“So many years! Tell me have you beaten your demon, my son?” He looked at him with a quizzical eye before answering his own question. “I think he lies only dormant, my son!” he concluded almost sage like.
Changing the subject before the old priest had time to question him further, the former researcher cum billionaire introduced Nara to him. The old man smiled as he took her in.
“I can see though you have captured his heart, La Signorina! Such a beautiful woman, Thomas you’re a lucky man,” he said as he now took and then kissed her hand.
Watching Nara blush as she thanked the priest, he had to agree with his old friend who still had a twinkle in his eye despite his vows.
Thomas, having decided to spend the rest of the afternoon with the priest and with Umberto holding court telling her things about him that even Mikhail didn’t know, watched on, falling in love with her once more as she listened, warmly smiled, and laughed over coffee and cake.
On returning to the hotel, Nara made him wait by refusing him the honor of taking her in the shower instead she insisted that he went first, dress for dinner, and wait to take her out. As he entered the bathroom he decided if somewhat reluctantly to follow her orders, she then smacked his bottom.
“Bad Thomas!” she chastised him.
When he came out, he tried to make a move towards her again, but before he could grab her Nara ran past him into the bathroom and locked the door behind her to the sound of her saying, “Niet! Naughty, naughty!”
He laughed loudly.
Foiled! He set about drying himself, put on some cologne from Aqua din Pinna, his favorite from the small perfumery in Florence, his underwear, and then his linen tailored white shirt followed by his sky blue linen trousers. He pulled his holster personally designed to fit discreetly with a Glock pistol in it over his shoulder, around his side, just as Mikhail had insisted. He donned his tailored linen jacket to hide it.
As he made his Bombay Martini with a drop of bitters from the drinks tray, Thomas pondered Umberto’s final words of the afternoon.
“Thomas, promise me you will control the Demon for if you don’t he will consume your soul one day,” he said referring to Thomas’s determination to use power as a way to punish the injustice in his life he felt that had been committed to him and those he was charged to lead and protect.
“Remember, my son, rather than providing closure, he does the opposite, keeps the wound open and fresh by taking those things you value most treasured!”
Thomas had replied back with a wry smile as he always did when they debated all those years previously when he had shared his plans to travel to Russia.
“Yes, Father and when presented with a Gordian knot, one slashes it,” he replied using the reference of the famous legend that the man who could untie the knot was destined to rule the entire world. When Alexander was presented with it, he had slashed it with his sword and unraveled it and conquered the known world.
Umberto rolled his eyes at Thomas’s use of the legend of Alexander as a justification that one shouldn’t walk away from a fight of honor whatever the cost.
“Just make sure you find peace one day and give that young lady of yours, a child,” Umberto ordered before forcibly kissing him on both cheeks with a firm grip.
A half hour later as he sat lost in his thoughts slipping his chilled Martini listening to the sounds of Venice mixing with the classic music of Bach’s Cello suite No.1 being played softly from the musicians on the terrace bar below, Nara entered the room. She took his breath away yet again, just like she had done two years ago in Oleg’s club, except this time she wasn’t dressed for sin but instead she was a young elegant, classy woman. As his eyes wandered all over her, he was sure she would have matched in looks the lost painting by Aetion of Roxanne, the chief wife of Alexander the Great who was described as the most beautiful woman in all of Asia by historians.
With her light naturally olive complexion, long flowing jet-black hair brushed into a ponytail, so it sat down the front of her left breast, she wore no lipstick, just eye shadow in doing so emphasizing her dark brown eyes. She completed the spell by wearing a long flowing dress with a single Chanel top, with a Gucci charm bracelet on her wrist.
Standing up he smiled looked into her eyes and was mesmerized.
“How do I look, my Thomas?” she asked.
He replied in Italian that she was breathtakingly beautiful as he held open his hand for her to take, earning a smile from her even though she had no idea what he said until he translated it in Turkmen for her.
He took her to a small restaurant in the shady lanes behind Ponte delle Tette (Tit’s Bridge) and sat in a corner so he could have sight of the exits, old habits dying hard, not to mention Mikhail’s orders ringing in his ears. They ordered antipasti to start, for the entree Nara ordered filetto di San Pietro while he ordered Risotto al nero sepia accompanied with a beautiful bottle of Brunello di Montalcino for them to share.
They chattered about everything and nothing while they waited for main courses to arrive. Looking into her smoldering eyes, he slipped his hand behind her neck and drew her closer where he kissed on her mouth. It was a slow kiss and gentle.
“My beautiful darling,” he whispered into her ear as he attempted to feel her breasts.
“Naughty! Naughty!” she said playfully spanking hand in admonishment.
The rest of dinner was interrupted with lots of looks of love, plans for the new yacht, and fingers intertwining as they had their coffee and shared a Gelato before he paid the bill and they left the restaurant.
As they walked back to the hotel along the streets, a massive downpour arrived just as they reached Piazza di San Marco.
Standing under the arches with her under his arms watching the rain come down Thomas murmured, “I better ring the hotel and ask them to bring the Wellington Boots darling the flood is coming!”
About ten minutes later, instead of a hotel porter turning up Mikhail and one of his men rolled up with the boots and a couple of umbrellas.
“I thought you said I would be alone Mikhail?” Thomas said towards him slightly displeased that his bit of escapism was over.
“I lied!” Mikhail replied smiling, not a touch of remorse in sight.
“Well, I hope you brought Hanna with you to Venice!” Thomas said, not letting him off the hook.
“Yes, I hope you did as well Mikhail,” Nara said in support of him. Though Hanna and Nara were from different worlds, they had become good friends.
“Yes! Yes! Of course I did, it was the only way she would let me come!” he replied in mock shock.
As they looked at Mikhail with him shaking his head, the string quartet started playing for the patrons of the tourist restaurants around the Piazza.
“I’m glad to be spending this moment with you, my love,” Nara said before turning to look up at him.
“Me too, my darling girl,” he whispered as he leaned down and kissed her ear.
Taking over the party Nara invited Mikhail, Hanna, and Yossi, his man, for a nightcap at the hotel as they waited for the rain to cease.
Once it had lightened enough, the pair of them with Mikhail and Ari his new member of their protection team trailing behind them walked to a pier near the Palazzo Ducale, at that moment, a streak of lightning flew across the sky. Thomas wondered if it were his lightning bolt!
On reaching the Danieli on the Grand Canal, they had their nightcap with Hanna, Mikhail, and Yossi with lots of joyful laughter ringing around the small bar and then bid them goodnight they retired to their suite. Once in the lift Thomas had pressed her up against the wall and let his hands roam freely as he had kissed her.