Page 29 of The Italian's Marriage Bargain

‘Stop sulking, Luca. Look, you really ought to eat lunch with these people; you know that as well as I do. Turning down that sort of clientele is hardly a wise move. And you would be turning them down,’ she said quickly as he opened his mouth to argue. ‘A quick morning coffee isn’t really the way to do business.’

‘I guess,’ he muttered. ‘But come with us at least. I can’t just leave you on your own on your first day in Rome.’

‘Why not? I’m not a baby, Luca; I can brave the streets without an escort. Anyway, after this morning’s episode a heavy long lunch really isn’t at the top of my agenda—and it isn’t my first day in Rome. I was here with Joseph, remember?’

‘Okay,’ he said resignedly. ‘But if you need anything, if you run into any problems and I am not here, you ring the hotel and ask to speak with Rafaello.’

‘Rafaello? Is that your personal assistant?’

‘No, he is far more useful than that. Rafaello is the chief concierge. There is nothing he cannot organise.’

‘I’ll bear it in mind.’

‘So when will I see you?’ Luca grumbled. ‘When can you squeeze me in?’

‘Tonight,’ Felicity said brightly, refusing to be drawn by his sulking. ‘I’ll arrange dinner; just meet me back here around six.’ And, kissing him briefly on the cheek, she headed out of the door.

Wincing slightly as she worked out the exchange rate, for a while Felicity wished she had taken Luca up on his offer and pocketed his little gold credit card.

‘No, you don’t,’ she said firmly, forging her way slowly through the crowded streets, gaping in open-mouthed admiration at the ravishing women and well-groomed men, their beautiful coats trailing massive bright scarves, immaculate shoes clicking along as they shouted in their exuberant language, blowing white clouds of air as they sipped their hot coffee or chatted noisily into their mobiles.

Rome was everything she remembered and more. Somehow shopping and art melted into one. Every turn of a corner heralded a building steeped in history, hundreds of churches, each one deserving so much more than the awe-inspired glances she gave as she teetered past, her high heels no match for the cobbled streets.

Luca, as insensitive as he might have been in his delivery, certainly had a point. Her suit, appropriate as it might be for Australia, was no match for the icy weather here. The cold literally bit into her, and she could hear her teeth chattering involuntarily as she walked along. Bypassing elegant shops with only one or two garments tastefully displayed and not a hint of a pricetag in sight, she settled for some of the rather less imposing boutiques. They might not have been Luca’s idea of heaven, but for Felicity it was like stepping into paradise. It was so easy to waste the day, wandering from shop to shop, and after an age of running her hand over fine wools and beautifully cut suits she finally threw caution to the wind and took her rather less impressive navy blue credit card out of its mothballs and gave it a long-overdue workout. After all, she would be needing the clothes soon, she consoled herself. Once she had her MBA it would be Felicity taking clients out for lunch.

If she got down and did some work for the blessed thing.

Paying for her purchases, weighed down with endless bags, she pushed her pang of guilt aside. It had been ages since she’d spent a cent on clothes, ages since she’d treated herself. Anyway, she didn’t have to worry about money now her parents were taken care of.

Or would be if Luca ever spoke to his lawyer.

Catching sight of a row of ties, she ran her hands over them. The silk was so heavy the ties barely moved, but one in particular caught her eye, standing out amongst the heavy checks and bold stripes, the deep sapphire-blue an almost perfect match for Luca’s eyes. Its simplicity was its beauty, and on impulse she bought it, berating herself for not looking at the pricetag as the assistant boxed it, then further wrapped it in endless wads of tissue paper before placing it in small silver bag, using practically half a forest for one simple garment. For that much paper it had to be expensive.

It was.

The slightly startled look of the hotel staff as she staggered through Reception brought a rueful smile to her lips; no doubt they expected the wife of the great Signor Santanno to arrive with an entourage of assistants weighed down with the fruits of her labours.

‘Signor Santanno should be back shortly,’ Rafaello greeted her warmly. ‘In the meantime he has asked that I ensure you are taken care of. Would you like me to send the head chef up to you,signora? He can take you through the menu personally; Signor Santanno mentioned you have been finding the food rather rich.’

‘That won’t be necessary, Rafaello,’ Felicity said assuredly. ‘I’ve got everything I need right here.’

Even the eternally impassive mask of the concierge slipped momentarily as he relieved Felicity of a bag while simultaneously clicking his fingers to summon assistance. Undoubtedly the aroma of fresh-baked bread and the chinking of bottles were out of place anywhere other than in the impressive dining room here, but Rafaello recovered quickly.

‘Is there anything I can get you,signora? Anything at all?’

‘A picnic blanket?’ Felicity asked, watching his reaction closely, but this time Rafaello never turned a hair.

‘Certainly,signora. I will have it sent to your room immediately.’

As good as his word, a picnic blanket arrived before she had even peeled off her shoes. Shooing out the staff, insisting she was more than capable of putting away her own purchases, she set about preparing the room, laying out the blanket, buttering the bread into thick mounds, arranging the cheeses and dried fruits temptingly, and smiling to herself at Rafaello’s foresight when two chambermaids discreetly knocked, buckling under the weight of a massive silver ice bucket and huge candelabra.

Rafaello was obviously a romantic!

‘What’s all this?’ Blinking in the semi-darkness, Luca eyed the room slowly before turning his rather bemused face to Felicity.

‘Dinner in Italy,’ she said softly. ‘Conlon-style.’ Taking the lead, she sat on the rug, and after a moment’s hesitation Luca pulled off his jacket and shoes and joined her. He was uncomfortable and awkward at first, but finally—along with his tie—he loosened up, accepting the cheap red wine Felicity handed him as she sipped on some sparkling mineral water.

‘Tastes like mouthwash.’ He grimaced. ‘Where on earth did you get it?’

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