Then she retrieved her laptop, logged on, checked emails, composed one to her lawyer, and pressed ‘Send'. With the differing time zones, he’d receive it during Sydney business hours and she’d have a response within twenty-four hours.
Surprisingly she slept well, and woke feeling refreshed. Perhaps it was because it was her day off, the knowledge James, now he’d shown his hand, would leave Milan, especially her, and life would return to normal.
A spur-of-the-moment decision to do some exploring on her own added enthusiasm to the day, and with the aid of a map she sorted out a picturesque route, ate a hasty breakfast, then she caught up her keys and took the lift down to the lobby.
It was cool … OK, cold, although the sky looked clear as she slid in behind the wheel of her car and began heading south west.
There was a yen to wander the Piazza della Vetra linking San Lorenzo to Sant’Eustorgio. She recalled her mother relaying historic events linked to the area, the beautiful churches, and she had the day, the time, and there was a sense of freedom in having no set plan, other than to return to her apartment by sunset.
Music emitted from a disc she slotted into the player, upbeat and mood-elevating, and she smiled, really smiled for the first time in a while.
There was a small trattoria where she pulled over and ordered lunch, lingered over a latte, then just as she was about to leave the insistent peal of her cell-phone caught her attention.
Alessandro appeared on caller ID, and she picked up. ‘Hi.’
She sounded happy, and he leaned back in his chair as he idly viewed the city skyscape. The terracotta roof tiles of aged buildings, the church domes, spires, and the gathering of clouds looming low.
He liked the sound of her voice, the light Australian intonation and lilt apparent. Yet she spoke Italian like a native.
‘I have tickets for tonight’s performance at the Teatro alla Scala.’ He named a time. ‘I’ll collect you.’
‘I haven’t said I’ll accept the invitation.’
‘Are you going to refuse?’
La Scala? Are you joking? ‘La Scala is very appealing.’
‘Consequently you’ll suffer my company in order to enjoy opera,’ he drawled with a hint of humour, and heard her soft laughter.
‘Yes. But it’ll be a stretch.’
‘Such a gracious acceptance, Liliana.’
‘What would you have me say?’ It was easy to tease, easy to assume a slightly breathless tone. ‘Caro mio, grazie. I can’t wait to see you?’
‘That’s an improvement.’
‘Enjoy it while you can. Ciao.’
La Scala, she mused as she paid for her meal. Dress-up time. Thanks to her shopping expeditions with Sophia, she possessed a choice of suitable gowns to wear.
She adored opera, and bit back an oath that she hadn’t thought to ask which performance was scheduled.
Did it matter? Not in the least, and as she set the car in motion she punched up the volume a fraction, and sang in tune with the vocalist as the final track played out.
The day’s light was beginning to dim as she reached her apartment, and she made straight for the shower, shampooed and dried her hair, she donned a robe, checked the time, then padded out to the kitchen to cut up some fresh fruit to eat.
Alessandro hadn’t mentioned dinner, which indicated they’d probably go on somewhere afterwards.
Sophistication worked for any occasion, and Lily tended to her make-up, using a light touch with emphasis on her eyes and a red lip gloss. The gown in brilliant red complemented her fine textured skin, and she chose to leave her hair loose in a cascade of natural waves that fell just beneath her shoulders. A heart-shaped diamond pendant and matching ear-studs, together with a slim diamond bracelet completed her jewellery, and with minutes to spare she slid her feet into black killer heels, caught up a matching evening purse, keys, a slender wallet containing sufficient euros should she need them, and collected a black coat as the in-house phone rang.
She picked up, saw Alessandro’s features, and said, ‘On my way down.’
Attired in a black evening suit, white shirt and black bow tie, he projected an enviable aura of power. Strong masculine sculpted features with faint grooves slashing his cheeks, dark almost black eyes, a sensuously shaped mouth. dynamite.
‘Bella,’ he complimented gently as he cupped her shoulders and bestowed a fleeting kiss to her cheek.
‘Thank you,’ Lily acknowledged, and felt the familiar tightening deep inside at his smile. ‘I’m flattered I won out over the numerous names you have in your little black book.’
Alessandro curved an arm around her waist. ‘Remind me some time to tell you why.’
His subtle cologne teased her senses as he ushered her to the waiting car and saw her seated before he slipped in behind the wheel.
Traffic was heavy, and it took time to park and enter the Piazza della Scala and join the evening patrons seeking what many would consider to be the ultimate opera experience.
It was impossible not to feel a sense of awe, knowing how long the venue had stood, its history, the famous composers whose works had been sung by equally famous sopranos, contraltos and baritones over time. The costumes, the background scenery. The drama, the voices as the characters’ stories were revealed to the accompaniment of glorious music.
Beautiful, enthralling, exquisite … were the descriptive words that came to mind, and she said so during a break between acts.
For the duration, she had forgotten it was Alessandro who sat at her side, for in truth she lost sight of everything except what was happening on stage.
‘You are enjoying the evening.’
It was a statement, not a query, and her eyes shone with pleasure as she met his own. ‘How could I not?’ she answered simply.
He caught hold of her hand and threaded her fingers through his own. ‘Bene …’
Lily told herself the holding hands thing was just a friendly gesture, and tried to deny it felt … nice. A hint of strength in the warmth of his clasp, a sense of protectiveness, and for a while she made no attempt to disengage her hand. Only to have his fingers tighten a little when she did.
There was a sense of disappointment when the final act reached its conclusion and the lights came on, the inevitable crush of people as they lined up at the exits, and eventually the cool evening air as they reached the piazza.
‘There is a pleasant restaurant not far from here,’ Alessandro indicated the direction. ‘Are you hungry?’
‘Yes,’ Lily said at once. ‘Ravenous.’
His husky laughter curled round her nerve-ends and tugged a little. ‘Then we shall eat.’
There was a sense of intimacy in the way his arm curved along the back of her waist, and she wanted to deny that she liked the feel of it resting there a little too much.
Even in stiletto heels, her eyes were barely level with his black bow tie, and if she were to lean in against him, her head would fit into the curve of his shoulder.
Just for an instant she was strongly tempted to move closer, except that would provide a message she wasn’t ready to deliver.
The restaurant Alessandro chose was well patronized, and the greeting he received from the maître d’ was little less than obsequious as they were led to a quiet curved booth in one corner.
‘Bottled water, Pellegrino,’ Lily indicated when Alessandro suggested wine, and she ordered