Wedding in Venice Read online

  "I did not spend the night with him – not the way you mean, anyway."

  "Well, you came home with the dawn."

  "I bet you were all hanging out of the windows," Justine said wrathfully.

  Dulcie chuckled. "Let's just say it's not a secret."

  "So he'll be coming here to talk to Liza?" Justine asked, trying to sound indifferent.

  "I'll tell Liza you want him," Dulcie said mischievously.

  "You do and you're dead!" Justine said quickly.

  Her own heart was hidden from her. Did she want to see Riccardo or not? He was dangerous because he wouldn't be pigeonholed, and he wouldn't let her take control of their relationship. But that was the only way that she felt safe.

  That day she took her camera and went to explore Venice, thinking that when she returned he would be gone. But suddenly she felt distressed at the thought of missing him, and ran all the way back.

  Then, disgusted with herself for shilly-shallying over a man, she refused to go anywhere near the kitchen, where he probably was, and sought the garden.

  And there he was, talking and laughing with Guido, Marco and Leo. Worst of all, when the three Calvanis saw her, they immediately vanished with a speed that told her what the palazzo gossip was.

  "I had hoped to find you here," he said, when they were alone.

  "I have a lot of pictures to take," she said. "I'm hurrying to get everything done before the wedding."

  "Of course. I, too, have much work to do, but I couldn't leave without seeing you. Does that make you angry?"

  "Of course not. Why should it make me angry?"

  He gave his wry smile with the wicked hint of mischief, and she had to work hard not to be melted by it.

  "So much that I do seems to annoy you," he said. "I've learned to tread carefully. I'm really very scared of you."

  "Don't be absurd," she said, laughing despite herself.

  What could you do with a man who talked like this, except smile back at him and feel that the day had become brighter?

  To give herself a moment she turned away to lean on the railing overlooking the Grand Canal. Riccardo came to stand close behind her.

  "There's something I must tell you," he said quietly.

  "What?"

  "That I've thought about nothing but you since we said good night."

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Nothing but me?" Justine asked lightly. "I hope you gave some thought to the food as well."

  Riccardo didn't answer at first, but turned her to look at him.

  "It's no good," he said at last. "You can't make a joke of it. That won't solve the problem. And somehow we have to find a way to solve it."

  "So you admit it's a problem?"

  "Of course it's a problem when a man has fallen in love with a woman, and she -"

  "Don't you dare say that I'm in love with you," she spit out.

  "How can I? I don't know, any more than you do. I only know that you're fighting it – fighting me. And you're angry with me. Can't you tell me why?"

  "You know why," she murmured. "I don't want to feel what I'm feeling. I've got my life in such good order, and you're threatening everything."

  "No, I'm only threatening the bolts and bars with which you try to imprison yourself."

  "You think I want to be locked in there?"

  "Partly, yes. Prison can be a very comforting place. You know where everything is. But I won't let you cling to it. When the wedding is over, I shall be back, knocking on the door."

  "And you're so sure that I'll open it for you?"

  "No, I'm not sure at all. I'm never sure with you. Perhaps that's why it has to be you and no other."

  The sound of voices from inside the building drew them back to reality.

  "I must go," he said reluctantly. "But I'll be back."

  He would have turned away, but Justine detained him with her hands on his shoulders, just long enough to kiss him gently.

  "Yes," she said. "You must come back."

  * * *

  The next day saw the first wedding, that of the count and Liza, a small, private occasion that took place in a side chapel of St. Mark's Basilica. The day after, it was Dulcie and Guido's turn.

  No city in the world staged a wedding like Venice. It was normal for a bride to go to the church in a gondola, but Guido sometimes amused himself by being a part-time gondolier, and many of his friends had turned out for the occasion. At least twenty gondolas escorted Dulcie down the Grand Canal from the Rialto Bridge to the landing stage at St. Mark's.

  Justine took pictures to her heart's content, traveling just ahead of the convoy in a motorboat. Landing first, she was able to witness Dulcie's arrival at the great church.

  * * *

  When the bride and groom emerged from the basilica together Justine took her final pictures and raced for the motorboat, to be whisked back to the palazzo and start frantically downloading. When she'd finished, she joined the reception for her final shots, which she took between mouthfuls of wedding cake.

  At last the tables were cleared away for the dancing to begin. Dulcie and Guido took the floor, to applause. Gradually the other guests joined them, until everyone seemed to be dancing, except Justine.

  The music was sweet and sensuous, disturbing her vaguely. Nobody should listen to music like that without dancing to it.

  "You look tired," said a sympathetic voice at her shoulder.

  She turned and saw Riccardo holding out a glass of champagne to her. She drained it thankfully.

  "Hey, Riccardo" came Guido's cheerful voice as he danced past with his bride in his arms. "Your duties are finished. From now on you're our guest.

  Riccardo smiled and nodded, taking Justine's hand.

  "Dance with me," he said.

  As if in a dream she circled the floor with him, feeling the movement of his legs, the closeness of his body to hers, and knowing that she had been waiting for this all day.

