
Ah, yes, the afternoon sojourn to the tiny island of Neranoon his father’s new toy of a super-yacht. “There’s going to be hundreds of people going. No one will miss us.”
