CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Saturday, June 17
Rome
Hank held Stazi’s hand tightly as they walked down the Via della Conciliazione toward La Veranda restaurant. They hadn’t picked up a tail since they’d arrived in Rome and he didn’t expect to on their last day in the city. Ten days had flown past in a blur of sightseeing, amazing food, and incredible sex.
Stazi had worked for a couple of days with a few people on the European committee in charge of the Modigliani project, but other than that, they had enjoyed the hell out of themselves. Being almost exclusively in her company for nearly two weeks was better than he imagined and he prayed the closeness that they’d created was just the beginning.
One thing he’d happily discovered on their trip was that their temperaments worked perfectly together. Whatever he was uptight about, she wasn’t and vice versa. They had moved through the city without so much as one argument, and he had a feeling that it wasn’t all due to the fact that they were on vacation.
Certainly having sex several times a day didn’t hurt either of their moods, or eating incredible food…but he knew that even when they eventually faced the big stuff, they were going to be okay. His confidence was based on the fact that she let him lead when it was important to him and he tried to do the same with her. They never had one petty argument over some bullshit power play.
What he saw with Stazi was what he got. She wasn’t into playing games and if she had something to say, she did so plainly and without rancor. Smiling to himself, he thought about what she said last night and prayed she’d say it again when they got back to the hotel room. Turned out she was curious about some things and had sweetly requested he go along with her ideas.
One didn’t turn out at all and they ended up laughing as they fell off the bed. The other, though…that one really turned out. And would be added to their regular rotation. Which was not what he needed to be thinking about as they walked down a busy thoroughfare. “Are you hungry, Staz?”
“Absolutely. I’ve been thinking about this meal since we woke up. That’s why I didn’t eat much for breakfast.” Taking her hand away, she then twisted her hair up. “I’m glad we’re going on the private Vatican tour because it’s too hot to be standing in the chapel with a mass of humanity.” Stepping close to the wall of a building, she dug through her purse. “I hope I have a rubber band or a clip.”
Standing at an angle, he shielded her from the pedestrian traffic. He was big and apparently intimidating enough that people walked around without jostling them. When Stazi lifted her hair and secured it with a clip, he noticed the small trail of love bites he’d left on her neck. Running his finger over them, he felt a bit of satisfaction flow through his body.
Was he a philistine?
Absolutely.
Did it bother him?
Absolutely not.
Tipping her head, she looked up and smiled. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” He leaned down and gave her a quick peck. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Looking down the street, she pointed to the restaurant. “There it is. The restaurant occupies the left wing of the Palazzo della Rovere.”
“Lead the way,” he replied as he took her hand.
“I made sure our reservation is for a table inside because I want you to see the fifteenth-century Pinturicchio frescoes.”
“Wouldn’t want to miss those.” He felt her pinch his side as she let out a laugh.
“I know that I’ve almost drowned you in art talk since we’ve gotten here. I promise to give you a break the minute we get on the plane.”
Tightening his hold, he gave her a smile. “I hope you don’t because I’m enjoying becoming a cultured man.”
“You didn’t need my help because you already were.” They walked into the restaurant and Stazi briefly spoke with the hostess. “The construction of the building began in 1480. Isn’t it amazing to see it still standing today?”
“Was it originally a home?”
“A palace,” Stazi replied as they were led through the restaurant toward their table. They were seated inside the main loggia at a table next to the window. “Wow, this is a great table.”
Hank waited until she was seated and then took his own chair. They had a view of the garden and a nice breeze floated through the open windows, despite the heavy green velvet curtains. “What should we have?”
“Everything?” Stazi replied. Running her finger down the menu, she let out a sigh. “You might as well prepare yourself…”
“For what?” Hank asked cautiously.
“I’m going to be making nothing but Italian food for a couple of months.” Tilting her head, she gave him a small smile. “I’m also going to say how much I miss Italy a few thousand times.”
“I guess we’re coming back at Christmas then. We’ll celebrate Christmas and Hanukkah in your favorite city.”