  She had expected him to talk, trying to dazzle her with words again, but instead he looked at her tenderly, in silence, until she could sense that he was caught in the same dream.

  Then there was a small commotion. Marco and Harriet were dancing together, absorbed in each other as she hadn't seen them before.

  Justine remembered Dulcie's prediction that they were more in love than they thought, and reckoned it might be true. Everyone else thought so, too, because suddenly they were crowding around them, demanding that they set the date for their own wedding.

  Justine didn't stay to hear what happened. Riccardo had clasped her hand and was drawing her out into the garden.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The garden was flooded with light from the colored lamps hung between the trees. Guests milled everywhere.

  "Let us escape them," Riccardo said, drawing Justine beneath the trees, and not stopping until they had reached the furthest part of the garden.

  Once there he wasted no time before taking her into his arms. Justine went willingly. It was no use pretending to herself that she didn't want to kiss him. She wanted it passionately.

  He had said he'd thought of nothing but her, and she knew now that everything that had happened to her in those few days, everything she'd seen or heard or done, had simply been another way of waiting for him.

  Once before she had come alive in his arms, high on the roof, under the stars. Some part of her was still living in that moment, ready and eager for his touch.

  The words he wanted to hear were hard for her, but her mouth spoke to him just the same, caressing his with skill and joy, saying things that could not be said aloud, and eliciting a response that thrilled her. She could feel the excitement mounting but was no longer sure whether it was his or her own. Where did he end and she begin?

  "I mustn't kiss you too much," he said at last, huskily, drawing back. "It's dangerous."

  She laughed recklessly. "What's wrong with a little danger? I thought you were the kind of man who enjoyed it."

  "Don't provoke m
e, Justine, I'm almost at the end of my control already."

  "Then let's be sedate and well behaved," she said, forcing herself to back away from him. It was hard because she was as fired up as he.

  She went to the stone wall and looked out over the water.

  "Look there," Riccardo said. "Do you recognize them?"

  A solitary gondola was gliding out from the palazzo. Justine could see Dulcie reclining in her wedding gown, while Guido took the oar.

  "He's got a tiny apartment tucked away somewhere," she said. "Dulcie said they're spending their honeymoon there, away from the world. What an incredibly romantic way to end a wedding!"

  "Romantic. Meaning that you disapprove?"

  "I wish them well. I hope they'll be the one couple in the world to prove that it can work the way it's supposed to.

  "Don't forget the promise you made me, not to leave without seeing me again," he reminded her.

  "I've seen you twice since then."

  "Not the way I meant. I'll call for you in the boat tomorrow morning and take you – well, wait and see."

  "I may have other things to do tomorrow."

  His answer was to wrap his arms tightly about her, taking her prisoner.

  "No," he said firmly. "You haven't."

  "Oh, yes, I have," she retorted playfully.

  "Oh, no, you haven't," he assured her just as playfully.

  "Well then, I guess I haven't." She smiled.

  He kissed her briefly and released her.

  "I'll see you tomorrow."

  He slipped away before anyone could see them together, and Justine wandered back to the wedding, where everyone was toasting Marco and Harriet.

  * * *

  She dressed for boating in dark blue trousers and a white silk top.

  Riccardo was waiting for her in Guido's motorboat, borrowed for the occasion.

  He was dressed in black shorts and shirt, the black stark against the brown of his skin.

  He reached up to help her into the boat.

  "Steady, careful," he said.

  "I'm not breakable." She laughed. "I could simply jump in. Or fall in. I've done it before."

  "Yes, twice," he agreed with comical gravity. "It's causing talk. If you do it a third time you'll have to marry me."

  She shook her head, her eyes dancing. "A terrible fate."

  "Do you think so?"

  "I meant for you. Imagine having to marry me for a reason like that."

  "I'd marry you for any reason if I thought I could talk you into it."

  Chapter Sixteen

  For a while Justine concentrated on enjoying the day out as Riccardo gently urged the motorboat down the Grand Canal and out into the lagoon where there were miles of open water, bounded on the far side by the long islands of the Lido.

  "Where are we going?" she asked, standing beside him at the wheel.

  "We're going nowhere," he replied, putting his arm about her and drawing her tightly against him.

  "Where's nowhere?"

  "Wait and see."

  That was fine with her. Who could ask for more than to drift across the water, going nowhere with him?

  "There's some champagne below," he said.

  She went down and found the boat less cramped than she had expected. There was a large cushioned space, almost as big as a double bed. In the picnic hamper she found champagne and glasses, and took them up.

  He stopped the boat within sight of some of the smaller islands, and they drank contentedly.

  "If this is nowhere, I love it," she said.

  He nodded. "The most peaceful place on earth." He brushed her face gently. "I love you."

  She shook her head. "Don't."

  "Do you find it so hard to believe?"

  "So quickly? Yes, it's hard."

  His shrug had a touch of helplessness that sat oddly with his usual air of confidence.

