interrupted by the waiter, who set a couple of bowls in front of us, each with a beautifully plated small portion of fish. “ Bon appetit, ” he said and receded.
I dug in with gusto. I was suddenly starving. The fish was delicious. I made a small moan of appreciation as I ate, and Antonio’s lips twitched. “Tell me about Casanova,” he said.
I was suddenly wary. “What do you want to know?”
“Why don’t you play outside of Casanova?” he asked. “Why just in the club?”
I chewed a piece of fish as I thought about how to reply. “It’s safer in the club,” I replied.
“A half-truth.” His voice was even. Being able to tell when you were being lied to was probably part of the training you needed to become the head of Thieves Guild.
“I don’t get involved,” I said.
“Why?”
“Love is loss, Antonio.” My gaze was direct. “Love is pain.”
He made a small noise of dissent. “Ah, Lucia. Trust me when I tell you it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.”
I would have protested angrily, but Antonio had never known his parents. He had neither known the warmth of a mother’s hug, nor the strong grip of a father’s steadfast love. I kept quiet and ate, lost in thought for the remainder of the meal.
***
“Come here,” he said, when the waiter had set our desserts in front of us. I looked up and he patted the space next to him. I rose up and sat by his side, and he pulled me into his body so that my back was resting on his chest. Our waiter had discreetly vanished.
He kissed my neck, and held a spoonful of chocolate mousse out in front of my mouth. I opened it dutifully, and he fed me spoonfuls of dessert and berries from his fingers. “Why so pensive, Lucia?”
“You just gave me an abbreviated lesson in perspective,” I said. “I’m absorbing it.”
“How so, sweetness?” I opened my mouth and chewed on the raspberry he fed me.
“My dad shot himself when my mother died of cancer. I was twenty-one.”
I could feel him nod. He kissed me again on the neck. “I was at the funeral,” he said.
He had said that before. “You weren’t the head of Thieves Guild then. I would have remembered meeting you.”
“No, I wasn’t,” he replied. He fed me another spoonful of mousse.
“Anyway,” I said, continuing my train of thought. “I suddenly realized there are worse things. Never knowing a parent, for instance.”
The fingers of one hand continued stroking my neck. He moved his other hand around my waist, and pulled me close to his body. I suddenly wanted to kiss him very badly, and so I twisted around and my lips met his.
After an initial surprised pause, he pulled my head into his hands, and kissed me back, very, very thoroughly. My lips felt swollen when we were done. I looked at him, need obvious in my eyes.
He quickly waved for the bill and paid it. The waiter fussed around us, anxious to know if everything met with Mr. Moretti’s satisfaction. “Everything was lovely,” Antonio said politely. “Thank you.” He placed a hand in the small of my back, and we left, walking back towards my apartment. Our guards were once again following us.
“They don’t eat at Quadri?” I asked wryly.
“Would you believe I’ve offered?” he remarked. “They put up with it once, and then told me they preferred pizza. Philistines.”
I laughed. “Where are we going next?” I asked him.
He smiled. “To your apartment,” he replied.
I gazed at him with disappointment in my eyes. I wanted him to take me to his dungeon. When we walked up to my building, he took the front door key from my hands to open the door for me. “Come, I’ll walk you upstairs,” he said. “Your building is far from secure.”
“I’m rather aware of that,” I replied dryly. “I still want my painting back.”
He laughed. “All in due time, sweetness,” he said.
At my apartment door, I looked at him hopefully. “Would you like to come in?” I asked him. I
I dug in with gusto. I was suddenly starving. The fish was delicious. I made a small moan of appreciation as I ate, and Antonio’s lips twitched. “Tell me about Casanova,” he said.
I was suddenly wary. “What do you want to know?”
“Why don’t you play outside of Casanova?” he asked. “Why just in the club?”
I chewed a piece of fish as I thought about how to reply. “It’s safer in the club,” I replied.
“A half-truth.” His voice was even. Being able to tell when you were being lied to was probably part of the training you needed to become the head of Thieves Guild.
“I don’t get involved,” I said.
“Why?”
“Love is loss, Antonio.” My gaze was direct. “Love is pain.”
He made a small noise of dissent. “Ah, Lucia. Trust me when I tell you it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.”
I would have protested angrily, but Antonio had never known his parents. He had neither known the warmth of a mother’s hug, nor the strong grip of a father’s steadfast love. I kept quiet and ate, lost in thought for the remainder of the meal.
***
“Come here,” he said, when the waiter had set our desserts in front of us. I looked up and he patted the space next to him. I rose up and sat by his side, and he pulled me into his body so that my back was resting on his chest. Our waiter had discreetly vanished.
He kissed my neck, and held a spoonful of chocolate mousse out in front of my mouth. I opened it dutifully, and he fed me spoonfuls of dessert and berries from his fingers. “Why so pensive, Lucia?”
“You just gave me an abbreviated lesson in perspective,” I said. “I’m absorbing it.”
“How so, sweetness?” I opened my mouth and chewed on the raspberry he fed me.
“My dad shot himself when my mother died of cancer. I was twenty-one.”
I could feel him nod. He kissed me again on the neck. “I was at the funeral,” he said.
He had said that before. “You weren’t the head of Thieves Guild then. I would have remembered meeting you.”
“No, I wasn’t,” he replied. He fed me another spoonful of mousse.
“Anyway,” I said, continuing my train of thought. “I suddenly realized there are worse things. Never knowing a parent, for instance.”
The fingers of one hand continued stroking my neck. He moved his other hand around my waist, and pulled me close to his body. I suddenly wanted to kiss him very badly, and so I twisted around and my lips met his.
After an initial surprised pause, he pulled my head into his hands, and kissed me back, very, very thoroughly. My lips felt swollen when we were done. I looked at him, need obvious in my eyes.
He quickly waved for the bill and paid it. The waiter fussed around us, anxious to know if everything met with Mr. Moretti’s satisfaction. “Everything was lovely,” Antonio said politely. “Thank you.” He placed a hand in the small of my back, and we left, walking back towards my apartment. Our guards were once again following us.
“They don’t eat at Quadri?” I asked wryly.
“Would you believe I’ve offered?” he remarked. “They put up with it once, and then told me they preferred pizza. Philistines.”
I laughed. “Where are we going next?” I asked him.
He smiled. “To your apartment,” he replied.
I gazed at him with disappointment in my eyes. I wanted him to take me to his dungeon. When we walked up to my building, he took the front door key from my hands to open the door for me. “Come, I’ll walk you upstairs,” he said. “Your building is far from secure.”
“I’m rather aware of that,” I replied dryly. “I still want my painting back.”
He laughed. “All in due time, sweetness,” he said.
At my apartment door, I looked at him hopefully. “Would you like to come in?” I asked him. I
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