Dante's Dilemma (a Dante Legacy Novella) (14 page)

He shook his head, his amusement fading. “It just appeared in front of me. Two roads, one leading to a life of joy and abundance—”

“—the other to loneliness,” she finished for him. “I saw it, too.”

“Then you know we’ve chosen the right road. Are you ready, my love?” he asked tenderly. “Are you willing to take the first step toward joy?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her face to his. “We’ve already taken the first step. Now we take all the steps that come after.”

Tito sat on a wrought-iron bench in the prayer garden alongside the church, relieved everyone had finally taken their pity and left him in peace. He stared moodily at the stone statues placed at strategic points along the various pathways. No doubt they were meant to inspire calm and serenity. They weren’t working.

He’d never seen it coming. Never for a moment believed his best friend would steal away his bride. Well, Rom was welcome to her.
May he find joy in her cold arms and their even colder marital bed.

The clanking of a nearby gate captured his attention, and he glanced up to see Serena enter the garden. Anger shot through him. Great. Just what he needed. Another Bianchi woman. Just perfect. “Are you here to apologize for Julietta?” he demanded at her approach. “For your family?”

For some reason, she didn’t look the least apologetic. Instead, she confronted him with a lifted eyebrow. “Apologize for what?” she had the nerve to ask. “In my opinion, you had a lucky escape. You should be grateful my sister left you for Romero, not angry.”

“Then why are you here, if not to beg my pardon?” He glared at her. “Perhaps your parents think I’d accept you in place of Julietta. Is that why you’re here, as some poor substitute?”

Her anger rose to meet his. “First, I’m no one’s substitute. Any man would be lucky to have me, Tito Rossi. Even you.
Especially
you. And second, you can’t have me that easily.”

What the hell? “Who said I want you?”

She eyed him boldly. “I say. You’ve wanted me from the start, just as I’ve wanted you. Deny it, and I’ll know I’ve given my heart to a liar.”

She’d shocked him and he slowly stood. “Your heart?”

She tossed back her hair, long, straight hair as inky as the nighttime sky and as different from her sister’s as midnight from midday. “Do you think I’m an easy woman?” she demanded, her gypsy-dark eyes flashing with disdain. “That I’d kiss my sister’s fiancé just for fun? That I’d risk hurting her, unless I had strong feelings for the man involved? That I’d go against my parents’ plans for me on a whim?”

Memories of their kiss crowded in, rushing though him in a molten stream. She’d tasted so sweet, so earthy and ripe. And they’d fit together as perfectly as he and Julietta had fit together imperfectly. He also remembered his parting words to her, “It should have been you.” He’d been more right than he’d realized. “Are you saying you love me?” he asked abruptly.

“I do if you’re the man I believe you to be,” she stunned him by replying. “Shall we find out?”

“How?”

She closed the distance between them, stopping him when he’d have taken her into his arms. “First, we need honesty between us.”

He thrust a hand through his hair and eyed her grimly. “It would make for a pleasant change.”

“I agree. And part of that honesty means telling you that I encouraged my sister to run away with Rom. That I helped her, though my parents knew nothing about it.”

Anger ripped through him. “Why would you do that?”

She vacillated, clearly hesitant to confess the full extent of her crimes, despite her desire for honesty. “I wish I could say I did it for altruistic reasons, that Julietta’s happiness meant more to me than any other consideration.”

“But that would be a lie.” He was learning to read her.

She bowed her head. “Yes. I didn’t want her to marry you. Not after what happened between us the night of your engagement party. You were wrong for each other. But we—” She looked at him, and her heart crept into her gaze. “We were right. So very right.”

He couldn’t deny it. “And now you expect me to marry you in her place?”

To his surprise, Serena shook her head. “No. Not until we’re certain it’s what we both want. And not until my parents agree that I’m not meant for the convent and my sister Rosa should take my place.”

“What about the vineyard?”

She took a deep breath. “I need to tell you something, something that will change everything between us.”

Suspicion filled him. “Go on.”

“My parents borrowed money against the vineyards. That money comes due soon. If they can’t pay it, we’ll lose our home, and you’ll be able to purchase the vineyard for far less than what my parents are asking—and without having to marry in order to own it.”

“What?”

She faced him, her shoulders squared, her rounded chin set at a combative angle. For some peculiar reason, it made her even more appealing. A rebellious hen defying the cocky rooster. “We’ll lose everything. We’ll be destitute. But you’ll own your precious vineyards.”

He should have been happy with the news. Why wasn’t he happy? Why wasn’t he shoving past her and celebrating his narrow escape? Instead, he found himself rooted in place. “Or?” he found himself prompting.

She took a deep breath. “Or you can court me. Properly. Though not with the ring meant for my sister. Allow me some pride. Once you’re certain I’ll make you a suitable wife—and I will—you can pay off my parents’ debt.” Her mouth curved into a wry smile. “No doubt you’ll pay far more than that since my parents will have nothing but a rich son-in-law to provide for them and my sisters.”

“And why would I do that?”

She continued to face him without flinching. “Because you’ll also have me. It’s your choice whether you have just the vineyards, or if you have a family who will adore you and a wife who will love you like no one else will ever love you.” She gripped her hands together, and he suddenly realized they were shaking. She was shaking. He could understand it. She was risking everything with her confession. “I’m telling you all of this because I won’t go into a marriage with any deception between us. When you make your choice, it will be with all the facts.”

