cynic.'
'I'm no saint,' he agreed, 'but I know how to treat a woman who fires my blood.'
'Yes,' her face was pensive, 'I learned how well in Naples.'
'See Naples and die, eh?' he mocked.
'You killed something in me, Rome.'
'A girlish idealism maybe. A belief in shining knights who rescue maidens in distress. Did you come to the casino hoping to find a modern equivalent who'd regard you as a damsel in distress?'
'The moment I saw you—!' She clamped her lip and shook her head. The angry hurt boy had become a man, eyes glinting with the shared memories as they swept up and down her grown up figure.
'Strange we should meet again, eh? What was between us was unfinished and incomplete, and being Latin I believe in the machinations of fate. Had my parents stayed in Italy instead of going to the States I might now be working contentedly in a vineyard or running a
ristorante
, and you would no doubt have married into the social register and remained unaware of my existence. As it is, Julia,
che sera, sera
.'
'Fasten your safety belts, please.' The stewardess was leaning over Rome, giving him a shy but inviting smile. Julia wondered if the girl hoped for some signal from him that he would like to see her again, and she watched him as if hoping for his betrayal.
'Napoli,' he said. 'It's where I met my wife.'
'Then you must be longing to get there, sir.'
'We are, aren't we, my dear?' He directed a slight smile at Julia.
'I can't wait,' she said cynically, and as the aircraft began to lose height, she felt as if her heart was sinking as well.
CHAPTER THREE
The late afternoon was sheened with a raw gold haze, lovely and just a little melancholy. The vine-terraced hills had a blue look and trees made lacy smudges of shadow, and here and there were women shrouded in black, making their way home after a day in the fields. It was like another world to Julia, with an unreal quality to it, for here long ago in this lush countryside the Romans had built their fine white villas when they retired from their campaigns or their seats in the Senate.
The noisy, teeming city of Naples had been left far behind and she listened to the easy purring of the sleek Maserati as it took the steep gradient with its spectacular views over sea and land. Rome's car had been garaged at the casino while he flew to New York to attend her sister's wedding and of necessity they had gone there by cab from the airport. Seeing the place once more, with the broad palm trees green against the white walls, had brought back memories that made it difficult for Julia to enjoy the drive to Campania.
Everything would have been so different had she been a carefree tourist, with nothing to mar the journey for her. If she could have relaxed she might have found really fascinating the natural beauty of it all, with Vesuvius smouldering over the ruins of Pompeii, and below the curving, spectacular highway the deep waters of Lake Averno, where the boats to Hades were said to glide when darkness fell.
Rome swung the wheel of the car and cornered with all the expertise of an Italian who took pride in a speedy, well-constructed car. He wore pigskin driving gloves, and the interior of the Maserati, upholstered in fire-red suede, bore all the signs that the car hadn't come off the production line but had been custom-built to Rome's demanding specifications. Julia's seat felt as comfortable as a lounger, and across her body a leather strap was fastened by a buckle much smoother and easier than others she had worn.
She admired the precision and quality of Rome's driving with the detachment of a stranger. From a deprived boy he had certainly grown into a man of initiative, with a look of style and culture about him. Few people would have guessed that the sophistication concealed a creature as dangerous as a tiger; sleek and merciless in dealing with his prey. People would have scoffed that a woman in a beautiful cashmere coat, wearing on her hand a costly emerald ring,
'I'm no saint,' he agreed, 'but I know how to treat a woman who fires my blood.'
'Yes,' her face was pensive, 'I learned how well in Naples.'
'See Naples and die, eh?' he mocked.
'You killed something in me, Rome.'
'A girlish idealism maybe. A belief in shining knights who rescue maidens in distress. Did you come to the casino hoping to find a modern equivalent who'd regard you as a damsel in distress?'
'The moment I saw you—!' She clamped her lip and shook her head. The angry hurt boy had become a man, eyes glinting with the shared memories as they swept up and down her grown up figure.
'Strange we should meet again, eh? What was between us was unfinished and incomplete, and being Latin I believe in the machinations of fate. Had my parents stayed in Italy instead of going to the States I might now be working contentedly in a vineyard or running a
ristorante
, and you would no doubt have married into the social register and remained unaware of my existence. As it is, Julia,
che sera, sera
.'
'Fasten your safety belts, please.' The stewardess was leaning over Rome, giving him a shy but inviting smile. Julia wondered if the girl hoped for some signal from him that he would like to see her again, and she watched him as if hoping for his betrayal.
'Napoli,' he said. 'It's where I met my wife.'
'Then you must be longing to get there, sir.'
'We are, aren't we, my dear?' He directed a slight smile at Julia.
'I can't wait,' she said cynically, and as the aircraft began to lose height, she felt as if her heart was sinking as well.
CHAPTER THREE
The late afternoon was sheened with a raw gold haze, lovely and just a little melancholy. The vine-terraced hills had a blue look and trees made lacy smudges of shadow, and here and there were women shrouded in black, making their way home after a day in the fields. It was like another world to Julia, with an unreal quality to it, for here long ago in this lush countryside the Romans had built their fine white villas when they retired from their campaigns or their seats in the Senate.
The noisy, teeming city of Naples had been left far behind and she listened to the easy purring of the sleek Maserati as it took the steep gradient with its spectacular views over sea and land. Rome's car had been garaged at the casino while he flew to New York to attend her sister's wedding and of necessity they had gone there by cab from the airport. Seeing the place once more, with the broad palm trees green against the white walls, had brought back memories that made it difficult for Julia to enjoy the drive to Campania.
Everything would have been so different had she been a carefree tourist, with nothing to mar the journey for her. If she could have relaxed she might have found really fascinating the natural beauty of it all, with Vesuvius smouldering over the ruins of Pompeii, and below the curving, spectacular highway the deep waters of Lake Averno, where the boats to Hades were said to glide when darkness fell.
Rome swung the wheel of the car and cornered with all the expertise of an Italian who took pride in a speedy, well-constructed car. He wore pigskin driving gloves, and the interior of the Maserati, upholstered in fire-red suede, bore all the signs that the car hadn't come off the production line but had been custom-built to Rome's demanding specifications. Julia's seat felt as comfortable as a lounger, and across her body a leather strap was fastened by a buckle much smoother and easier than others she had worn.
She admired the precision and quality of Rome's driving with the detachment of a stranger. From a deprived boy he had certainly grown into a man of initiative, with a look of style and culture about him. Few people would have guessed that the sophistication concealed a creature as dangerous as a tiger; sleek and merciless in dealing with his prey. People would have scoffed that a woman in a beautiful cashmere coat, wearing on her hand a costly emerald ring,
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