He shook his head, smiling indulgently. ‘I will protect the shopping from your gelato while you enjoy. Is there more you wish to buy? Or we could explore the great church of Santa Croce here.’
‘I’d like to very much, but I’d better leave that for another time.’ Not that there would be another time. She looked up at the magnificent facade with regret. ‘Shall we go back now?’
‘Whatever you wish, Rose. Where would you like to dine tonight?’
So he meant them to dine together again. Irritated by her pleasure at the prospect, she told him that at that moment, her palate still rocking with strawberry gelato, it was difficult to think of food. ‘Maybe we could eat in the hotel again?’ At least that way the cost of dinner would appear on her hotel bill and she would feel less obligated.
Dante frowned. ‘If you really wish to. But there are many restaurants in Firenze. One of my favourites is right here in Santa Croce. We could take a taxi if you are tired. You can decide later when you have rested.’
She nodded. ‘Fine.’
‘I will see you at nine then, Rose.’
‘I’ll be ready. Are you taking a rest, too?’
He nodded. ‘Also I must make a few phone calls, touch base, as you say. Ciao.’
Rose waited to make sure Dante stayed put in his room and then, praying she wouldn’t get lost, hurried out of the hotel to make her way back to the Piazza della Repubblica to buy some of the delightful things she’d seen earlier in the department store. It might be Fabio’s money, but he would approve of presents for Bea. When she got back she stowed her packages away in her suitcase and, feeling hot and grubby after her rushed, guilty shopping spree, checked her messages, grateful to find a brief but totally reassuring one from her mother. The other, at last, was from Charlotte, so obviously happy Rose felt a searing pang of envy for an instant before stepping into the shower, but afterwards fell into instant sleep so heavy it took the phone to wake her.
‘Willow House Bookkeeping,’ she muttered sleepily, and bit her lip at the sound of Dante’s chuckle.
‘You are in Firenze now, cara. You obviously slept well!’
She stifled a yawn. ‘Very well.’ She sat bolt upright after a look at her watch. ‘And much too long!’
‘Bene. You obviously needed this. Sleep longer if you wish.’
‘No, indeed. Just give me half an hour and I’ll be ready.’
‘I shall knock on your door.’
Rose shot off the bed to wash and get to work on her face. Wishing she had something different to wear, she brushed her hair loose to ring the changes a little with the faithful black dress, and flung the scarf bought for her mother over one shoulder.
‘You glow, cara,’ Dante told her when she opened the door to him later.
‘Surprising what a little nap can do for a girl.’ She smiled guiltily. ‘I thought Mum wouldn’t mind if I wore her present just once first, but I must be careful not to get anything on it—no more gelato, for a start.’
‘Should such a tragedy happen, I will buy you another. So, Rose, do you still wish to dine here, or would you like something more animado, where locals eat?’
‘Animado with locals, definitely. And I’m perfectly happy to walk.’ Maybe she could persuade him to let her go halves with the bill.