“Don’t you want to be home with your family celebrating?”
“They don’t expect me at the holidays because I’ve missed most of them since I left for college. I was deployed for ninety percent of them when I was with the Navy, so I figure we get to start fresh and make our own.” When he saw her mouth hang open a little in shock, he decided to ignore it. In his heart, he knew they were together for good. How that was going to turn into a formal arrangement was yet to be seen. “How do we celebrate Hanukkah?”
Before she could answer the waitress came by and asked them what they wanted to drink, so Stazi ordered a beer for him and a glass of wine for herself. They still had a three-hour tour of the Vatican museum ahead of them so a bottle of wine was probably out. “I know candles are lit, but what else do we do?”
Moving her water glass, she kept her eyes down. “What are we doing, Hank?”
Taking her hand, he waited until she looked at him. “We are creating a union that eventually will be a fusion of our tastes and temperaments. A wide mosaic that holds our old selves as well as the hybrid of who we’re about to become. This is it, Staz.” He watched a single tear slip down her face and leaned forward. “I want the magical happy ending where we love each other madly and drop dead at the exact same moment. I have no interest in remaining on this earth without you.”
Another tear slipped down her face and she nodded. “I’m working hard on not allowing my fears to make me crazy and incapable of taking a single step toward that which I most desire. It’s going to take me a minute, but I promise I’ll get there.”
“We have all the time in the world.”
The waitress reappeared with their drinks and Stazi lifted her glass of wine. “I propose a toast to having the courage to put our hearts into the hands of someone who is ultimately unknowable and having faith that it will turn out beautifully.”
Leaning forward, he gave her a kiss along with a silent promise that he would do his best to make sure her heart was happy and full. “What is the Italian word for courage?”
“Corragio.”
“When we get home, I’m going to have it engraved next to the date on the third band of your necklace.”
“Perfect.”
As he picked up his menu and he began to read it, he realized the trip had ended up accomplishing more than he’d ever hoped for. They were attached and there was nothing that was ever going to come between them. “What should we have?”
“I’m going to start with the red prawn tartare with burrata cheese and citrus fruit salsa. Then I’ll have the spaghetti alla chitarra alla carbonara, and for my entrée, I’ll try the lamb chops with the almond crust and cumin-glazed carrots.”
Looking over his menu, he gave her a wink. “Okay, then I’ll start with the beef carpaccio. Then I’ll try the spelt fettuccine with pecorino and baked tomato sauce and finally the sole a la meunière and ginger salad.”
“We did it, Hank. It’s perfect.” The waitress came by and Stazi ordered their food.
Something that had started back in Chicago had become an art form here in Italy. From the moment they’d started sharing meals, they had ordered opposite things and then ate from one another’s plates. It was a small intimacy of their relationship that he was enjoying the hell out of. Not only did it give him a chance to try new things, it allowed him to see what Stazi enjoyed. Which was intel he could always use. Speaking of intel, he looked around the room and noticed the frescoes on the walls. “Okay, give me a ten-minute art lesson while we wait for our appetizers.”
“Might take me twelve, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Hit me, honey, and give me the download.”
“The palazzo was built by Domenico della Rovere, who was the Cardinal of St. Clement. He had a lot of money and a ton of influence because it was during the time that the popes ran the country. He had access to all the best artists of the moment and he let them loose. The place was frescoed by Pinturicchio and it’s believed that Charles VIII liked it so much that he preferred to stay here as opposed to the Vatican when he was continuing his military expeditions to the south of Italy.
“When the Cardinal died, it was left to the church, got passed through several hands through the centuries, and has been a hotel since the fifties. The frescoed walls are charming and have a ton of decorative elements. If you look carefully, you’ll see fake seats, dogs, and open music books, and underneath the large windows, there are pictures of bookshelves, fruit boxes, and vases of roses. I’m told there are biblical references as well as an allegory of peace represented by the olive branches.”
Their appetizers were delivered. Stazi let out a breath and gave him a smile. “How was that?”
