The Italians: Rico, Antonio and Giovanni: The Hidden Heart of Rico Rossi / The Moretti Seduction / The Boselli Bride

She pushed the thought away. ‘Wow. That’s really bloodthirsty.’

‘I don’t think anyone actually chopped off anyone’s hand. The fear of what would happen was enough to make people tell the truth,’ Rico said. ‘The stone’s actually a Roman drain cover, and the face is thought to be that of the god Oceanus.’

‘It’s certainly imposing.’ And there was a queue of tourists posing for photographs, holding one hand through the Mouth of Truth.

‘It’s touristy, yes,’ he said, following her gaze, ‘but it’s a little less common than people doing the “Friends, Romans, countrymen” speech.’ He touched her cheek briefly with the backs of his fingers, as if to let her know that he hadn’t been criticising her—merely stating a fact. ‘Shall I take your picture?’

‘Yes, please.’ She joined the queue to have her photograph taken with the Mouth, and paid her donation.

‘Would you like me to take your picture?’ she asked when he’d taken the shot.

‘No need. I live here,’ he said with a smile.

For a moment, she thought he looked a bit shifty. But that was ridiculous. What possible reason would Rico have to lie to her? No. That was sheer paranoia, brought on by thinking about the men who’d let her down so badly in the past.

He took her for a quick peek at the Circus Maximus, the ancient chariot-racing stadium; then they caught the Metro to the Piazza del Popolo and climbed up the steps to the Borghese Park.

‘I can’t believe it’s so quiet here,’ she said as they wandered along the path. ‘All you can hear is birdsong—no noise from the traffic, no sirens blaring from the police cars or the ambulances.’

‘I come here whenever I need some peace,’ he said. ‘We could walk round, or we could take a riscio.’

‘What’s a riscio?’

He gestured to people passing them. ‘A pedal cart for four with a sunshade on top. They do two-seaters, as well.’

‘A side-by-side tandem, you mean?’

‘Something like that.’ He smiled. ‘We can see a bit more of the park, this way. And it’s fun.’

She wasn’t so sure about that five minutes later, when they were heading towards a roundabout and, however she turned the wheel of the riscio, she couldn’t get the pedal cart to change direction. The notice in the middle of the car warned about needing to brake downhill, and the risk of the cart toppling over. Where was the brake? Panic flooded through her.

‘The steering’s only connected on my side, bellezza,’ he told her, reaching out to squeeze her hand. ‘Turning your wheel won’t make any difference.’

Ella was practically hyperventilating. How could he be so calm? ‘There’s a road train over there and we’re going the wrong way round the roundabout!’

‘We drive on the right in Italy, so we go round the roundabout the opposite way to how you drive in England,’ he reminded her. ‘It’s fine. We’ll give way to the road train. There’s nothing to worry about. Just sit back and enjoy it.’

‘Enjoy …?’ she asked wryly, beginning to wish they’d just walked.

‘Ella, trust me.’

Ha. He’d unconsciously zeroed in on the one thing she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to do again. Trust someone.

‘I won’t let you get hurt,’ he said, gently touching her cheek with the backs of his fingers. ‘I promise. And I never break my promises.’

She didn’t know him well enough to know whether he was spinning her a line. But she’d go with it, for now.

Once they were round the roundabout and she got used to the way the cart moved, she found that she actually was enjoying it. Just as Rico had promised, they could see more of the park this way; and they could stop wherever they liked to take a closer look at a fountain or a sculpture.

By the time their hour was up, Ella was relaxed and had even agreed to swap places with Rico and steer the riscio herself.

‘Not so bad, was it?’ he asked, sliding his arm round her shoulders.

‘No, it was fun, once I’d got used to it,’ she admitted, putting her arm round his waist.

They walked back past a bunch of teenagers on rollerblades negotiating a line of tiny, tiny cones. Ella was amazed at how they skated in and out without knocking any of them over, their feet crossing each other, and yet they didn’t trip or fall.

The fascination must have shown on her face, because Rico said, ‘Dare you.’

‘Me? But I …’ She hadn’t been on roller skates for years, let alone rollerblades.

‘Dare you,’ he repeated.

Well, these few days were all meant to be about having fun. ‘You’re on.’ It was hard enough to skate in a straight line at first, and she knew there was no way she’d be able to negotiate that double slalom of cones. But then the man in charge of the cones took pity on her and gave her a wider-spaced course.

‘Wow, I actually did it!’ she said at the other end.

‘You were magnificent,’ Rico said, kissing her.

‘And now it’s your turn.’

‘Mine?’ He looked surprised.

‘You challenged me. Now prove that you can do it.’

The expression in his eyes grew heated. ‘What are the stakes?’

She shrugged. ‘You tell me.’

He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, ‘If I do it without knocking over a cone, you let me do whatever I want to you tonight. If I fail, I’m completely in your hands.’

She shivered with pleasure. ‘That sounds good to me.’

He licked his lower lip. ‘Right now, I’m not really sure whether it would be more fun to win or to lose.’

‘Do it properly,’ she told him. ‘I don’t like lying and game-playing.’

‘OK, Ella bellezza.’ He kissed her swiftly, then put on the rollerblades.

She wasn’t surprised that he managed to skate the same course that she did with relative ease. The man in charge of the cones winked at her and set up a more demanding course with a double slalom.

Rico spread his hands, grinned—and then showed off thoroughly. He was as graceful as a ballet dancer as he moved through the slalom course, his body all clean, flowing lines; Ella was aware of how many other women in the gathering crowd were giving him admiring looks.

He almost knocked over the very last cone, which teetered but stayed where it was. He skated round to Ella, then swept into a deep bow before taking her hand, turning it over and kissing the throbbing pulse in her wrist. Desire skittered through her.

‘You’ve done that before, haven’t you?’ she asked, not wanting him to see how much of an effect he had on her.

‘Now and then. Though I’m a bit out of practice.’ He took off his skates and handed them back. ‘Come on. Let’s go and chill out.’