her.

She was in more danger of stumbling now than she

had been before, Jodie realised, as her suddenly shaky

legs carried her unsteadily towards the light of the

Castillo.

Jodie was on the verge of falling asleep when she

heard the sound of Lorenzo’s bedroom door opening.

Sucking in her breath, she tensed her body, her concentration

focused on her own door, but the firm footsteps

were already fading as Lorenzo walked past her

room without even hesitating.

Jodie sat up and looked at her watch. It was gone

midnight. Where was he going? To Caterina? And if

he was there was no reason for her to be concerned,

was there? And certainly not enough to lie here wide

awake, checking her watch every few minutes, her

ears stretched for the sound of his return, like a jealous

lover.

FLORENCE! How well its medieval ruler Lorenzo de

Medici had loved his city, and how willingly he had

shown that love, commissioning the best of the

Renaissance"s gifted artists to embellish and enhance

both its glory and his own.

Jodie could only catch her breath as she sat beside

Lorenzo in the Ferrari whilst he edged it through the

city"s busy traffic, stretching every sense she could to

take in as much as possible of the wonders all around

her. Lorenzo turned off the busy main road that ran

alongside the River Arno and drove the Ferrari down

a street lined with elegant seventeenth-century buildings.

"My apartment is in the block above us," he informed

Jodie casually, as he turned into a narrow alleyway

and then down into an underground car park.

Jodie’s eyes adjusted to the gloom of the car park

after the brilliance of the sunlit street. He had already

informed her that he lived in Florence, but he hadn’t

said as yet just where they would be living once they

were married. Given the choice she would far rather

be in Florence than the Castillo, Jodie thought as they

left the car.

Lorenzo guided her towards a door which opened

onto a flight of stairs that took them up to an impressive

entrance hall, with an equally impressive coat of

arms prominently displayed above its main doorway.

The same coat of arms, surely, which she had seen

carved into the fireplace lintel in the great hall of the

Castillo?

"Come — the lift is this way," Lorenzo instructed

her. "My apartment is on the top two floors. I chose

it when I had the Palazzo remodelled because of its

views — although my grandmother used to complain

that she wished I had chosen one at ground level. She

did not care for enclosed spaces or lifts."

"The Palazzo?" Jodie questioned suspiciously

"Does that mean that the whole of this building—?"

"Was originally the home of my family? Yes. The

Palazzo was built for the tenth Duce, who had many

business interests in Florence. During my grandfather"s

lifetime it fell into disrepair — much like the

Castillo. When I inherited it I was faced with two

choices. Either I abandoned it and sold it, or I restored

it and found a way to make it pay for itself.

Converting it into apartments seemed the most sensible

option. That way I could retain control over any

work to be done."

"Is this where we will be living, then?" Jodie asked

as they got out of the lift and she followed him across

an elegant marble-floored outer hallway to a pair of

intricately carved heavy wooden doors.

"There will be times when we will live here in

Florence, yes, which is why—" He broke off from

whatever he had been about to say to unlock the doors

before opening them for her.

The room beyond them was another hallway: a

long, rectangular double-height space, with a gallery

around the whole of the upper storey. Its ceiling was

domed in the centre and painted with allegorical

scenes from mythology, whilst its walls were hung

with paintings.

"My family were at one time renowned patrons of

the arts. The eleventh Duce enjoyed entertaining the

English visitors who came to Florence in the seventeenth

and eighteenth centuries. He held court here in

the Palazzo, and his mistress"s salons were famous."

"His mistress"s salons?" Jodie queried uncertainly.

"The eleventh Duce was something of a rebel.

While he stayed here in Florence, and set up home

with his mistress, his wife and children were banished

to a villa outside the city. He was a great patron of

beauty in all its forms. He caused something of a

scandal in Florence by having his mistress depicted

in a series of paintings, each one portraying her readiness

to receive him in a different sexual position. It

is rumoured, in fact, that in order for the artist to

faithfully portray the correct angles of her body, the

original sketches were made whilst she and the Duce

were in the act of making love. But the Duce’s figure

was removed by the artist for her final painting, so

that her patron could visualise his lover’s body as she

waited to receive him."

"Oh," said Jodie weakly. "The artist was a woman?"

Lorenzo shrugged. "My ancestor was probably concerned

that a male artist might find such an erotic

commission too much for his self-control. And rumour

has it that Cosimo himself was not averse to

persuading his artist to abandon her work in order to

join them in their pursuit of sexual pleasure."

When Jodie couldn’t help glancing at the walls,

Lorenzo told her grimly, "You will not find any of

the paintings here — they vanished a long time ago—

looted, so it is believed, on Napoleon"s instructions.

He had heard of them and wanted them. If they still

exist they will be in the possession of some private

collector." Lorenzo give another shrug. "Their value

was not in the hand of the artist who painted them so

much as in their notoriety." He flicked back the cuff

of the linen jacket he was wearing and glanced at his

watch.

"It is now almost four o"clock. I telephoned ahead

and arranged for you to have a private showing at a

designer salon on Via Tornabuoni. The manager there

understands the situation, and she will help you to

select a suitable wardrobe — including a wedding

dress. It isn’t very far from here, and—"

"No!" Jodie could see the look of hauteur darkening

Lorenzo’s eyes. He obviously didn’t like having his

plans questioned. Tough, she decided grittily. No way

was she going to be treated like some kind of mindless

doll he could have dressed up in over-priced designer

clothes to suit his own idea of how his wife

should look.

"I agree that I need to buy something suitable to be

married in, but I am perfectly capable of making my

own choice and paying for whatever I need with my

own money. Think of how much medical care you

could donate to those children in need, instead of

wasting money on designer clothes for me," she urged

him.

"You have a valid point," he agreed. "But Italian

society, like any other society, has its rules and its

obligations. For you as my wife not to be dressed as

the other wives will cause questions to be asked—

which could raise doubts as to the true validity of our

marriage. That in turn could lead to a legal challenge

that the terms of my grandmother’s will are not being

met. Indeed, I wouldn’t put it past Caterina to do