“Less than ten minutes.”
“Good thing I talk fast.”
Handing her a fork, he winked. “Eat and enjoy your meal. The real test will come when we walk into the Sistine Chapel.”
***
Stazi walked slowly along the Borgo Santo Spirito, looked out to the Piazza San Pietro, and smiled at the children in line at the gelato truck. “If I wasn’t about to burst, I’d suggest a gelato.”
Hank gave her a smile and then shook his head. “Honey, ten minutes ago you made me swear that I wouldn’t let you eat anything else until tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah…that’s right.” Shrugging, she gazed at the Basilica di San Pietro. “We’ll be on a plane all day tomorrow, so it shouldn’t be hard.”
“Back to reality…are you ready?”
“Not really. I wonder what Ivan the Terrible has been doing with all his free time?”
“According to Lucky, he stops by your place once a day and looks around. It’s surprising that Sergey or Firtash haven’t made more of an effort to track you down. Not that they would have any success, but still.”
“I’m surprised they’re not all over you like a cheap suit. I’d think they would’ve figured out who you were and been crawling all over SAI trying to figure out what we’re up to.”
“Oh, they know my name because all they had to do was run the plates on my SUV. My face is on the company website, along with a short bio. It’s all innocuous information and tells very little about me or anyone else who works for the company.”
“If I googled your name, what would I find?”
“The picture from my high school yearbook and my picture from the Naval Academy.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes. I don’t believe in social media and my career with the Navy is classified, so all anyone will see is the supergeek that I was when I was eighteen.”
“I bet you were a hot and sexy supergeek.”
Letting out a snort, he gave her a get real look. “No, I was just a regular geek.”
“So, when we go back, it’s going to be more of the same, right?”
“Sergey Belikov is about to make a play and it somehow involves Firtash. What that will ultimately mean is yet to be seen. As far as Lucky can tell, all Firtash is doing is spending a lot of quality time with his lawyers. Maybe the Feds are getting closer to indicting him or the Spanish government is closing in. Whatever it is, it’s keeping him close to his house.”
“Are the audio discs still working?”
“Lucky told me this morning that at least five are still operating. Your name hasn’t come up, so we don’t know what his next move is going to be.”
“Guess we’re going to find out soon enough when we get home.” The weight returned to her shoulders and she tried not let it overwhelm her. All she could do was live her life and pray that Hank kept the worst of it away while Lucky figured out exactly why a couple of Russian mobsters were interested in her.
Looking into the fading light, she prayed whatever it was that was out there would resolve itself soon. “Ready to see the Sistine Chapel?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
***
Stazi and Hank stood next to a private entrance and waited for the guide to check everyone in. Stazi had arranged for them to be a part of a small VIP tour of the Vatican museums. They had three hours and got to skip the lines completely. They were going to be able to see the hidden corridors and some secret Vatican rooms like the Niccoline Chapel, the Apollo Belvedere statue, and perhaps the Gallery of the Candelabra. They also were going to have a private tour of the Sistine Chapel after the doors were closed to the public. Normally, there was no speaking inside the chapel, but the guide was going to be able to give his commentary.
“So, what are we seeing?” Hank asked as he looked around.
“It changes each time, based on the availability of the secret rooms. We’ll probably see the Bramante Staircase and possibly the Sala Degli Ori, which is the gold room. It’s home to some impressive papal jewelry and precious Etruscan jewels. If we get to see the Niccoline Chapel, then you’ll get to see the gold that was brought back from the travels of Christopher Columbus.”
“How long do we have in the chapel?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“Guess we need to look fast and soak in as much as we can.”
“Not having a horde of people around is going to allow us to enjoy the sacred space without people shoving their elbows into us.”
“Honey, I’ve never had an elbow shoved into me. People tend to keep their distance and that’s something you can enjoy as well from here on out.”
Holding his arm, she looked up into his eyes and smiled. “There are a lot of things to enjoy about you and a lack of pointy elbows is the least of them.” The sexy smile he bestowed on her made a shiver run down her back despite the heat.
