‘She wanted to do that?’
‘Oh, yes.’ He smiled sardonically. ‘Younger faces—and bodies—were winning the top jobs. She was glad to abandon her career while still known as a supermodel. Allora, I no longer see her face on magazine covers everywhere to remind me of my folly.’
‘Is she very beautiful still?’
He nodded carelessly. ‘I have not seen her since she left, but Elsa was obsessed with her looks and I doubt she has changed much. Calvi has children from a former marriage and does not demand the babies that would ruin his trophy wife’s perfect body. I, fool that I was, wanted children very much.’
Rose drank some water, suddenly sorry she’d eaten so much as her stomach lurched at Dante’s heartfelt admission.
His mouth tightened. ‘She waited until our wedding night to tell me she had no intention of having babies. Ever. But no more talk of Elsa.’ Dante looked at Rose in silence for a while, his blue eyes intent. ‘Now I must take you back. I wish you could stay longer, Rose.’
‘Not possible, I’m afraid.’
‘Que peccato! In the morning I will drive you to the airport in Pisa—unless you would prefer the train journey?’ He beckoned to a waiter to bring the bill.
‘No, indeed. But won’t that take up too much of your time?’
‘It is not far out of my way home,’ he assured her, ‘and will give me the pleasure of more time with you before you leave. But this will not be goodbye, Rose. I shall see you when I come to England again next.’
Her heart lurched. If Dante still wanted babies no way was she letting him anywhere near Bea. He took her arm to steer her past an approaching entwined couple as they walked back, the contact raising her pulse rate even higher.
Rose paused when they reached the foot of the hotel steps, her eyes raised to the handsome, intent face. ‘This has been a lovely evening, Dante. Not the kind of thing that features much in my life as a rule.’
‘Yet Charlotte told me you have someone in your life.’
‘He’s a friend from my college days.’
‘But surely you will marry one day, Rose?’
She shrugged. ‘I doubt it.’
Dante held the door open for her. ‘When you see Charlotte so happy with Fabio, do you not wish for a relationship like theirs?’ His eyes darkened as they made for the lift. ‘I have always envied them their marriage.’
‘They’re very lucky.’
Dante halted when they reached her room. ‘Ascolta, it is early yet, Rose. I would so much like to sit with you on your balcony and talk for a while longer like old friends. I can order tea. You would like that?’
She looked at him in silence for a moment. ‘All right, Dante.’ She gave him a wry smile. ‘But only because you said the magic word.’
His smile mirrored hers. ‘Friends?’
‘No—tea!’
Dante laughed and rang room service. After a waiter arrived with a tray Dante tipped him and closed the door behind him then pulled up two of the chairs to the metal table on the balcony overlooking the moonlit Arno. Rose poured tea and the coffee Dante had ordered for himself, and sat back in her chair, eyeing him warily.