Lucy Gordon - Wedding in Venice

At last the tables were cleared away for the dancing to begin. Dulcie and Guido took the floor, to applause. Gradually the other guests joined them, until everyone seemed to be dancing, except Justine.

The music was sweet and sensuous, disturbing her vaguely. Nobody should listen to music like that without dancing to it.

"You look tired," said a sympathetic voice at her shoulder.

She turned and saw Riccardo holding out a glass of champagne to her. She drained it thankfully.

"Hey, Riccardo" came Guido's cheerful voice as he danced past with his bride in his arms. "Your duties are finished. From now on you're our guest.

Riccardo smiled and nodded, taking Justine's hand.

"Dance with me," he said.

As if in a dream she circled the floor with him, feeling the movement of his legs, the closeness of his body to hers, and knowing that she had been waiting for this all day.

She had expected him to talk, trying to dazzle her with words again, but instead he looked at her tenderly, in silence, until she could sense that he was caught in the same dream.

Then there was a small commotion. Marco and Harriet were dancing together, absorbed in each other as she hadn't seen them before.

Justine remembered Dulcie's prediction that they were more in love than they thought, and reckoned it might be true. Everyone else thought so, too, because suddenly they were crowding around them, demanding that they set the date for their own wedding.

Justine didn't stay to hear what happened. Riccardo had clasped her hand and was drawing her out into the garden.

The garden was flooded with light from the colored lamps hung between the trees. Guests milled everywhere.

"Let us escape them," Riccardo said, drawing Justine beneath the trees, and not stopping until they had reached the furthest part of the garden.

Once there he wasted no time before taking her into his arms. Justine went willingly. It was no use pretending to herself that she didn't want to kiss him. She wanted it passionately.

He had said he'd thought of nothing but her, and she knew now that everything that had happened to her in those few days, everything she'd seen or heard or done, had simply been another way of waiting for him.

Once before she had come alive in his arms, high on the roof, under the stars. Some part of her was still living in that moment, ready and eager for his touch.

The words he wanted to hear were hard for her, but her mouth spoke to him just the same, caressing his with skill and joy, saying things that could not be said aloud, and eliciting a response that thrilled her. She could feel the excitement mounting but was no longer sure whether it was his or her own. Where did he end and she begin?

"I mustn't kiss you too much," he said at last, huskily, drawing back. "It's dangerous."

She laughed recklessly. "What's wrong with a little danger? I thought you were the kind of man who enjoyed it."

"Don't provoke me, Justine, I'm almost at the end of my control already."

"Then let's be sedate and well behaved," she said, forcing herself to back away from him. It was hard because she was as fired up as he.

She went to the stone wall and looked out over the water.

"Look there," Riccardo said. "Do you recognize them?"

A solitary gondola was gliding out from the palazzo. Justine could see Dulcie reclining in her wedding gown, while Guido took the oar.

"He's got a tiny apartment tucked away somewhere," she said. "Dulcie said they're spending their honeymoon there, away from the world. What an incredibly romantic way to end a wedding!"

"Romantic. Meaning that you disapprove?"

"I wish them well. I hope they'll be the one couple in the world to prove that it can work the way it's supposed to.

"Don't forget the promise you made me, not to leave without seeing me again," he reminded her.

"I've seen you twice since then."

"Not the way I meant. I'll call for you in the boat tomorrow morning and take you – well, wait and see."

"I may have other things to do tomorrow."

His answer was to wrap his arms tightly about her, taking her prisoner.

"No," he said firmly. "You haven't."

"Oh, yes, I have," she retorted playfully.

"Oh, no, you haven't," he assured her just as playfully.

"Well then, I guess I haven't." She smiled.

He kissed her briefly and released her.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

He slipped away before anyone could see them together, and Justine wandered back to the wedding, where everyone was toasting Marco and Harriet.

* * *

She dressed for boating in dark blue trousers and a white silk top.

Riccardo was waiting for her in Guido's motorboat, borrowed for the occasion.