And now the decision was his. Two roads opened before him, as sharp and clear as a summer’s day. The left-hand road offered glittering success and wealth, following in his father’s footsteps. The right-hand road also offered success, but of a different sort. This road held more trials and tribulations, his success hard-won and long-fought. But on that road stood Serena, beautiful and passionate, along with a son and daughter. And while his daughter stood in shadow, Rom’s ring on her finger, his son stood in brilliant sunshine, his eyes as dark and brilliant as his mother’s. Tito knew which road he wanted….

And he took it.

He hooked a finger in the neckline of Serena’s blouse and gave a gentle tug. She stepped into his arms, the fit as perfect as the first time they’d embraced. “You put a high price on yourself.”

“Yes, I do.” She lifted her mouth to his. “But I’m worth it.”

She proved it with a slow, thorough kiss that made promises he couldn’t wait for her to fulfill. They didn’t speak for a long time. When they parted, both a bit more rumpled and a lot more breathless, it was Serena who, in typical fashion, cut right to the heart of the matter.

“What about Rom and Julietta? Do you think you can forgive them?”

He nodded. “I forgave them as soon as I realized I’d been saved from a cold, miserable marriage.”

“Can you convince my parents not to chase after them?”

“I’ll do what I can.”

She sighed in relief. “When are you going to tell Rom and Julietta that all is forgiven?”

He frowned, anger still grumbling beneath the surface. “You assume a lot. I don’t recall saying all is forgiven.”

She smiled knowingly. “When?”

Tito shrugged. “Eventually.” Then he grinned. “But not until they’ve had a few years to wallow in their guilt and suffer for what they did. After all, they’ve saddled me with an irritating wife who will nag me incessantly.”

“Probably.”

He released a reluctant sigh. “But at least you’ll warm my bed.”

“Such a tepid description. Don’t you long for something far more than mere warmth?” She caught his earlobe between her teeth and gave him a gentle love bite. “Maybe something as hot as Mt. Vesuvius.”

He shuddered. “You would have made a lousy nun.”

“So I keep telling everyone.” She wrapped her arms around Tito’s neck. “But I’ll make a superb wife.”

Julietta didn’t remember much of the wedding ceremony, only dreamy moments awash with soft color and sound.
Nonno’s
gruff laugh when he tucked a bit of iron in Rom’s pocket to ward off evil spirits. His gifting her with his handkerchief to cover her loosened hair, to use in place of the veil she’d lost. His ripping a corner for luck. The shadowy coolness inside the sanctuary. The dust motes that danced in the dying rays of sunlight filtering through the latticework of the confessional. Her confession and the balm of forgiveness. The purifying scent of incense and the ritual of the Mass. The sanctity of their ultimate joining. The kindness in the voice and gaze of the elderly priest when he blessed their union. The weight of the handcrafted gold band Rom slid on her finger. The kiss of her husband, the first as his wife. The passion that lingered like a promise behind that kiss.

The impressions all melded together into a delicious medley of scents and sounds, tastes and touches. But the image that remained first and foremost was the sheer adoration and love on Rom’s face when they were pronounced husband and wife. His eyes blazed molten gold with the intensity of his feelings for her, feelings she returned with every particle of her being.

They exited the church into twilight. A photographer waited for them, another gift from
Nonno
. Julietta and Rom faced the camera nervously and Rom took Julietta’s hand, squeezing it tight. They glanced at each other an instant before the photo was snapped… and relaxed into the certainty of their love. The photographer grinned in delight at capturing the candid moment and promised to have a copy ready for them the next morning.

Nonno
stepped forward and kissed the bride.
“Evviva gli sposi,”
he said, offering the traditional post-ceremonial greeting. Tears gathered in his eyes as he pulled his grandson in for a warm hug. “It hurts my heart to say farewell, even as it fills me with joy to see your happiness. Know I go with you in spirit,
nipote.”

Rom thumped his grandfather on the back and reluctantly released him. “The invitation is still open,
Nonno
. You’re welcome to join us, anytime.”

“Who knows what God has in store for us? Perhaps there will be occasion for a visit.” He released his breath in a heavy sigh. “In a few minutes I must go and visit some old friends so I have a story to cover my actions. When I return to Santa Lucia and hear of your disgrace, I will show great sadness over my wayward grandson. And of course, I will know nothing of how such a thing might have happened.”

Rom eyed his grandfather grimly. “Don’t take any
merda
from Luigi.”

Nonno
chuckled. “He will not dare, considering I contribute heavily to the support of his family.” He removed a thick envelope from his jacket pocket. “This is for you and your lovely bride. For emergencies.”

Rom shook his head and held up his hands.
“Nonno,
I don’t need your money.”

But his grandfather wouldn’t be denied and forcibly tucked the envelope in his grandson’s pocket. “It is mine to give as I see fit. It is my legacy to you, along with this….” He handed over a small box. “Consider it a
bon voyage
present. Then, tomorrow, Aldo will come to take you to Florence. That will be my last gift to you.”

“Thank you,” Julietta said and embraced Rom’s grandfather. “Thank you for everything.”

An ancient car pulled up and honked. “That is my ride.” Tears fell to
Nonno’s
cheeks, sliding into the heavy crevices lining his face. He wiped the dampness away with shaky hands. “I seem to have lost my handkerchief,” he joked gruffly.