Читать книгу Seduction of an English Beauty - Miranda Jarrett - Страница 2

“It was bella fortuna that sent you to me. Bella fortuna—luck, fate. Or is your London too dry and serious for such notions?”

“I don’t believe in fate,” Diana said. “Fate means you’ve abandoned reason and choice.”

“You’re listening too much to your head,” he said, tapping one finger to his brow. “That is acceptable for London, I suppose, but here in Rome you must rely on your heart. Romans do not think. They feel.”

“How did you know I’d be here?” she said, her voice sounding oddly breathy. “I certainly didn’t tell you.”

He smiled. “You didn’t have to. I knew you’d come. I knew it here, in my heart.”

“That’s enough,” she said. “My head—my English head—makes my decisions for me. I must go now, sir.”

“Ahh, you wound me, my lady! Have you remembered so much and forgotten my name?”

She looked up again, unable not to. One minute more with him. That was all she’d allow herself. Maybe two, three, but certainly no more than that. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Then say it, my own Diana,” he whispered. “Say it to me from your heart, not your head.”

“Antonio,” she whispered in return, unable to stop herself. There was no one here to help her. But no one to watch and know what she did, either. “Antonio di Randolfo.”