Page 145 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

Carefully, Eleanora sipped her champagne, her eyes unconsciously going to a gilt-framed mirror on the wall near their table. She could see her reflection again, and yet again it made her catch her breath, forcing thoughts into her head she’d never had before.

She wasn’t dark and dramatic like Tonia, she wasn’t sultry and voluptuous. Her dress wasn’t cerise or scarlet or peacock-blue, the vivid jewel colours that Tonia adored, and the neckline didn’t plunge to expose an opulent cleavage like Tonia’s, and her hair wasn’t piled up on her head in raven tresses, and her eyes were not deep-set and long-lashed, or her mouth crimson, her lips lush and pouting…

No, she wasn’t any of that. And yet—

‘Yes, it’s you.’ Sanzio’s low voice penetrated her abstraction and her eyes snapped to his. ‘It’s you, Eleanora—the new you. The you that you can always be now.’

He lifted his glass to her, toasted her. For a moment, just a moment, he held her wondering gaze, and for a moment, just the fraction of a moment, she thought she saw something move within his. Something that would have quickened her pulse had it lasted a fraction longer.

But it was no longer there. Instead, he was smiling his warm, familiar smile, with nothing in it but friendliness and encouragement.

Then he set down the glass on the table and talked about something else.

* * *

‘Sanzio—I saw your name on the register.’

Sanzio looked up at the tall figure at his shoulder greeting him—Nicolò Falcone.

‘Nic,’ he acknowledged. He hadn’t expected the owner of the hotel—of all the Falcone hotels worldwide—to be here tonight, and he hoped the exchange would be brief. He didn’t want to unnerve Eleanora. She had done well all through their meal, her tension gradually dissipating, and he’d deliberately kept the flow of conversation steady and light. That suited him too, kept other thoughts at bay. Thoughts he must not indulge. This evening was for Eleanora, only for her, and he wanted her to feel at ease, be comfortable socialising with him like this.

Not facing scrutiny or questions she might find awkward.

But someone else was approaching, a tall and very beautiful blonde—Nic Falcone’s wife, Francesca. Sanzio got to his feet, prepared to make the inevitable introductions all round, but she was looking past him to Eleanora, who was also looking up at her, recognition in both faces.

‘It’s Eleanora, isn’t it?’ Nic Falcone’s wife said, and belatedly, Sanzio remembered that she came from the same aristocratic background and she, like Eleanora, was also a donna.

‘Yes—’ Eleanora was smiling ‘—and you’re Adrietta’s big sister—we last met at her wedding.’

‘Of course!’ Francesca’s smile widened. ‘You were there with your father and sister. How are they, these days? I think the last time I saw Tonia—’ Abruptly, she stopped.

‘Bad timing,’ Nic Falcone murmured to his wife in a dry voice.

‘It’s quite all right,’ Sanzio said smoothly. ‘Tonia and I went our separate ways. She found her marquis, and I—’ deliberately, he took Eleanora’s hand ‘—thankfully, found Eleanora.’

Francesca Falcone’s face lit up. ‘I’m so glad!’ she said warmly. Her eyes dropped to Eleanora’s hand—and widened. The wedding band on Eleanora’s hand glinted in the candlelight.

‘Oh, my goodness! When did that happen? Nic and I have only just got back from the States.’

‘Very quietly,’ Eleanora said. ‘I didn’t want to clash with Tonia’s wedding.’

Francesca laughed. ‘Ditto for Nic and me—we bolted to the Caribbean and let Adrietta have the three-ring circus wedding, so I sympathise! Speaking of Adrietta, she’s in Rome at the moment. Let’s all have a girls’ lunch together.’

The Falcones took their leave, taking their places at the table where they were dining. Sanzio resumed his seat. ‘You know Donna Francesca’s sister, I take it?’ he posed.

‘Yes, we’re the same age. But I haven’t seen her since her wedding.’

‘Then it will be good to get back in touch,’ he said.

‘I’m not sure…’ Eleanora began uncertainly.

‘It would be good for you,’ Sanzio told her. He paused. ‘There’s no reason now to live the life of a recluse. And besides, why turn down an invitation you’d enjoy?’

‘Maybe it would be nice to see Adrietta again,’ Eleanora said wistfully. ‘If she wants to, of course.’

Sanzio’s eyebrows rose. ‘Why shouldn’t she?’ He held her eyes deliberately. ‘Tonia,’ he said, ‘was…is…a man’s woman. She doesn’t see women as friends, only rivals. You,’ he emphasised, ‘are not like that. I could see Nic’s wife warming to you. People do. You’re very likeable, Eleanora. Just because—’ he went on holding her eyes ‘—neither your father nor your sister value you does not mean others don’t.’ He paused again. This was important for her to hear. ‘Even your mother, you know, when we were at the estancia, had praise for you. She told me that even though you don’t like horses—well, not to centre your life on them!—she was proud of you.’

‘Did she? That…that was kind of her.’ He could hear the diffidence in Eleanora’s voice.