Rico took her to the best gelateria in Rome.
‘Wow. How do you expect me to choose from all these flavours?’ she asked. ‘They all look so gorgeous.’
Eventually she picked ginger and cinnamon, and they walked back through the streets, holding hands and eating gelati. She sighed with pleasure as they reached the Colosseum. ‘I love this building. It’s everything I thought it would be.’
‘Yeah.’ He couldn’t resist kissing her. And when he saw her back to her room, he couldn’t resist kissing her some more. Kissing turned to touching, and touching ended with him making love to her in the shower.
Afterwards, he tucked her into bed.
‘Thank you for today,’ she said softly. ‘It’s been really special.’
She was right. It had been special. Which set all his alarm bells ringing; this was meant to be just fun. She was vulnerable; she’d been hurt badly by her ex and had lost her closest family. And he could only be her Mr Right Now. What did he know of families, of love and protection? For both their sakes, he needed to rein back a bit.
It was just as well that tomorrow would be their last full day together. He was dangerously close to actually wanting to get involved with her. Which would be a seriously bad idea.
‘My pleasure, bellezza,’ he said lightly. ‘See you in the morning. Sweet dreams.’
THE following morning, Rico took Ella to the Vatican on the Metro. As they walked through the museum, Ella was amazed to learn that they were actually walking on original Roman mosaic floors, ones which might once have lain in an emperor’s villa; and then on marble floors that had once graced the Colosseum itself. The tapestries and sculptures were beautiful too, but what really stunned her was the Sistine Chapel.
‘I didn’t think it would be this huge,’ she said to Rico. One corner had been left dark, so you could see how much work had gone into the restoration of the chapel and cleaning the paintwork. Ella just stood and gazed at the paintings, loving the depth to the blue sky. And the famous view of God reaching out to Adam with his finger, something she’d seen on postcards and in magazines, was much more awe-inspiring in real life.
‘That was really incredible,’ she said to Rico as they left the chapel to go to St Peter’s. ‘I honestly wasn’t expecting it to be that special. Thank you so much for bringing me here.’
Outside, there were the two Swiss guards with their saffron-and-purple striped uniforms, and the guide pointed out the building that contained the Pope’s apartment and the window where he gave the blessing every Sunday.
The church itself was gorgeous, and Ella lingered by Michelangelo’s Pietà. ‘It’s amazing to think that he was only twenty-four when he carved it. Four years younger than I am now.’
‘Doing what he loved. Making the most of his gift,’ Rico said. ‘Which is what you’re about to do, too.’
‘I hope so. Though sometimes I wake up and wonder just how crazy I am, setting up a new business in the middle of a recession.’
‘You already have a customer base, and word of mouth will bring you more. And when you have transferable skills that you can use to keep your cash flow ticking over, if you really need to. No, you’re not crazy at all,’ Rico said. ‘You’re doing the right thing. And when you’re old, you can look back without regrets or wondering what would’ve happened if you’d given your dreams a chance.’
‘I guess so.’
They wandered back outside into the sunshine, and Rico showed Ella the disappearing columns.
‘That’s clever.’
‘And you’re thinking about how you can use that on a cake, aren’t you?’ he asked, smiling.
‘Something like that,’ she admitted. She looked at the obelisk in the centre of the square. ‘I take it that that’s another of the Egyptian obelisks that seem to be everywhere?’
‘Yup. Caligula brought it to Rome, and it was moved here from Nero’s circus by the order of Pope Sixtus V,’ Rico told her. ‘Apparently, it took four months to move it across Rome, and the men who moved it had to do it in silence, on pain of death.’
‘Wow. That’s a bit harsh. I assume that’s another medieval thing, like the Mouth of Truth biting off the hands of liars?’
‘Roman history’s not totally gory,’ Rico said, laughing.
‘Gladiators, Nero, Caligula … I rest my case.’ She spread her hands, laughing back.
They walked back into the city, stopping every so often to look at the gorgeous cakes in the windows of the pasticcieri. There were lilacs and orange trees everywhere, and Ella loved every second of it.
As they crossed the Tiber Ella asked, ‘Can I take you to dinner tonight?’
She wanted to take him to dinner? That was a first. Normally, Rico did the asking. And normally, Rico did the paying. The only time someone else offered to treat him, there was usually an ulterior motive—an obvious one at that. Not being able to see a motive made him feel out of his depth, to the point where he was lost for words.
‘Sorry. Of course you’re probably busy. I assumed too much,’ she said when he was silent.
‘No, I’m not busy. And, yes, I’d like to have dinner with you.’
‘And it’s my bill,’ Ella said firmly.
That was what he didn’t get. He couldn’t help asking, ‘Why?’
‘You cooked for me, that first night. Obviously I can’t return the favour because I don’t have access to a kitchen here, so the best I can offer is buying you a meal in a restaurant.’ She smiled. ‘I would say let’s go to the swishest restaurant in Rome, but I’d guess you have to make a reservation months in advance, and anyway I don’t really have anything suitable to wear.’
‘Plus it would be incredibly expensive. Michelin stars and what have you don’t come cheap,’ he warned.
She shrugged. ‘The money doesn’t matter. Remember, I won all that money, and I’m under budget here anyway. I can afford it.’
Rico hid a smile. Ella might be planning a new career as a baker, but she still talked like an accountant.
‘And anyway, it’d be a treat for me as well,’ she added, as if trying to persuade him.
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he said. ‘I have a few connections.’
She smiled. ‘Thank you.’
‘Let’s have a coffee and I’ll make some phone calls.’
He gulped his lukewarm espresso down, as usual, and made a few calls. Luckily Ella’s Italian was nowhere near good enough to follow what he was saying. There was one particular
