Hearts at the Holy See Read online

  There was something about Amalie, though. He could dream all night based on the little attention she’d given him, so far.

  Zia Silvana grabbed his arm and jerked him to look at Casey. Her blonde hair picked up the candle glow like silk, and her eyes sparkled with the fun of her three-way conversation with Leo and Leo’s mother.

  Giovanni sank back into his chair, shaking his head and marveling at his aunt, before he turned to study Amalie’s profile. She hadn’t asked what he’d heard about her, which surprised him. Most women, even the least vain, would be curious. But this woman had let his remark pass as if it meant nothing.

  It meant plenty to Giovanni. “Amalie had a really bad breakup,” Casey had told them on her last visit to Italy—the first time she and Giovanni had met. “You can’t imagine what it took for me to convince her to agree to come. You’d think someone who spends so much time in church would jump at a chance at the Vatican, but she acted as if she couldn’t believe she was worthy.”

  Interesting. Why would someone not deserve it?

  Now, Amalie sighed and he touched her arm. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Exhausted, but I’m fine.” She smiled, and once again, he saw that enticing spark of joy light up her face. Maybe she’d done some healing all on her own, and now Rome and Giovanni could help finish off the cure.

  “I could walk you to your hotel if Casey’s not ready to go.”

  “Oh, no, that’s fine. I’ll wait for her.” She looked down at her hands, and then across the table.

  Good one, Jovi. She’s an intelligent woman. A hesitant woman according to her cousin. She’s probably studied all kinds of crime and how to travel safely. Now she thinks you’re a predator. You need to remember she’s just met you. He, on the other hand, had met her years ago, in some dream, and now he’d come home to her.

  He had never believed in love at first sight.

  Joke’s on Jovi. He laughed to himself then had to scramble to come up with an explanation when the girl from his dreams turned with a question in her eyes.

  “Someone will have to lead you by the hand,” he said. “You’re practically asleep right now.” He waved to get Leo’s attention, and within seconds, Leo got the gist and got to his feet.

  “Jovi and I will walk you to the hotel.”

  Amalie didn’t seem to mind that time. Did Leo make her feel safer, or was it simply the numbers?

  They walked slowly, an amble through streets teeming with the people, scents, and sounds that were Giovanni’s second home.

  Casey, leaning on Leo’s arm, tapped Amalie on the shoulder. “This was worth it, wasn’t it?”

  Amalie raised her chin. “Absolutely.”

  Did Giovanni hear a hint of a warning in her tone? Frowning, he glanced back at Casey then at Amalie.

  “Rome is a good place to forget the past,” Casey said.

  Amalie’s eyes went from sparking joy to shooting fire-breathing bullets. Definitely her cousin had touched on a difficult topic. But rather than flare up, she sent her brilliant smile to Giovanni. “Do the Swiss Guard patrol outside of Vatican City?”

  “Not usually.” Giovanni tucked a hand in his pocket, wondering. She’d changed the subject so suddenly—and so startlingly—that he could barely catch up. Certainly, he couldn’t follow her agenda.

  “Because that never came up in my research. I mean, I read about their uniforms, of course, and the requirements.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard about that,” Casey said. She muttered something else. Giovanni thought it sounded like, “Too much,” but he wasn’t sure.

  “And that they’re much more military now than they used to be—”

  “OK.” Casey growled the word as if giving up in an argument. “I won’t mention anything else. Just give it a break.”

  Amalie shrugged, but a hint of that smile tugged at her dimples, and then they arrived at the hotel.

  Casey and Leo said a rather more restrained good-bye than Giovanni had expected, and the two men watched the women disappear inside.

  “She’s cute, right?”

  “Both of them,” Giovanni agreed.

  “Hey! Hands off Casey.”

  “No fear.”

  They walked a while and had nearly reached Leo’s apartment, where Giovanni was bunking, before Leo asked, “You like her? Amalie, I mean?”

  Giovanni smiled into the neon-lit darkness. “I think I do.”

  “Good. It’ll make things a lot easier.”

