Her Roman Holiday (15 page)

“Sounds delightful.”
 
She couldn’t quite keep the dryness from her tone.
 
“So you think I should stay, then.”

“You want to stay.
 
Just as I want you to stay.
 
So why is this a question?”

Because she could already feel herself transgressing her elaborate boundaries, even as he remained, totally disengaged.
 
Not in the least concerned that there might be anything more at stake between them than a short-term physical encounter.
 

But he was right.
 
She did want to stay.
 
She had never experienced anything like this before.
 
Just thinking about him made her ache for more of the inflammatory intimacy only he could provide.
 
Someday, she might manage to find another lover like him.
 
But it wouldn’t be soon
—
of that she was certain.
 
So, why not enjoy it while she could?
 

She nodded slowly, watching him with guarded eyes.
 
“I’ll give it until the end of my vacation.
 
I only ask that we both agree to be honest with each other
—
so that if things do end up fizzling before the end of my stay, I can move on.
 
No harm done.”

“And if they do not?
 
If we still want more from each other?”

“It could get messy, Gio.
 
I might get the job in Frankfurt…” She trailed off, considering, then shook her head.
 
“But even if I did, I’d want to be concentrating on learning the ropes.”

“Of course.
 
Business first.”
 
She thought she detected a subtle thread of sarcasm in his voice.

She shrugged.
 
“I just I think it would be better if we didn’t draw it out into a long-distance thing.
 
Those are always so tedious
—
a weekend here, an afternoon there.”

He watched her in silence for several moments, his eyes hooded and his expression blank.
 
Then, he nodded.
 
“For once, we are agreed.
 
We will finish at the end of your holiday.
 
That will give us all the more reason to make the most of the time we have.”

“And if either of us loses interest, then we’ll part ways,” she repeated.
 
“No harm, no foul.”

“No harm, no foul,” he agreed.
 
Then, he glanced at his watch.
 
“And though I would like to suggest consummating our agreement in the most appropriate way possible…”

“… you have a meeting to attend.
 
I know.”
 
She smiled coolly.
 
When she continued, it was her turn to try to keep the sarcasm out of her voice as she echoed his words, “Business first.
 
Though, I suppose what we just agreed to is also just business in its way, isn’t it?”

“You would insist upon thinking of it in those terms, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, don’t you?
 
Why do I have the feeling that as far as you’re concerned, we’ve just finished negotiating a deal
—
and that it will probably be one of the easiest deals you’ll close this week?”

His eyes were glittering chips of ice as he looked at her.
 
“Probably because it is not far from the truth.
 
But I have always been a believer in keeping things simple.
 
If both parties are amenable to the proposed terms, why throw in complications?”

“True enough, I suppose.”
 
He’d never know what it cost her to conceal how much this conversation rankled.

The smile he gave her was chilling in its lack of emotion.
 
“I must concede that one advantage of being involved with someone of your background is that as a businesswoman, you understand how these affairs work and you do not feel the need to dress them up with fancy words.
 
It caught me off guard at first, but it is also refreshing in its way.”

She inclined her head, feeling the tang of bitterness at the back of her throat.
 
What had she let herself in for?
 
“We aim to please.”

“And you succeed,
carissima
.
 
I have absolutely no complaints on that score.”

They departed for the city not long afterwards.
 
Calia managed to minimize her reaction to him by playing up her internal sense of grievance, while staring fixedly out her side window.
 
At least that way, she was able to ignore the potent masculinity of his presence.
 
Mostly.

Though of course, the fact that she was so far from indifferent to him was more fuel to the fire of her irritation.
 
Despite all her high-minded notions about not allowing him to approach their involvement like a business deal, she had done just that
—
had, in fact, introduced the idea herself.
 
She shook her head disgustedly, frowning out of the window.

But perhaps she was looking it all wrong.
 
The situation was only problematic if she allowed it to be.
 
Maybe it was for the best that they had laid it out in a business context.
 
At least this way, she could start thinking of their association in such terms
—
and could begin moving away from that dangerous territory she had been so fearful about, earlier.
 

She went with Gio to his office, where he introduced her to his assistant, Daria.
 
Calia recognized the husky, accented voice from their brief conversation the day before, but instead of a Sophia Loren lookalike, his secretary was a friendly, plain-faced older woman with a smile that lent her a fleeting radiance.

Calia left his office with the determination to put all thoughts of Gio from her mind.
 
She spent the morning visiting the catacombs, a fascinating series of labyrinthine tunnels on the outskirts of Rome where the early Christians used to meet in order to avoid persecution.
 
Since it was still early, she was able to sign up for one of the first English tours of the day.
 
She had completed that, and her walk about the grounds, well before it was time to return to Gio’s office.
 
And though the tour had engaged her, during her solitary moments, her thoughts never strayed far from Gio.

After taking a bus back into town, Calia toyed briefly with the idea of checking out a few other sights on her way back to Gio’s office, but she soon dismissed the notion.
 
She wouldn’t be much good for further sightseeing
—
her thoughts and emotions were in far too much turmoil for that.

