She shook her head. ‘I don’t need anything yet after all that breakfast, Dante. Let’s go now.’
As Dante had forecast, at the Academy of Fine Arts they had quite a wait among throngs of tourists with cameras and students with backpacks, but when they finally gained entrance to the star attraction Rose stood motionless in pure wonder at the sight of the monumental white figure gazing sternly far above their heads, the sling he would use to kill Goliath at the ready over one shoulder.
‘You are impressed?’ murmured Dante in her ear.
‘How could I not be?’ With reluctance, she dragged her eyes from the statue. ‘Thank you so much for bringing me here.’
‘It is my pleasure as much as yours, Rose. But now, if you have looked at David long enough, we shall go in search of food. Shall we go back to Caffe Rivoire, or would you like to try a different place?’
‘The Rivoire again, but just coffee and a snack, please.’
‘You shall have whatever your heart desires.’
CHAPTER TWO
TO DANTE’S AMUSEMENT Rose took surreptitious glances at her phone from time to time when they were seated among the greenery at a table close to the building, a little away from the press of crowds and pigeons in the Piazza.
‘You are expecting a call from your lover?’ he demanded at last.
‘Sorry. Just checking for any client problems,’ she lied. No way was she telling him she was checking on her child—who just happened to be his daughter. She thrust the phone in her bag, feeling suddenly cold. Would Dante try to lay claim to Bea if he found out about her? No way was she sharing her child with him. Bea was hers and hers alone.
‘You look tense. Forget the work for today,’ commanded Dante. ‘Let us enjoy this unexpected gift of time together. First you must rest for a while in your room and then later we shall go wherever you wish.’
Rose forced a smile and insisted that she couldn’t waste precious time in resting, but after some of the café’s famous hot chocolate conceded that Dante’s idea was a good one after all.
‘Bene,’ he said as they walked back to the hotel. ‘Those beautiful eyes look heavy. We shall meet in the foyer at three, yes?’
She frowned. ‘Look, Dante, I’m taking up a lot of your time. If you have other things to do—’
‘What could be more important than spending time with you, Rose?’
‘If you’re sure—’ A yawn overtook her mid-sentence, and Dante laughed.
‘You see? A rest is good, yes?’
Rose nodded, embarrassed to feel glad of the rococo gilded cage instead of trudging up the stairs. ‘If I stayed in Florence for any length of time I’d get very lazy.’
Dante smiled indulgently. ‘It is good to be lazy sometimes, Rose. I shall see you at three—unless you would like to sleep longer than that?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ll be ready on the dot.’
Rose rang her mother for a brief update and learned that Tom had collected Bea from nursery school, and afterwards the three of them had gone for a walk in the park to feed the ducks and buy ice cream.
‘Did she cry for me in the night, Mum?’
‘No, darling. She told me I wasn’t quite as good at reading stories as Mummy, but otherwise settled down fairly well, and went off happy to school this morning. So do stop worrying. Enjoy yourself.’
Reassured, Rose had a brief rest on the bed, showered herself awake afterwards and changed the white tee for a navy polo shirt. When she saw Dante waiting for her in the foyer downstairs her unruly heart gave a thump as his eyes lit up at the sight of her. He was too good-looking by half, she thought resentfully as he took her hand.
‘You slept, Rose?’
‘I had a shower instead.’
‘So did I.’
Since he was wearing a fresh shirt, his black curls were damp and he smelt delicious, Rose had already gathered that.
‘Where now?’ she asked as they left the hotel.
‘To look at shops, naturalmente!’
Their first stop was on the Ponte Vecchio to look at the jewellery on display, but with her eyes popping at the prices Rose soon abandoned the jewellers for a shop selling silk ties.
‘You want a gift for the boyfriend?’ asked Dante.
Tempted to lie and say yes, she shook her head. ‘For Tom, Charlotte’s father.’ She pointed to one in cream-dotted bronze silk. ‘What do you think?’
‘A good choice. What will you buy your mother?’
‘I think I’ll go for one of these silk scarves. Which do you fancy?’
Dante pointed to one in colours similar to the tie. ‘That one, yes?’
Rose was very pleased with her purchases, sure she would have paid a lot more without Dante’s help. Later, window-gazing at designer clothes in the Via da Tornabuoni, they spent fantastic pretend fortunes on a wardrobe for her before Dante took her to the Piazza della Repubblica to browse through La Rinascente, a department store where Rose could have spent hours.
‘Next time stay longer and linger here as long as you wish. Also explore the Palazzo Pitti and the Tivoli Gardens,’ Dante told her. ‘But now, if you are not too tired, let us walk to Santa Croce to visit the Bar Vivoli Gelateria. The best ice cream in the world is made there.’
‘An offer I can’t resist!’ She laughed up at him and saw his eyes light up. ‘What?’
‘At last you laugh! For a moment I saw the younger Rose again.’
The smile faded. ‘A fleeting illusion, Dante.’
Their progress was slow on the way to the Vivoli due to the lure of the small shops in the Santa Croce area. In one of them Rose spotted attractive plaques in papier mâché painted with vegetables and bought a pair for her mother and Tom. ‘They both love gardening, and these will be light enough to stow in my suitcase.’
He smiled. ‘You have done much shopping for others, but nothing for yourself.’
‘I don’t need anything,’ she assured him. She felt guilty enough about spending Fabio’s money as it was. ‘I’ll settle for this ice cream you promised.’
At the Bar Vivoli Rose rolled her eyes in ecstasy when she tasted her strawberry ice cream. ‘It’s gorgeous—aren’t you having any, Dante?’
He shook his head, smiling indulgently. ‘I will protect the shopping from your gelato while you enjoy. Is there more you wish to buy? Or we could explore the great church of Santa Croce here.’
‘I’d like to very much, but I’d better leave that for another time.’ Not that there would be another time. She looked up at the magnificent facade with regret. ‘Shall we go back now?’
‘Whatever you wish, Rose. Where would you like to dine tonight?’
So he meant them to dine together again. Irritated by her pleasure at the prospect, she told him that at that moment, her palate still rocking with strawberry gelato, it was difficult to think of food. ‘Maybe we could eat in the hotel again?’ At least that way the cost of dinner would appear on her hotel bill and she would feel less obligated.
Dante frowned. ‘If you really wish to. But there are many restaurants in Firenze. One of my favourites is right here in Santa Croce. We could take a taxi if you