Lucy Gordon - The Secret That Changed Everything

But she changed her mind when she saw the building, which was certainly a palace, rearing up three floors, with an air of magnificence that suggested nobility rather than business.

As she approached a middle-aged woman came out and stood waiting on the step.

‘Good morning,’ she said as Charlotte got out of the car. ‘I’m Elizabetta, the housekeeper. Can I help you?’

‘I’m here to see Signor Constello.’

‘I’m afraid he’s not here,’ Elizabetta said.

Charlotte gave a sharp breath. He’d vanished. She’d pursued him for nothing. Suddenly she was in the desert again.

But then Elizabetta added, ‘Not just now anyway. He’s gone out inspecting the vines on the far side of the estate.’

‘But he is… coming back?’

‘Well, it’s a big estate. He won’t be home until very late, and sometimes he stays the night with one of his workers who lives on the far side.’

‘I need to see him today. Can you tell me where he’ll be?’

A few minutes later she headed off in what she hoped was the right direction. The sheer size of the grape fields was stunning—acre after acre, filled with long straight lines that seemed to stretch into infinity. She wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that she’d arrived on a strange planet, and Lucio wasn’t here at all.

‘Stop being fanciful,’ she told herself sternly. ‘There he is in the distance. Everything’s going to be all right.’

Instead nothing was all right. His response had been so bleak that she’d fled after a few minutes, and was now back in Florence, pacing the floor of her hotel room.

The paper she’d left him had contained both the hotel details and the number of her cell phone. He would call her soon, and they would settle it. But as time passed with no call, she faced the fact that she was alone again.

Another desert.

As the light faded she sat at the window, looking out at the old city. Her room overlooked the beautiful river Arno, with a clear view of the Ponte Vecchio, ‘the old bridge,’ which had stood there for over a thousand years. It was lined with shops on both sides, at one time a common Italian habit. But that convention had faded, and now the Ponte Vecchio was almost unique in still having them. They were lit up, dazzling and golden against the night air, flooding the water with light.

On impulse she determined to go down and explore the bridge. She would take her cell phone. Lucio could call that number if he wanted to contact her. But if he didn’t, he needn’t think she was going to languish here waiting for him to deign to give her his attention.

In a moment she was downstairs and out of the door, heading for the street that ran along the river. Despite the lateness of the hour she was far from alone. Couples strolled slowly, absorbed in each other or leaning over the wall to gaze at the water before turning to meet each other’s eyes.

At last she reached the bridge and walked halfway across to where there was a gap in the shops and she could look out over the dazzling water. On either side of her couples murmured, pleading, suggesting, happy.

Happy, she thought. Was it really possible to be happy in love?

And what was love anyway?

Briefly she’d thought she’d discovered the answer with Don, but she knew differently now. Not just because he’d let her down, but because in one devastating night with Lucio she’d discovered something that had reduced all other experiences to nothing.

Gazing down into the shimmering water, she seemed to be back in the hotel room, hearing the sound of the door close, feeling him move close. How warm his breath had been on her face, how gladly she had drawn closer to him, raising her head to receive his kiss.

She could still feel his mouth on hers, silencing the last of her doubts. Until then the voice of reason had whispered that she mustn’t do this with a man she’d only just met. It wasn’t proper behaviour. But the gentle, skilful movements of his lips had conquered her. Propriety had never meant much to her. In his arms it meant nothing at all.

It was obvious that he was a ladies’ man, but he’d undressed her with an air of reverent discovery that made her feel special. Of course this was merely part of his expertise, she’d guessed, but it was hard to be realistic when his eyes on her were full of astonished worship.

He’d removed her dress, but before stripping her completely he’d tossed aside his jacket and shirt. There were no lights on in the room but enough came through the window to reveal his smooth, well-shaped chest and arms. Lying beside her on the bed, he’d drawn away her slip and bra, leaving only her briefs.

Then he’d smiled.

Something in that smile had made her reach for him and begin pulling at his clothes until he wore no more than she did. Now she, too, was smiling. This man was going to prove a skilful lover. Every instinct she had told her that was true.

His body was marvellous, muscular but lean and taut, hinting at strength that could bring a woman joy. Almost tentatively she slipped her fingers beneath the edge of his briefs.

Incredibly there was a question in his eyes, almost as though he was asking her even now if she had any doubts. Her reply was to tighten her grip, silently ordering him to strip naked. He obeyed and did the same for her, then stayed looking down at her, letting his fingertips drift across her breasts.

His caress was so light that he could barely be said to be touching her at all, yet the thunderous pleasure that went through her was like a storm. How could so much result from so little? she wondered frantically. Then all thought was forgotten in the delight that possessed her.

No man touched a woman so subtly without first understanding her, not just her body but traces of her heart and mind. Instinct from deep inside told her so, and everything in her responded to him. She couldn’t have prevented that response even if she’d wanted to, but she didn’t want to. Nothing was further from her desire than to resist him. In that magical moment she was all his, and all she wanted was to make him all hers.

Afterwards, he kissed her tenderly, stroking her hair as sleep began to claim her, and she felt herself drifting away into the sweet, warm darkness.

At the very last moment he whispered, ‘You’re wonderful.’

The night descended totally before she could respond, but that soft tribute lingered with her in the mysterious other universe where there was rest, peace and joy.

But when she awoke, he was gone.

The memory of the murmured words tormented her. Had she imagined them, or had he really said such a thing before abandoning her? Again and again she went over the moment, racking her brain to know whether it was true memory or only fantasy born of wishful thinking. The search nearly drove her crazy, but she found no answer.

In the weeks that followed she’d known that she could have loved him if he’d given any sign of wanting her love. Instead he’d rejected her so brutally that she’d come close to hating him.

It was cruelly ironic that her two encounters with Lucio had both been under circumstances that suggested romance. First the Trevi Fountain where lovers laughingly gambled on their love, and where she’d been tempted to gamble beyond the boundaries of both love and sense. Now she was in another city so enchanting that it might have been designed for lovers. But instead of revelling in the company of a chosen man she was alone again. Unwanted. Looking in from the outside, as so many times before in her life.

But enough was enough. This was the last time she would stand outside the magic circle, longing for a signal from within; the last time she would wait for a man to make up his mind. Her mind was made up, and he could live with it.