Instead, she settled herself at a little café along a quiet street, where she passed the time alternately mooning about Gio and fretting about what appeared to be a growing obsession with the man.
 
The magnificence of his lovemaking.
 
The breathtakingly masculine beauty of his physique.
 
Even the underlying likeability of his personality.
 
For it was rapidly becoming evident that part of the problem
—
and the danger of her association with him
—
stemmed from the fact that she actually liked him.
 
He was a good person, even if she couldn’t see her way around their fundamental incompatibilities.

He was comfortable with his views on women, relationships and marriage and clearly saw no reason to change them.
 
Given that she felt exactly the same way about her own perspectives
—
she could never imagine relinquishing her independence or being in a relationship that was lacking in mutal respect, as well as mutual affection
—
there seemed no path to anything more serious between them.
 

But the thing that truly angered her was that she could even be thinking along these lines.

They were temporary.
 
She was supposed to be reveling in the lack of commitment outlined by their agreement.
 
It was the very embodiment of the sophisticated, wordly lifestyle some part of her had been hoping to embrace when she had broken up with Dave and decided to pursue her longtime dream of living in Europe.

She had applied for the job in the Frankfurt firm mainly to get the ball rolling.
 
She had figured she probably wouldn’t hear from them again, but that taking the action would get her thinking along those lines.
 
She had been looking into the question of work visas and the other practicalities when she had heard back from Vorsichter Hessen.

After two phone interviews and one videoconference, they had narrowed their range of applicants to two finalists, whom they flew into their office for in-person meetings.
 
It was at that point that Calia figured she might as well tack a holiday onto the end of such an opportunity.
 
It would give her a chance to reconnoitre and see which places intrigued her the most, so that even if she didn’t get the job, she’d be able to make an informed decision about which city she would most like to use as her base.

She sipped her cappuccino thoughtfully.
 
The plan still seemed sound, in theory.
 
She had discovered that both Frankfurt and Paris had their advantages, making her decision more difficult than she had originally hoped.
 

But she now knew that the biggest complication of all had nothing to do with deciding between the two cities, and everything to do with the sense of deflation she experienced every time she thought about the end of her Roman holiday.

As Calia finished the last of her cappuccino, she reminded herself that she and Gio had a business arrangement.
 
Business could sometimes be emotional, too, when the stakes got high.
 

If you happened to like the people you were doing business with, all the better.
 
It made working with them easier.
 
Similarly, when a positive business partnership ended and it was time to move on, the parting could be amicable and tinged with regret.
 
There was no crime in that.

She stood and checked the time, before frowning at her watch.
 
Might the battery be dying?
 
But no
—
the second hand was ticking away with its usual briskness.
 
So how could that coffee only have taken twenty minutes?

She shook her head, irritated once again
—
this time at the fact that time could actually be dragging for her while she was in Rome, of all places.
 
What she needed was some brisk activity.
 
She would walk back to Gio’s office
—
it would take some time, but she figured she needed the exercise.
 
And this area of the city was picturesque enough, with its blending of old world style and modern metropolis, that it promised to be a form of sightseeing in itself.

* * *

She arrived at the office with fifteen minutes to spare.
 
The walk had done her good, getting her legs moving and pulling her away from the heavy, static thoughts that had been plaguing her.
 
Between her strong sense of direction, her good memory for landmarks and the map she kept handy, she had no difficulty finding her way
—
and even took a few detours to significant landmarks along the route.
 

But, as she entered the head office of the Diamanti Group and walked through the austerely elegant front foyer, with its smooth marble surfaces and discreet fountains, she found her mood shifting once again, her chest constricting with a jumpy agitation.
 

She would be seeing him again in a few minutes, and her body was already winding up in anticipation.
 
As she rode up the elevator, she composed herself, so that when the doors slid silently open on the executive floor, she felt outwardly calm and ready to present a businesslike façade.

The executive receptionist, who had seen her coming through earlier in the day, nodded and waved her through to Gio’s private suite of offices, where Calia was greeted by Daria’s welcoming smile.

The other woman was on the phone, so Calia took a seat and settled in to wait.
 
She had hardly picked up one of the annual reports on display when the sound of approaching voices had her glancing up.

She soon realized that, in contrast to all the other incidental conversations she had overheard since her arrival in Italy, she could actually understand what was being said.
 
The two men were speaking French.
 
The voices continued to approach, emerging into full clarity as their owners came to a stop not far from where Calia was sitting.

“…I told you, they’re not going to release the report.
 
They say it would be premature
—
that the studies are not sufficiently conclusive.”

Calia glanced around the waiting area, trying to pinpoint the origin of the voices.
 
She wondered if she ought to say something to alert them to her presence.
 
But some impulse kept her silent.
 
She soon realized that she was overhearing a conversation between the two men she had met at the reception, with Gio
—
what were their names?
 
Marron, and Sorvignac.

“Deal with it, Marron.
 
Send them an offer on behalf of the Foundation to extend their funding, so long as they release the preliminary findings by Friday.
 
Be generous.
 
Say they can release the full report later, when it is conclusive.
 
I would like to do this with their consent, but if they continue to refuse, we will arrange to have the findings leaked.”