"I
don't think so. The Virgin is often portrayed as light itself, so I think
that pale, luminescent blue you've achieved is perfect. I can't imagine
changing the shade."
He glanced at her then and saw that she had risen from her seat and now
stood directly behind him. Part of her hair was piled under a tiny green
cap and the rest flowed freely down her back. How he longed to rip the cap
from her head and watch the ebony curls cascade down around her shoulders!
His fingers were itching to do just that, so he kept them busy mixing the
paint that no longer needed to be mixed. Her lips shimmered as if she had
applied olive oil to them; it was a practice many women adhered to, including
his mother. What had seemed a natural part of his mother glimmered seductively
on Maddalena. Her cinnamon dappled brown eyes met his, and although she
had caught him staring, she did not say anything. She was the first to break
the contact, blushing furiously under his scrutiny.
The spell broken, Dominic finally answered her. "You are right. I have
already achieved the right blend." Rubbing the back of his neck with
a paint-stained hand, he added, "Maybe I will sit for awhile. My neck
is aching."
"I can imagine so, having to look up like that all day and stretching
to reach the right places on the wall." Returning to her seat on the
bench, she patted the spot next to her. "Come, sit with me. I brought
some cheese and bread for you to snack on."
Her thoughtfulness surprised him. "You did? Thank you, Maddalena. I
missed the first meal, then?" She smiled, and he noticed that even
her smile was restrained. What could change her so much in the space of
a day?
She nodded. "We ate over two hours ago. I have been watching you for
almost an hour."
"That long? It seems as if you just walked in." He was amazed
how quickly time slipped away from him when he was involved with the mural.
"That long. I know you forget about everything when you're working.
I understand."
He raised a brow in query, but she was not forthcoming. "Let's go outside
to eat. The fumes can overcome you after awhile." He held his hand
out to her, but she refused to take it.
"I know," she said, standing on her own. "I guess we could
eat in the gazebo. There are benches in there."
He didn't say anything, but gathered up the small basket loaded down with
at least four different types of cheese as well as bread and a container
of water.
Maddalena walked outside, her gown flowing about her legs like a billowy
sail on a ship. He knew well the shape of her calves as he had glimpsed
them that night on the terrace as well as a few times on the dance floor.
He had to stop tormenting himself. How could she remain so cool when the
flame in his heart burned blue with desire for her?
She climbed up the few steps to the gazebo and he followed. "Here,
sit that down on the floor," she said, motioning with her hand.
He obeyed her dictate, then sat down on the smooth white bench, sliding
closer to her as he did so. "Now that I am away from the painting,
I realize I am starving. You are too kind to remind me to eat."
"I can't have you fading away on me. Papa would not be pleased if you
couldn't finish the mural."
"How would you feel?"
She looked surprised by the question. "Me? I want you to finish it.
You are a brilliant artist, and I can't tell you how amazed Papa will be
when he sees that you've incorporated some of my features into the painting.
He will surely recommend you to all of his friends."
So, she had noticed after all. Luckily, she had come to the same conclusion
Ellania had at first. "Grazi. I was hoping he would. I know how much
you mean to your father, even if he doesn't treat you as he should."
She passed him a slice of bread and a hunk of a mellow white cheese he had
never had before. He took a bite, and after swallowing, asked, "What
is this?"
"The cheese? Oh, it is Muenster. One of Papa's favorites. I'm not sure
where he gets it from, but he always keeps a big round of it."
"It is good. Are you looking forward to the palio tomorrow?"
"I guess. Just a little worried about how Mamma will fare, especially
if someone gets hurt."
He noticed she was not eating. "Aren't you hungry? There is plenty
for us both."
"I ate earlier. I can't eat now or I won't be able to eat at dinner.
Mamma invited Ellania to dinner again."
"That's good, is it not? You must be bored with your father gone so
long."
"I grow tired of Ellania's endless chitchat after awhile, and we are
going to be with her all day tomorrow. Yet, she is anxious to get to know
you. I cannot deny her that."
He did not know what to say. Just yesterday Maddalena appeared about ready
to strike the other woman for her flirtations, and today she was calmly
discussing his becoming involved with Ellania. What had happened to change
her so in the space of one night? He couldn't stop his mind from returning
to its previous subject. Did she miss Giovanni that much, then?
"Does it bother you that she is after me? Just say so, Maddalena, and
I will let her be."
"Don't be fatuous, Dominic. You can get involved with whomever you
wish. But, if you are looking for a serious relationship, you might want
to look elsewhere. Ellania is married, and she does not intend to leave
her husband. No matter how old he is, it's Carlo's money that keeps her
home."
"I'm not looking for anything serious," he reassured her, adding
quietly, "not with Ellania."
"Well, I fail to see the problem then."
No, there obviously wasn't a problem. At least as far as Maddalena was concerned.
Suddenly Ellania wasn't as an attractive pursuit as she had been, not if
Maddalena did not care. He moved even closer to her, and when he placed
his arm along the back of the bench and leaned toward her, her curls brushed
against his cheek. They were as soft as silk and he fought the urge to run
his fingers through them.
She didn't move away, instead she turned toward him and said, "Dominic,
we cannot do this."
"What? We are just sitting here together."
"You are planning to kiss me. You must not."
"Let me, Maddalena. Just one kiss. And if you do not want more after
that kiss, I will let you go."
"No, not even one."
"Why? Because you are scared of me?"
"I am not scared!" she declared, her lips parting in frustration.
He made the most of the opportunity and kissed her. No more talking, no
more denials. He waited for her to push him away, but she didn't. She kissed
him back, even sliding her tiny tongue between his lips, which he suckled
and licked with abandon. He did not know how long they were entwined there
on the hard bench, out in the garden where anyone could see them. For once
his work was forgotten, completely forgotten. It wasn't until he brought
his hands up to cup her voluptuous breasts that she stopped him.
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