An Inheritance of Shame - By Kate Hewitt Page 0,55
done more than kiss since that unforgettable, tempestuous night at his villa. He hoped that might change today. Tonight.
‘So you haven’t even told me where we’re going,’ Lucia said, and Angelo was gratified to see her eyes clear to sapphire. ‘Not too far away, I hope.’
‘No.’ He glanced out the window and smiled. ‘We’re almost there.’
Twenty minutes later the jet touched down. As she stepped out onto the tarmac Lucia clutched her hands together, turned to Angelo with shining eyes. ‘Paris.’
‘You always said you wanted to go.’
‘I did, didn’t I?’
He drew her towards him, unable to resist kissing her again. ‘I hope it lives up to your expectations.’
‘I think it will,’ Lucia murmured as she kissed him back.
Angelo felt his insides lift, lighten. Coming here had been such a good idea. Here, away from Sicily, their childhoods, the memories and prejudices, they could be themselves…and learn to love each other all over again.
Lucia felt as if she were floating. She was finally in Paris—and with Angelo. It was her birthday and Christmas all in one, everything she’d ever wanted. Almost.
They rode a limo into the city, and Lucia kept her nose nearly pressed to the glass as she watched the monuments flash by: le Place de Concorde, l’Arc de Triomphe, the huge Louvre with its winking glass pyramids and of course the Eiffel Tower, a glorious steel pinnacle piercing the sky. She had a postcard of each one, but the reality, even from behind the tinted window of a limo, was far better.
‘I want to see it all,’ she breathed, and Angelo chuckled.
‘And you will. But first let’s check in and get something to eat.’
They checked into the Presidential Suite at the Georges Cinq Hotel, and after the bellhop had left Lucia walked around slowly, taking in the antiques, the huge marble bathtub, the private terrace. She’d cleaned such rooms, of course, working at the hotel, but she’d never stayed in one before.
She stared out at the City of Light dazzled by a noonday sun and shook her head in wonder.
‘Do you like it?’ Angelo asked, and to her own shame she heard an uncertain note of vulnerability in his voice.
‘Do I like it?’ she repeated, and turned around. ‘It’s the most amazing place I’ve ever been. It’s even better than the penthouse suite at the Corretti!’
He chuckled softly. ‘For now. I intend to make the Corretti the most luxurious hotel in all of Europe.’
‘And you’ll manage that easily, I’m sure.’ Away from Sicily, from the memories and prejudices, she felt her resistance to Angelo’s wealth melt away. He was a different man here, and she was a different woman. Finally they could be the people they wanted to be, the people they were meant to be, loving each other.
She walked towards him, reached for his hands. ‘Thank you for bringing me here, Angelo.’
She felt his tension ease, saw his countenance lighten. ‘Thank you for coming.’ He drew her towards him and she came willingly. ‘I’m glad we escaped.’
He slid his arms around her and she pressed her cheek against his chest, felt the reassuring thud of his heart. ‘It felt like a close one,’ she whispered, and his arms tightened around her.
‘I know.’
She didn’t say anything more, didn’t want to drag them both down into argument once again. They had time to work out their differences, time to change and heal. ‘Let’s go see the city,’ she said instead, and he laughed ruefully, his arms still around her.
‘I have some good ideas of what we could do right here, you know.’
Her heart seemed to turn right over, her insides tightening with longing. She had a good idea too, and if it actually came down to a choice between seeing the Eiffel Tower and making love with Angelo…well, the postcard really was a good likeness, wasn’t it? Although the thought of actually making love with Angelo—not just a moment’s grasped pleasure, a one-night stand—thrilled her and terrified her in equal parts. It would be so much more.
Still chuckling, Angelo released her. ‘Come on. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t let you see the Eiffel Tower.’
It was better than the postcard, Lucia decided as they took the lift to the top viewing level. The city lay spread before them in a living map, the sky cloudless and blue above. Angelo slipped his hand in hers as they stared out at the endless view.
‘Is it as you imagined?’
‘Better.’
‘It’s nice when things live up to your expectations,’ he said dryly.
Some strange