Seduced by Innocence Read Online Free Page A

many of them these days because most of the people who take gondolas are tourists who want to look around them. But at one time the feltz was very useful for concealing lovers.”
    To Terri’s annoyance, she felt herself growing warm from head to toe. It was ridiculous that the mere mention of lovers from this vibrantly physical man had the power to make her self-conscious. Horrified, she wondered if she was actually blushing, and drew back, trying to seem indifferent.
    She found a goblet in front of her, full of a pale, cold liquid. “I took the liberty of ordering your first drink,” Maurizio said. “It’s a specialty of the Hotel Midas, and only my head barman knows how it’s made. He won’t even tell me.”
    It was delicious. As she sipped, she glanced around at what she could see of the hotel. Everywhere, the theme of gold was repeated, but discreetly, and with fine taste. The fittings on the glass doors and tables were gold, as was the decoration on the exquisite crystal goblets. Maurizio caught her glance and understood it. “The hotel takes its name from the legendary King Midas, whose story I dare say you know,” he said.
    “He asked the gods to let everything he touched turn to gold,” Terri remembered. “And they granted his wish. He was delighted until he touched his beloved daughter and she, too, turned to gold—beautiful but lifeless. He found himself living in luxury, but without love.” She looked again at her surroundings. “Luxury but no love,” she echoed. “Is that true?”
    “Of the hotel? I imagine it’s true of every place where people attach too much importance to money. Those who come to the casino have their minds fixed on gold and little else.” Maurizio shrugged. “Only they can say whether the price they pay is worth it.”
    The waiter arrived. Terri left the ordering to Maurizio. When they were alone again, he took out the forty-thousand-lire note with which she’d tipped him earlier and pushed it toward her. “I can’t accept this,” he said with a smile.
    Terri returned the smile—and the money. “But I won’t take it back,” she insisted.
    He pushed it firmly in her direction again. “I received it under false pretenses.”
    Just as firmly she returned it. “Nonsense, you earned it. After all, you did carry my bags.”
    For a moment, their eyes met in a duel to see who was the more stubborn. Then they laughed together. “Very well, I’ll keep it,” Maurizio conceded. He took out a gold pen, scribbled something on the note and showed it to her. He’d written:
    No man should be too proud to carry bags or to be grateful for a tip. This lesson was taught to Maurizio Vanzani by Teresa Mantini Wainright, on the occasion of their first meeting.
    At the end he’d added the date. Terri shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to teach you a lesson.”
    “Nevertheless, you’ve taught me a most valuable one. As you say, I did carry your bags. If I fall on hard times and lose the Midas, it’s a skill I may need.”
    Again they laughed together and she was aware of a subtle charm beginning to creep over her. He was the most disturbingly attractive man she’d ever met. Just being with him seemed to make the air come alive.
    “Tell me about yourself,” he said as their food arrived and they began eating. “How does an Englishwoman come to bear an Italian name, and to speak my language so fluently?”
    Of course, she thought, he’d seen her passport with its telltale middle name. “My father was Italian,” she said casually. She’d already decided not to complicate matters by mentioning the adoption. “Although we lived in England, he raised my brother and me to think of ourselves as Italian as much as English.”
    “But you’re called Wainright.”
    “That was my mother’s doing after he died. She preferred to think of us as English.” In these brief words, she skated over a depth of pain that still had the power to torment her.
    “And how do you