Page 20 of The Bonventi Secret
"What do you think?" I ask, my voice low.
Livia turns to face me, he face giving away no emotion. "It's impressive," she admits grudgingly, "a bit much maybe."
I laugh, moving further into the room. "The bed," I say, pointing to the massive four-poster bed that dominates the center of the room, "is a 17th-century Venetian piece," I explain, running my hand along the intricately carved footboard. "The mattress, however, is very much modern. Memory foam. It's quite nice."
"Only one bed in here?" she asks.
I smirk. "Also, the headboard," which is a work of art in itself, "is hand-carved mahogany. It depicts scenes from?—"
"Dante's Inferno. Yes, I see that," she says, cutting me off.
I look at her and notice a twinkle of pride in her eye for the first time. She's proud of knowing that.
"Yes, of course. I suppose Victorian literature isn't the limit of your knowledge," I say with a smile.
She snaps her head at me. "It's Dante—who doesn't know Dante?"
"Most outside your academic circle," I say firmly. "It's always best to assume people don't know what you're talking about. This way, you never make the habit of talking down to them."
She stares at me for a moment, then looks away without speaking.
I turn around. "The sitting area may bring you some comfort. A book by the fire may be something you like, and here you can do that."
She turns and studies the area.
"Over here," I continue, leading her to a set of French doors, "is your private balcony. My favorite thing is to watch the sunsets from this very spot."
I glance at her and see a slight flush of color on her cheeks. She's trying so hard to maintain her composure, but I can see the cracks in her armor.
I open the doors, and a warm breeze carries the scent of roses into the room. Livia steps out onto the balcony, her hair lifting slightly in the wind. For a moment, I'm transfixed by the way the sunlight catches in her chestnut hair.
I shake my head and continue on.
"And this," I say, guiding her back inside and towards another door, "is your walk-in closet."
I push open the door, revealing a space almost as large as the bedroom itself. Rows of designer clothes, shoes, and accessories line the walls, and a massive vanity takes up the far left corner.
"I took the liberty of having some clothes, shoes, and other items brought in for you," I explain. "I was told your size, but ifanything doesn't fit or isn't to your taste, just let Marcella know. She'll take care of it."
"How thoughtful," she says acting unimpressed and full of sarcasm. "And here I thought I'd have to wear my own clothes that I brought."
I step closer to her, close enough to feel the warmth of her breath. "If that's what you want, but please look over what I've gotten for you," I say, my eyes locked on hers.
I can see the conflict in Livia's eyes, a mixture of things I can't decipher.
I step away, giving her space to process my words. I walk towards the en-suite bathroom, pushing open the door. "Come," I call over my shoulder. "Let me show you the rest."
The bathroom is marble with sparse gold touches throughout. I notice her eyes go right for the sunken tub, large enough for two, and then shift to the spacious rainfall shower enclosed in glass.
I point to the sink on the right. "This side is yours. Everything you need should be here," I say, opening the cupboard and drawers to reveal all the stocked products I had placed here for her.
I glance up and see Livia's reflection in the mirror that spans the entire length of the room as she takes it all in. "If there's anything missing, just ask, or again, let Marcella know."
I exit back into the main room, and after a few moments, Livia joins me.
She takes one more look around and then speaks.
"Again, there's only one bed? Where will you sleep?" she asks, her voice lined with a hint of defiance.