He was dressed in black shorts and shirt, the black stark against the brown of his skin.

He reached up to help her into the boat.

"Steady, careful," he said.

"I'm not breakable." She laughed. "I could simply jump in. Or fall in. I've done it before."

"Yes, twice," he agreed with comical gravity. "It's causing talk. If you do it a third time you'll have to marry me."

She shook her head, her eyes dancing. "A terrible fate."

"Do you think so?"

"I meant for you. Imagine having to marry me for a reason like that."

"I'd marry you for any reason if I thought I could talk you into it."

For a while Justine concentrated on enjoying the day out as Riccardo gently urged the motorboat down the Grand Canal and out into the lagoon where there were miles of open water, bounded on the far side by the long islands of the Lido.

"Where are we going?" she asked, standing beside him at the wheel.

"We're going nowhere," he replied, putting his arm about her and drawing her tightly against him.

"Where's nowhere?"

"Wait and see."

That was fine with her. Who could ask for more than to drift across the water, going nowhere with him?

"There's some champagne below," he said.

She went down and found the boat less cramped than she had expected. There was a large cushioned space, almost as big as a double bed. In the picnic hamper she found champagne and glasses, and took them up.

He stopped the boat within sight of some of the smaller islands, and they drank contentedly.

"If this is nowhere, I love it," she said.

He nodded. "The most peaceful place on earth." He brushed her face gently. "I love you."

She shook her head. "Don't."

"Do you find it so hard to believe?"

"So quickly? Yes, it's hard."

His shrug had a touch of helplessness that sat oddly with his usual air of confidence.

"I, too, was taken by surprise. You see, I'm like you. I plan my life ahead. I had not planned for you, and yet there you were, at the airport.

"Justine, I don't understand what's happened to us any more than you do. I only know that it has happened, and there's no going back. To say that it's too soon, that we've barely met, is easy. I admit it, but it changes nothing.

"That day I went to the airport, I had nothing on my mind but collecting supplies. Then I looked up and saw the woman I'd been waiting for all my life. She was red-haired and glorious, and she looked me straight in the eye in a way that said, 'Fool with me at your peril.'

"I'd never had a challenge that thrilled me more. There and then I decided to fool with her. And the more I knew her, the more I knew it had to be for the rest of my life."

"Don't I get a say?"

"Of course. Tell me what you want from me. A brief adventure? Fine. We'll have an adventure. And afterward you will stay with me forever."

"Then it wouldn't be an adventure," she countered. "An adventure is brief. That's why it's an adventure."

"And you don't think that spending your life with one man might be an adventure?"

"That's just clever words."

"What you really want is a fling, but flings are for people who can't commit themselves."

"You forget I've been married."

"No, I don't forget. But I don't think you committed yourself to that marriage, otherwise you wouldn't have cast it aside at the first hurdle."

"You know nothing about it," she cried, on the defensive again.

"Then tell me. Show me that I'm wrong."

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Not to me, but to yourself. Have you ever tried to do that, beyond believing that all your prejudices had been proved correct?"

"I don't have to listen to this."

"Fine, run away."

Justine looked all around her. Water everywhere.

"Well, I can't, can I?" she seethed. "I'm trapped out here now."

"Ah, yes! I never thought of that."

"Like hell you didn't."

He grinned.

"Will you please start this engine and take me back to Venice?"

"I've got a better idea," he said. "Why don't we go below and have something to eat?"

For a moment she glared at him, then relented. "All right, but it's under protest!"

"Of course. You'll find the smoked salmon tastes just as good under protest."

She aimed a friendly punch at him. It was too glorious a day for anger.

The picnic hamper was full of the very finest from the hotel. As she unpacked and they reclined against the cushions, she asked, "How is it you were able to take the day off?"

"I did well out of those catering assignments, so I could hire some extra help for a few days. This is more important."

As he'd promised, the food was exquisite. For once she forgot about healthy eating and indulged herself. Afterward she was suddenly sleepy, and when he drew her back against his shoulder she nodded off at once.