“Are you talking sexy before we walk into church?” he asked.
“I might be.”
He ran his hand over her shoulder and under the strap of her sundress and grinned. “Hurry up, then, and get to the good stuff before we walk inside.”
“I think I’ll just save it until we’re back in the hotel. That way I can show you. I know you prefer actions over words, so it’s best that I just wait.” A low growl was all she heard in response. Patting his arm, she saw their guide motion that it was time to go in. “Ready to get your art on?”
“Sure, honey. Give me a minute and I’ll scrub my mind of all the dirty ideas that I have for you. No need to walk into the Vatican with the pictures I’ve got rolling around in my head.”
“Probably a good idea.” Adopting a prim posture, she tried to do the same. Not that God wouldn’t understand. After all, he’d made the beautiful man standing next to her, and probably wanted her to appreciate him.
And appreciate him, she did.
***
Feeling the last of his release wash into Stazi’s body, Hank let out a groan. “Whatever you did to me, promise you’ll do it again in another twenty minutes.”
“I’m wiped out,” Stazi responded as her hand slid across his soaked chest. Her head fell against his heart and she went limp.
“Rome was good to us.”
“Sure was,” Stazi mumbled. She rolled off and lay on her back with her arms flung wide. “When I looked at ‘The Last Judgment,’ I saw it in a whole new light.”
“What do you mean, honey?”
“Of the three hundred figures in the painting, half of them looked like you.”
“The naked ones or those that were draped in cloth?”
“The naked ones. When I first saw you at the beach, I thought you looked like the Trojan warriors that adorn Vatican City, but I was wrong. You are pure Michelangelo. You could have been a model for all those muscled men that adorn the masterpiece.”
He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss against her skin. “Are you saying that you spent the precious thirty minutes we were allowed in the Sistine Chapel looking at the naked figures?”
“Don’t judge me. I know all about the depiction of the second coming of Christ and the final eternal judgment by God and all of humanity. I noted the souls of humans rising and descending to their fates. Trust me, I didn’t miss it. I simply took a moment to appreciate that the drapery painted to satisfy an uptight pope had been removed during the restoration. It was strictly professional interest that made me study the many nude male angels.”
Letting out a laugh that could be heard on the other side of the garden, Hank had never enjoyed a rationalization more. “And during your professional perusal, you noted that they looked like me?”
“Yes, I did.” Rolling to her side, she gave him a smile. “But you have a lot more going on”—lifting a finger, she pointed to his groin— “down there. Either you’re really well-endowed or Michelangelo didn’t feel that part of the anatomy needed to be fully represented.”
“We are now talking about the size of my cock as it compares to the cocks of angels in a world-famous painting?”
“Technically it’s a fresco, which is a technique of mural painting that is executed upon freshly laid plaster. Water is used as the vehicle for the pigment to merge with the plaster. The painting becomes an integral part of the wall.”
“Well, I’m glad that we have that cleared up.”
“If it makes you feel better, I thought you looked more like the angels that ascended to the left as opposed to the ones that descended to the right. You were definitely part of the newly saved.”
“Guess I can’t ask for more than that.”
“The work was controversial from the moment it was unveiled, both for the amount of nudity and the muscular style of the bodies.”
“Which is why you were looking at the naked angels and thinking they looked like me?”
Sitting up, she rested her hand on his chest. “Absolutely.” Climbing back over him, she made sure she was exactly in the right position. “There is a fallen angel in my bed and I think it’s time I took advantage of the situation.”
Moving his hips, he gave one long thrust so that he was buried tightly in her body. “I thought you said I was one that got to ascend to heaven.”
Rocking back and forth, she smiled. “Sure, honey.”
He wrapped his arms around her, flipped them over, and lifted her leg in one motion. “Let me show you what heaven looks like.”
“Please do.”
Moving in long, powerful strokes, he allowed them both to have a glimpse of the divine.