After a long while, he gently rolled me onto my back and placed a kiss on the tip of my nose. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat. Are you?”
Smiling, he said, “I can eat. Making love for hours should always be followed by a meal in bed.”
Tristan poured us champagne and lifted his glass to make a toast. I couldn’t help but smile. There I was in Venice, in a gorgeous hotel suite my fiancé owned, drinking champagne in bed. Was this really my life?
“What’s the smile for?”
“I just can’t believe this is my life. I mean, look at us. In bed drinking champagne. Do people really do this?”
He kissed me tenderly on the lips. “They do, and from now on, we do.”
When he said that, it seemed so natural. What was a girl to do with a man like this? “Then let’s toast to our life of champagne in bed.”
“I have a better toast. Here’s to us finally accepting the happiness we’ve been running away from for so long.”
Raising my glass, I met his with a clank. “And more time in bed.”
Tristan dangled a bunch of grapes just above my mouth. I craned my neck to grab one with my teeth but only ended up biting the air. Taking one grape off the vine, he held it between his teeth and smiled. “Do you remember that first night I fed you?”
Nodding, I said, “Yes. It was the most erotic thing I’d ever experienced.” Plucking the grape from his mouth, I popped it into my own. “I think it’s time I fed you.”
He swallowed the last of his champagne and leaned back against the headboard. “Mmmm, I like that.”
Climbing on top of him, I took the glass and grapes out of his hands. “Then this is perfect. I’ll be the last woman to do that for you.”
He gave me a devilish grin and looked up at me as I straddled his hips. “I really like that.”
I grabbed a chunk of pineapple and placed it on his tongue. “Here’s to us being the first and last of many things for each other.”
His face grew serious, and he stroked his thumb over my cheek. “I love you, Nina. Don’t ever doubt that, no matter how I screw things up. I love you.”
Leaning down, I kissed him lightly on the lips and slipped another grape into his mouth. “No more talk about messing up. We’re in Venice, in love, and in bed eating fruit and champagne. And when we get up tomorrow morning, I’m holding you to a promise you made the last time we were here. That means museums, Mr. Stone. It’s time you see Venice for what it really is.”
He smiled and I knew he remembered his promise. “It’s isn’t the Louvre, but it’s a deal. First, though, I have all night with you before we head out to the museums. I plan to make the most of it.”
***
Some problem at the hotel forced the concierge to interrupt us just as we planned to leave for our museum tour, and I was forced to wait in the suite for hours while Tristan cleared up the mess. Just when I believed we’d miss the chance yet again for me to show him the art wonders of Venice, he returned, ready to learn all about what he’d been missing in the art world.
As we walked hand-in-hand to the Piazza San Marco, I explained my plans for the rest of the day. “I first want to take you to Ca’ Rezzonico. There’s an entire floor dedicated to paintings that show what the city was like in the eighteenth century. Then we can visit the museum you found me at yesterday, Museo Civico Correr.”
“We can go wherever you want. I told you it’s about time I get some culture.”
Climbing the massive marble staircase to the first floor of Ca’ Rezzonico, I asked, “Did you know this was a palace before it became a museum?”
He shook his head and smiled. “No, I didn’t.”
“It was. In 1936 they opened it as a museum, but it was first built in the mid-1600s. Wait until you see the way they arranged it. The entire place looks like it would if it was still a palace. It’s really quite beautiful. Oh, and the Triumph of Zephyr and Flora…”
My words trailed off as I watched a man hurry away from the top of the stairs and through the first floor. I hadn’t assumed we were alone, but something about him seemed odd, as if he hadn’t wanted us to see him.
We reached the first floor and I couldn’t see him anywhere. Tristan squeezed my hand, and I turned to face him. “Nina, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I forced a smile, not wanting to ruin our museum tour. “It’s nothing. I thought I saw someone.”
“The man in front of us a second ago?” he asked as he looked left and right for the man.
“It’s nothing. It’s just that last time I was here—remember you were supposed to come with me and I had to go with that giant bodyguard instead? Well, I met a man here who said he knew my father. That man we just saw looked like him.”
Tristan took me by the shoulders and stared down into my eyes with an intense look that frightened me. “Nina, I need you to think about this. What did that man say to you?”
I hesitated for a moment and he repeated his question. I didn’t want to say what that man had told me and bring up all the terrible things from the past, but finally, I said, “He told me he thought it was a shame the people responsible for my father’s death were never charged.”
“And you think that man was the same person as the one who just nearly ran away when he saw us?”
I didn’t know. It could have been him. He did look similar to him, especially his tanned skin. I wasn’t sure, though. “You’re scaring me, Tristan. I don’t know if it’s the same man. It could be. I just don’t know.”
“I’m not trying to scare you, but I think we need to get out of here. Something’s wrong. I feel it.”
We hurried back down the stairs and out the museum doors. Tristan didn’t say anything, but I knew he was far more worried than he wanted me to believe. We walked along the Grand Canal for as long as we could with him looking behind us every few feet. Finally, I realized that we weren’t going back to the hotel.
“Where are we going? The hotel is back there.”
“Just keep walking,” Tristan said, his tone serious.
“What’s going on?”
He pulled me into a dark corner and shook his head. “I thought they had him. I thought we’d be safe. Nina, no matter what happens, I won’t let anything hurt you. Trust me.”
His words were meant to calm me, but I saw fear in his eyes. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”