  "I, too, was taken by surprise. You see, I'm like you. I plan my life ahead. I had not planned for you, and yet there you were, at the airport.

  "Justine, I don't understand what's happened to us any more than you do. I only know that it has happened, and there's no going back. To say that it's too soon, that we've barely met, is easy. I admit it, but it changes nothing.

  "That day I went to the airport, I had nothing on my mind but collecting supplies. Then I looked up and saw the woman I'd been waiting for all my life. She was red-haired and glorious, and she looked me straight in the eye in a way that said, 'Fool with me at your peril.'

  "I'd never had a challenge that thrilled me more. There and then I decided to fool with her. And the more I knew her, the more I knew it had to be for the rest of my life."

  "Don't I get a say?"

  "Of course. Tell me what you want from me. A brief adventure? Fine. We'll have an adventure. And afterward you will stay with me forever."

  "Then it wouldn't be an adventure," she countered. "An adventure is brief. That's why it's an adventure."

  "And you don't think that spending your life with one man might be an adventure?"

  "That's just clever words."

  "What you really want is a fling, but flings are for people who can't commit themselves."

  "You forget I've been married."

  "No, I don't forget. But I don't think you committed yourself to that marriage, otherwise you wouldn't have cast it aside at the first hurdle."

  "You know nothing about it," she cried, on the defensive again.

  "Then tell me. Show me that I'm wrong."

  "I don't have to explain myself to you."

  "Not to me, but to yourself. Have you ever tried to do that, beyond believing that all your prejudices had been proved correct?"

  "I don't have to listen to this."

  "Fine, run away."

  Justine looked all around her. Water everywhere.

  "Well, I can't, can I?" she seethed. "I'm trapped out here now."

  "Ah, yes! I never thought of that."

  "Like hell you didn't."

  He grinned.

  "Will you please start this engine and take me back to Venice?"

  "I've got a better idea," he said. "Why don't we go below and have something to eat?"

  For a moment she glared at him, then relented. "All right, but it's under protest!"

  "Of course. You'll find the smoked salmon tastes just as good under protest."

  She aimed a friendly punch at him. It was too glorious a day for anger.

  The picnic hamper was full of the very finest from the hotel. As she unpacked and they reclined against the cushions, she asked, "How is it you were able to take the day off?"

  "I did well out of those catering assignments, so I could hire some extra help for a few days. This is more important."

  As he'd promised, the food was exquisite. For once she forgot about healthy eating and indulged herself. Afterward she was suddenly sleepy, and when he drew her back against his shoulder she nodded off at once.

  She awoke to find him watching her and had a sudden conviction that he'd been doing that all the time.

  "Now tell me about yourself," he said. "I want to know everything."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Held in the safety of Riccardo's arms, Justine struggled with memories that usually she tried never to think of.

  "Until I was eight years old I thought I had a happy home. I knew my parents loved each other more than they loved me, but there was love to spare for everyone, or so I thought." Justine let out a sigh. It was difficult for her to talk about this.

  "My mother used to say that being in love was the most important thing in the world, and nothing mattered more than being true to your heart.

  "But then she fell in love with another man, and he became the most important thing in the world – enough for her to leave us to be with him."

  Justine gave a little wry smile. "She had to be true to her heart, you see. Well, she was. She made a fine romantic heroine, giving up everything for love. But one of the things she gave up w
as me."

  Riccardo was watching her with shocked intensity. "She didn't take you with her?"

  "But how could she?" Justine asked in a rallying voice. "Romantic heroines can't have eight-year-old kids in tow."

  He gave her hand the smallest squeeze, as if to show that he understood her irony.

  "So you stayed with your father?" he asked.

  "For a while. Then he dumped me on one of his sisters while he went out on the town. He didn't want me cramping his style, either. In due course he fell in love again.

  "They sent me to boarding school for a while. Then there was some mix-up about who was supposed to be collecting me for Christmas. In the end, neither of them did. I spent Christmas in the care of the Social Services."

  Riccardo swore violently. Justine didn't understand the words, but from his tone she guessed it was a profanity. She felt vaguely comforted at the fierceness of his empathy.

  "I never lived with either of my parents again," she went on. "Neither of their new marriages lasted. My mother is currently being true to her heart in South America with a man ten years younger. We don't keep in touch."

  "So that's why your views are jaded," Riccardo said. "And who could blame you?"

  "As far as I'm concerned love is just an excuse for selfishness."

  "In selfish people, yes. But love doesn't make us what we are. It merely reveals the truth about us. Selfish people love selfishly, generous people love generously. Your parents were spoiled brats, but don't blame love. It didn't make them that way."

  "It gave them the excuse," she said stubbornly.

  "But you were married. Didn't you love him?"

  "So much that it scared me."

  "Ah. I see."

  "Don't say that. You don't see anything. I wanted our marriage to work, but – I can't explain -"

  She could never explain the fear that had pervaded her. Too much happiness, she had thought. One day it would be snatched away. Watch for that moment, be ready for it, go to meet it with a smile, and don't let anyone know you care. Never, never let them know that.