  Giovanni didn’t ask how. He could imagine. And really, he’d rather imagine the next two weeks, where he and Amalie were thrown together by Leo and Casey and their relationship. Yeah, that was all he wanted to imagine. He was glad Leo wanted to marry a nice girl like Casey. Other than that, he wanted to forget that Leo and Casey would be a part of the next two weeks at all.

  2

  Sleeping in had sounded wonderful the night before, but Amalie woke early to the sound of birds and traffic. Something tickled the back of her mind, and she lay for a while, staring at the shadows shifting on the wall, reliving the day before.

  First, the airport, the long waits, the flight, customs. Nothing special there.

  Then checking into the hotel, following Casey as she wound her way through an Italy she’d come to know so well, taking Amalie to the man who’d captured Casey’s heart.

  And then, inside the restaurant—really, Amalie ought to concentrate on the gorgeous food rather than the gorgeous men. Or concentrate on the feel of stepping into a world of a hundred years gone by, yet still real and true, rather than a romance so far beyond her reach. She should not think about Giovanni.

  But she already had.

  Rather than indulge that, she hustled to the shower, shooed Giovanni out of her thoughts once again, dressed, chased Giovanni away from her mind a third time, and set about dressing for her first full day in Vatican City.

  Casey had e-mailed their itinerary. Amalie pulled it up on her phone. They were scheduled to visit the Sistine Chapel, followed by lunch, followed by an afternoon at the basilica. Most of the buildings in Vatican City closed in the evening. No nightlife, which Amalie thought only fitting, and since the country had few restaurants open to the public, it made sense.

  After Casey woke, Amalie grabbed a multicolored, floppy hat to smash onto her head. With her skin, she rarely went outside without something to protect her. “We don’t want to be late meeting Jovi.”

  “Don’t call him that.”

  “Why not?” Amalie made sure she had her key card in her pocket. “That’s what his family called him. I heard Leo say it, too.”

  “That’s family. Anyway, Giovanni is so much more—” Casey stopped and sighed.

  “Ro-man-tic.” Amalie drawled the word out to a ridiculous length.

  Casey snorted. “I was thinking it’s more Italian.”

  Amalie nodded as though she believed Casey’s protest. “What’s Leo’s full name?”

  “Leonardo, of course.”

  “That’s pretty romantic, too.”

  “Isn’t it?” Casey pressed a hand to her heart then patted her purse. “I’ve got my sunglasses, camera, and money. Anything else I need?”

  “You don’t need your camera for the Sistine Chapel,” she said, dredging up more research. “No pictures allowed there, remember?”

  “Yes, you’ve already told me.” Casey’s lips pursed before she went on. “But there’s lunch, and the whole afternoon in the basilica. Let’s get some breakfast and then meet our oh-so-handsome guides.”

  Amalie had to practically beat the image of Giovanni out of her mind that time. But maybe meeting him again would help. That way, she could prove to herself that she wasn’t attracted to the man at all, and she could enjoy the rest of her visit in peace. She had to swallow her giggles the whole way down the stairs.

  They hurried to the dining room and chose a table near the windows, but the lure of Vatican City was too much for both of them. They didn’t give a lick of justice to th
e sumptuous spread but gathered their things and left as soon as they were both satisfied.

  Chattering, the cousins left the cafe and made their way along Via Borgo Santo Spirito to the border of Vatican City and the entrance to the square.

  “I don’t see them.” Amalie held her hat on her head while she searched the wide, paved space between the entrance and the obelisk. Behind her, huge buildings that looked like simple apartments nearly ringed them in. She turned in a circle, unsure if she’d be able to spot Giovanni out of the hundreds of dark haired men crowding the square, and daring her heart to do just that. Daring it to prove she wasn’t falling in love again…quickly. Irrationally. Love at first sight was a myth. Her previous experience proved it. She’d spun head-over-heels. Alex had trampled her fallen heart.

  “Leo’s right there.”

  Amalie nodded and pretended she’d just missed him, not that she’d been searching for his cousin and didn’t care if Leo showed up or not.

