Gina hurried across the Campo Santa Margherita, a beautiful, lively square not far from her home in the Dorsoduro region of the city. It was chilly, and the evening sky threatened rain, but Gina practically danced across the flagstones in her high-heeled boots, giddy at the prospect of a date with Marco.
The afternoon in Murano had been wonderful, hanging out with Brad and Issy, but especially with Marco and Daniela. Her thoughts had been divided – she felt terrible for the two of them when she found out about Stephana and the tragic accident that had claimed her life. Yet she couldn’t suppress a flicker of excitement and possibility. She’d tried very hard to deny her feelings, as she hadn’t wanted to get involved with a married man. But Marco had made it clear that he was interested in her, and now she knew that he was a widow without any other romantic commitments, there was nothing to stop her accepting Marco’s invitation.
Gina’s heart leapt as she spotted him – he was early, and she was grateful for that – standing right where they’d agreed to meet, by the flagpole at the western end of the square. The fruit stalls and flower sellers had packed up for the day, but the piazza was bustling as it always was during Carnevale. Here there were more locals than tourists in the busy bohemian quarter that was popular with students from the nearby university, but Marco cut a distinctive figure with his tall, broad frame and handsome face, the collar of his woollen jacket turned up against the cold in a way that framed his chiselled jawline.
‘Gina,’ he grinned when he saw her, and the look on his face said it all – his eyes soft, his smile wide – and Gina felt her stomach flip. She’d spent so long being on her own, fighting to always stay in control, that the prospect of letting her guard down and sharing some of that burden felt dangerously inviting. She wanted to be open and relaxed with him, not cold or aloof. She wanted this to work. She grinned back, realizing that they were gazing at each other with the same tender expression.
‘So where are we going?’ Gina asked. Marco hadn’t revealed their destination, telling her it was a surprise.
‘It’s not too far away,’ Marco replied mysteriously, offering his hand. Gina took it, enjoying the feel of his fingers wrapped around hers, his touch strong and confident.
He led her along one of the narrow passageways, out of the square and over the Ponte del Forno, where they strolled alongside the canal. Here the waterway was narrow, the picturesque buildings lining either side of the Rio de Santa Margherita.
Marco turned to her, his eyes twinkling. ‘I’m flattered you found time to take an evening off.’
‘I nearly didn’t make it. I’m arranging a wedding.’ Gina told him about Olivia and Max, and the intricate plans that she had planned down to the finest detail. ‘I’m so fond of Olivia, I want this to be a day she will never forget.’
‘It sounds like it will be.’
‘But there is something missing.’
‘What do you mean?’ He was curious.
Gina tried to explain what she meant. ‘Did you ever dream about getting married, Marco?’
He thought about that for a moment. ‘Honestly, no!’ He laughed, ‘I wanted to get married, of course, but it was just a formality. My wife, Stephana, planned everything down to the last detail; she even had her own unique perfume created just for the day.’
‘She sounds amazing,’ Gina said, ‘so you see what I mean: that was the one thing she brought to the day that no one else could.’ Gina looked distant for a moment. ‘When I was a little girl, we didn’t have much, and I always remember seeing someone’s big wedding in the local church. They had two enormous horses pulling a white carriage, the bride was wearing a Cinderella gown, and her train was embroidered with silver thread, which matched her silver shoes. It seemed magical to me, like the most wonderful thing that could happen to someone. I wished it was me there.’
‘You’ve never married?’
She shook her head. ‘But the best part of it was the thing that no one expected to happen.’ She smiled, lost in the memory.
‘Are you going to share it with the rest of us, Gina?’ Marco smiled and gently squeezed her hand. ‘Hello?’
Gina laughed, too. ‘I’ll truly never forget it. The groom unshackled one of the horses from the carriage, mounted it, then went and drew his new wife up from the square onto the horse. They sat together, laughing and embracing, and then they literally rode off into the sunset, while everyone just stared after them. I’ll never forget the look on the bride’s face as he lifted her up onto the horse. Her expression said, “Let’s do this”, and she just kicked off those silver shoes. It was so exciting. And romantic.’
‘Are you a romantic, Gina?’
‘I think I must be. I’m not a wedding planner, but I get to recreate that magical moment in hundreds of different ways for our guests. I want to see that look on Olivia’s face. I just need that magical final touch.’
‘I hope you find your inspiration.’ Marco came to a stop outside a nondescript doorway, nestled amidst a row of bars and cafés. He turned to Gina and asked, ‘Hey, do you like jazz?’
‘A little,’ she admitted truthfully.
‘You’ll like it a lot more after tonight. Trust me,’ Marco winked, making Gina laugh as she followed him through the doorway.
Inside it was dimly lit and smoky, the strains of music coming from over the speakers. Gina pushed through a thick red velvet curtain and found herself in a stone-walled room, set up cabaret-style with round tables and Chiavari chairs facing a small stage at the far end. Instruments were set up, promising live music later in the evening – a drum kit and a piano, guitars and a double bass. The place was beginning to fill up with couples and groups of students, and already the atmosphere was lively and fun.
