Marguerite Kaye - His Rags-To-Riches Contessa

‘But how? Aren’t you—Don’t the Austrians rule here?’

His mouth tightened. ‘For now. Building new ships to re-establish trading routes. That is my dream. Though for the moment, I keep it to myself.’ Luca put a finger to his mouth, making a show of peering over his shoulder. ‘There is one thing you must never forget about Venice,’ he said in a stage whisper. ‘There are spies everywhere.’

‘I hope you don’t ever plan to tread the boards. You’re a terrible actor.’

But Luca’s expression became serious. ‘I mean it. Within these walls it is safe to speak your mind, but in public you must keep your counsel. Intrigue is a way of life and Venice can be a dangerous city for the unwary.’

‘How can somewhere so beautiful be so menacing?’

‘Because Venice is a city of contrasts. Light and shadow. Beauty and decay. Stone and water.’

‘You make it sound fascinating. I look forward to exploring it.’

‘It will be my pleasure to be your guide.’

He smiled at her, and she forgot what she was about to say. Sightseeing, she reminded herself, that was what they were talking about, but her eyes were locked on his, and all she could do was stare, mesmerised. She wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by him, and he must have read her thoughts, because there was a gleam in his eyes that made her think he wanted to kiss her too.

The table was in the way, but she was on her feet now, and so was he. He had closed the gap between them. She was lifting her face to his. And then he muttered something, shook his head, stepped back, and at the same time she regained her senses and moved away.

‘In the morning, after breakfast,’ Luca said, his voice gruff, ‘we will draw up a plan of action.’

‘In the morning,’ Becky repeated, trying to regulate her breathing, ‘I will assume the role of your demure cousin Rebecca.’

He looked as relieved as she felt. She wondered if he was thinking the same as her, that it was for the best, since cousins couldn’t kiss.

‘But in the meantime, you must be tired,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ she agreed gratefully. ‘Very tired. I will bid you goodnight.’

He took her hand, bowing over it with a mocking little smile, pressing the lightest of kisses to her fingertips. ‘ Buona notte , Becky.’

‘Goodnight?’ A slight nod, and she repeated the words, enjoying the soft, sensual sound of them. ‘ Buona notte , Luca.’

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