  “He’s not bad looking, is he?” Casey shot her an appraising glance.

  On a sigh, Amalie said, “Oh, yes, actually, Leo is quite gorgeous.” And it ran in the family, obviously.

  “Amazing. And sweet, too. In fact—” Casey stopped as Leo sprinted up to meet them.

  “Giovanni’s running late,” he said, his accent more of a flavor to his words than an obstruction of sounds. “Might not make it this morning. He got a call from California, something to do with his business, and he had to stay behind. But I can handle everything, you know. It’s my city.”

  “I’m sure you can.” Casey lifted her camera and got a few photos of the obelisk behind him. He pretended he thought she only wanted pictures of him—which she probably did—and kept mugging to get in the shot. But even Casey got tired of the game soon enough and put her camera away.

  Amalie shoved her hands in her jeans pockets. “OK, so, are we supposed to wait for him? And for how long?”

  “Patience, my child.” Casey slipped her hand through Leo’s arm. “Leo can take us to the chapel, can’t he?” She favored him with a flirty look.

  “Of course I can,” he stammered. “Giovanni has his own tickets, but I brought everything we need.” He patted his shirt pocket.

  “Excellent.” Casey held out her arm. “Let’s go.”

  “Maybe we should each have our own. You know. In case we get separated.” Because Amalie knew Casey, and better than that, she knew Casey bent on getting to know a man.

  She ignored her cousin’s expression, which said Amalie was being overly controlling, and took the tickets for the day from Leo. After Casey tucked her arm in his, they set off.

  Amalie lagged behind, staring up at the incredible buildings that housed so many treasures—buildings that were treasures in themselves. Her heart rate picked up—she was here! Here, in the Holy City. She didn’t believe geography or objects could bring her closer to God in and of themselves, but they certainly could point the way. With so many reminders around her, surely, she’d find some inspiration, some focus, some peace. She hadn’t discerned God’s plan for her yet, at least as far as relationships went. That was what made this trip so important. Just in the last few weeks, she’d gotten the feeling that maybe—just maybe—God wanted her to trust Him as she headed into another relationship. Giovanni’s face swam up in her mind, but she brushed it away.

  “Come on, slow poke. You’re the one who insisted we see the chapel first.”

  Amalie had suggested it, sure. All she’d insisted on was attending Mass, with the Pope, if possible. She hurried up the steps leading to the Sistine Chapel. The whole area—the vast courtyard, the tourists dressed much more modestly, by request of the Vatican, than usual in a warm place like Italy, the very bricks, everything seemed to exude a luster of holiness, even without the mystical aura of an illuminated manuscript she’d sensed the night before.

  The Swiss Guard in their bright striped uniforms and black tams, were from another era. The double staircase under the arched ceiling was magnificent enough to keep Amalie entranced the whole half day they had scheduled, but the promise of better to come kept her going.

  Open-mouthed, she walked through the doors, turning in circles. She stared at the multitude of images—at the visible signs of man’s love for his God, his celebration of God’s blessings and care for him. How could anyone not be moved at least to consider God’s existence—His intimate loving-kindness for His people—on seeing the response His love evoked?

  At the top of the steps, Amalie, along with nearly everyone else in the huge space, stared upward. The sheer grandeur of the place overwhelmed her, and again, she turned in one spot, trying to drink in as much as possible, but she couldn’t keep her focus on just one piece of art. Her attention shuffled to the next beautiful, golden bit. She’d researched the Vatican online for years, and owned many books full of photos, but neither web pictures nor printed paper could compare to reality. Somehow, she had to find a way to keep this majesty with her. She scrabbled for her notebook in her purse but the strap slipped through her fingers and she dropped it. A brown hand snatched it up but before she could scream, the hand swung it toward her.

  “I’m glad I caught up with you. It’s not so safe to drop your valuables like that.” Giovanni gave her the purse before he shoved his hands in his pockets.

  She took it and pulled the strap over her shoulder, shaking, both with fright and an awareness of the man who seemed sharp enough to cut through her resolve.

