Logan’s brow creased. ‘He was from Venice, then?’
She nodded.
‘So what was he doing in Tuscany?’
She turned back to face the fresco. ‘That’s my question too. That’s why I’m hesitant. I could be wrong. Journeying between Venice and Tuscany in Renaissance times wasn’t easy, but we both know the European Renaissance started in Tuscany and centred in Florence and Siena.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Venice was the late starter.’
She walked back to the entranceway. ‘Give me some time to run the program and see what it comes up with.’
Logan held out his hand as she made to leave. ‘And in the meantime?’ He spun around. ‘Time is marching on, we’ve still got work to do in the chapel—even if we aren’t anywhere near the fresco.’
She looked around and gave a little nod. ‘Let me give you some recommendations on the best way to protect it in the meantime from dust, plaster and paint.’ Her gaze connected with his. ‘This could be a really amazing discovery, Logan.’
It was the way she’d said his name. Her accent, her lilt. He’d heard it on so many occasions. Last thing at night, first thing in the morning. In the heat of passion and in the depths of despair.
He just hadn’t admitted how much he actually missed it.
His feet were rooted to the spot. But Lucia’s weren’t. She was headed out the door. She was leaving. Who knew how long she would actually stay here. He could get up tomorrow morning and discover her gone.
‘Have dinner with me?’
‘What?’ She stopped. She looked shocked.
‘Have dinner with me,’ he repeated, stepping closer to her. The words had come out of nowhere. He couldn’t take them back. He didn’t want to take them back.
‘We have things we need to discuss.’ He saw a wave of panic flit across her eyes. ‘Business we need to discuss.’
‘Oh, of course.’ She glanced down at her digital camera. ‘My program will take a few hours to run.’ She was stalling. Of course she was. The last thing she’d want to do was have dinner with him.
‘Then you’ll have a few hours to kill,’ he said quickly. This was embarrassing. Logan Cascini wasn’t used to women saying no to him. But Lucia wasn’t just any woman. Lucia was the woman he’d once loved. Sure, it felt awkward. Sure, this wasn’t an ideal situation.
But this was the first time he’d seen her in twelve years. If this fresco turned out to be important, it could have significant repercussions for his business. He had to keep on top of this.
He almost laughed out loud. His mind was giving him all the rational, professional reasons for having dinner with Lucia. But his heart was giving him a whole host of completely irrational, emotional reasons for having dinner with Lucia.
None of them professional. All of them personal.
His mouth kept talking. ‘We can discuss any paperwork that will need to be completed. I’ll need to translate everything for Louisa, and if there’s going to be any extra expenses we’ll need to discuss those too. There’s a nice restaurant in Monte Calanetti. It will give you a chance to see the village.’
She was hesitating, looking for a reason to say no, and he wasn’t prepared to accept that.
He walked around her in long strides. ‘Leave the arrangements to me.’
‘Well, I... I...’ She was still murmuring while he left.
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