At the bar, Marco ordered a bottle of red wine with two glasses, and they sat down at the table that was reserved with his name.
‘I thought this would be better than some fancy restaurant,’ he told her. ‘Here we can just relax and have some fun.’
‘It’s perfect,’ Gina smiled, and she meant it. She was touched by how much thought he’d put into the evening. He was right – it was much better than somewhere showy and pretentious.
‘You look amazing, by the way,’ Marco said, as she slipped off her jacket. She was wearing knee-high boots paired with a black miniskirt that showed off her long, shapely legs, and a sheer black top – a perfect date-night outfit.
‘Thanks. So do you,’ Gina replied, unable to stop her gaze from running over his muscular body in the close-fitted shirt he was wearing. She took a sip of her wine – it was rich and fruity and it helped to settle her first-date jitters. She’d felt like throwing caution to the wind tonight, letting her guard down and having fun for once, but it was hard to let go of old habits. She was so used to being disciplined and in control.
‘Do you ever get scared?’ she asked Marco. ‘I mean, in your line of work?’
‘Sure. But you can’t let fear get the better of you.’ He looked at her intently, as though he understood what she was asking. ‘You have to let it work for you, and use the nerves and adrenaline to your advantage. But I have to admit, I’m a little apprehensive about this one.’
‘You are?’ Gina was surprised.
‘This stunt’s a tricky one, and there’s a lot that could go wrong. There’s the pressure of it taking place above one of the most famous landmarks in the world – one slip, and I could destroy Piazza San Marco … and myself. When you’re younger, you don’t care – you throw yourself headfirst into everything. Now I’m more cautious, more aware of the risks. And I worry for Daniela’s sake, too. She’s already lost one parent – she can’t lose another.’
‘I’m so sorry about Stephana. It must have been horrible for you both.’
‘It was,’ Marcio agreed, taking a long swallow of his wine. ‘There’s a time when you think you’ll never be happy again. But slowly, one day at a time, things start to get better. And Daniela helped get me through it – kids are incredibly resilient, and you can’t sit around feeling sorry for yourself when you have responsibilities.’
‘You’ve done a fantastic job. She’s such a sweetheart.’
Marco smiled. ‘She likes you too. She was over the moon when she knew we were going out tonight.’
Gina felt a rush of pleasure. She couldn’t help but feel positive about the evening. It was early days still, but she really liked Marco and wanted something to happen between them. Perhaps she had finally met a nice guy she could depend on and put her troubled past behind her.
She was about to say something more when the band stepped onto the stage, the crowd cheering and clapping as they picked up their instruments and launched into the first song. It was an upbeat, lively number, and the atmosphere was festive. Marco put his arm around her shoulder, and Gina settled against him, enjoying the feeling of his body against hers – something so ordinary but so thrilling. He felt strong and protective, and she caught the trace of his aftershave, musky and masculine. Desire rose within her, an insistent ache pulsing through her body in time with the music.
After a few songs, people rose to their feet and began to dance in the space in front of the stage. Gina’s inhibitions were lowered after a couple of glasses of wine, so when Marco stood up and said, ‘Come on, let’s dance,’ she agreed without hesitation.
He took her hand and led her to the dance floor, the two of them quickly finding a spot amongst the other couples. Marco took her in his arms, the two of them moving to the music, and all Gina could think about was how good it felt to be held by him. It was as though there were only the two of them in the room, and Gina instinctively pressed her body closer to Marco’s. She couldn’t help it; they were like magnets inevitably drawn together.
She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands encircled her waist, electricity shooting through her at his touch, setting off a wave of delicious sparks that lit up her whole body. Gina had never wanted someone so much as she wanted Marco right now. After everything that had happened, she’d locked that side of herself away, scared of opening up to someone and showing her vulnerabilities. But with Marco, everything seemed so natural, and she was sure he felt the same. There was no playing games – they liked each other, and wanted each other. It was as simple as that.
Marco’s fingertips traced her spine, moving up to the nape of her neck, running his fingers through her hair. He tilted her head up to face him, his eyes liquid and filled with an unmistakeable longing that Gina knew was reflected in her own. She desperately wanted him to kiss her, right there in the dark, smoky jazz club, with the insistent rhythm of the music pulsing in time with their heartbeats.
Then the next moment his lips were on hers, soft and warm and delicious, and Gina was kissing him back, melting into his arms, wanting the moment to last for ever. Every inch of her body was on fire, thrumming with energy and passion, and she knew without a doubt that she was falling hard for Marco.
But could she really give herself to him when her past was a closed book? And would she ever be able to stop running from it?
Chapter 27
Lucia was lounging in her king-size bed beneath luxury Egyptian cotton sheets, having a well-deserved rest after another flawless performance at La Fenice the previous evening, when there was a knock on the door of her suite.
‘Come in,’ she called. She stretched luxuriously, looking forward to the attractive sight of Massimo bringing her hot water with lemon and the morning papers. A few moments passed, then the knock came again.
‘Yes, enter,’ Lucia called out, more irritably now. What was wrong with Massimo? Why didn’t he just come in?