  Giovanni shook his head. “Not like that.” He motioned with his hands toward her purse. “You’d be better off putting it over your shoulder and under your jacket. You know, let the long strap cross your—your chest.”

  Surprised, she took it off again and did as he suggested, resolved to ignore his stammer. “Good idea.” Once she’d slipped into her short-sleeved jacket again, she said, “I thought you weren’t coming today.”

  “No, just late.” He craned his neck. “It’s indescribable, isn’t it?”

  “It is. I was going to try—” At his raised eyebrow, she attempted to finish. “I was looking for my notebook. I wanted to get it all down while I’m here. The words, the feelings.”

  He raised his other brow, and she faltered.

  “In my journal.”

  “Ah.” He went on smiling for a moment. Then he motioned toward her purse. “If I hold your purse, you can dig in it.” He reached for her bag.

  “You don’t mind?”

  He shrugged. “Look, I get the Italian culture. I have to. Most of my family makes sure I do. But I grew up in enlightened L.A.” He grinned, a hint of irony in his voice. “I’ve known guys who carry their own purses. They can be a lot more convenient than a briefcase. It’s no big deal.”

  “Thanks.” With his help, she had her tablet out in seconds, and the purse secure back under her jacket. She balanced the tablet on her palm. Struggling to get her feelings packed into a few words, she forgot where she was or who was waiting for her. But when she looked up, Giovanni was still standing by her.

  “You done?” He smiled. “Our cousins went through to the next room. Have you seen enough here?”

  “Does one ever see enough?”

  He raised one shoulder. “The cup gets full, you know? You have to sit back and let it become a part of you, of your soul, let yourself absorb it, before you try to cram anything more in.” He gestured, his hands seeming to encompass the whole of the chapel. “That’s why I come here almost every time I visit. I need to see it again, and I always see something new. Or something I forgot.”

  “I was just thinking the same—” Appalled, Amalie closed her mouth. She’d come just shy of flirting with the man, and she was in no position to do so. Not in the right place, to be honest—physically or emotionally. Remember Alex, she ordered herself, but it seemed her heart had already chosen to forget him.

  And this was another reason why she needed to get the atmosphere down in words, so she could process it later and wring every drop of joy from i
t she could. Because she’d be one of the many who came, reviewed, and never went back. She didn’t have Giovanni’s luxury.

  She refused to imagine how often his future wife would come here with him. Refused. Absolutely refused.

  She had to pay attention. She was in the Sistine Chapel, and they only had tickets for one more afternoon.

  Looking over the heads of the crowd—he was much taller than many around—Giovanni gestured toward the top of the stairs. “Look. There they are.”

  Casey still had her arm curled in Leo’s, and she turned away just as Giovanni gestured toward them. She looked into Leo’s eyes as if they were alone in the room, and he was Casey’s entire world.

  Amalie’s feet stopped moving, almost without her permission. How on earth could she get over this confusion—this should I, should I not—tug at her heart and reason? She’d come all this way to get closer to God, but He didn’t seem all that interested in making it easy for her.

  Giovanni poked Amalie’s arm. “Didn’t you know about them?”

  His touch startled her into walking again. “Of course. But they haven’t known each other that long.” The words came out much more harshly than she’d planned.

  “Yeah, I’m kind of in shock myself.”

  “Why? Do you think they’re wrong for each other?”

  He turned, frowning. “Not at all. They’re perfect for each other. But every relationship needs a lot of work, and long distance doesn’t help.”

  On a deep breath, Amalie nodded. “I worry about her.”

  “I’m sure you do. She returns the favor, you know.” Now, Giovanni squinted at the bright works of art overhead.

  What on earth had her cousin told him? Casey had agonized right along with Amalie after Alex dumped her, but had Casey shared Amalie’s story with a stranger? Then again, maybe it wasn’t a bad thing if he knew a bit of her history and knew she was dump-worthy. That way, humiliation could do the rest of the work to keep her from falling in love. Again. Having been dumped once tended to set a not-worth-it vibe out to most guys.