To Love Again Read Free Page A

occasionally paraded into Bernardo's arms. But he had a right to that. He had a right to something more than his work and his love for Amadeo and Isabella. He burned with a kind of bright light all his own, and the women who drifted through the house, models or clients, were drawn to him by something they never quite understood, something never fully revealed, something Bernardo himself no longer consciously thought about. It was merely a part of him now, like his infallible sense of style, or his respect for the two people he worked with, who in their own way had become one. He understood perfectly what they were. And he knew that he and Isabella could never have been like that. They would have remained two, always two, always in love, always at war; had she even known his feelings, they would have met like colliding constellations, exploding in a shower of comets across the heavens of their world. But it was not like that with Isabella and Amadeo. It was gentle, tender, strong. They were soldered as one soul. To see Isabella look into Amadeo's eyes was to see her disappear into them, to move into a deeper part of herself, to see her grow and fly, her wings stretched wide. Amadeo and Isabella were as two eagles soaring across their private sky, their wings in perfect harmony, their very beings one, their unison complete. It was something Bernardo no longer even resented. It was impossible to resent a pair like that. They were beautiful to see. And now he had grown comfortable with what was a fiery working relationship with a lady he loved from afar. He had his own life. And he shared something special with them. He always would. They were an indestructible, inseparable threesome. Nothing would ever come between them. The three of them knew that.
    As Isabella stood outside Amadeo's office door for a moment, she smiled to herself. She could never see that door without thinking of the first time she had seen it and these halls. They had been different then. Handsome but not as strikingly elegant as they were now. She had made them something more, as Amadeo had made her something more. She grew in his presence. She felt infinitely precious, and totally safe. Safe enough to be what she was, to do what she wanted, to dare, to move in a world with no limits at all. Amadeo made her feel limitless, he had shown her that she was, that she could be everything she wanted to be and do everything she wanted to do, and she did it all with the power of his love.
    She knocked softly on the door few people knew about. It led directly into his private office. It was a door only she and Bernardo used. And the answer came quickly. She turned the handle and walked in. For a moment they said nothing, they only looked as the same thrill swept through her soul that she had felt since she had first seen him. He smiled in answer. He felt it too. There was unfettered pleasure in his eyes, a kind of gentle adoration that always drew her to his arms like a magnet. It was the gentleness in him that she loved so much, the kindness, the compassion he always had. His was a different fire from hers. His was a sacred flame that would burn forever, held aloft for the sad and weary, a proud light, a beacon to all. Hers was a torch that danced in the night sky, so bright and beautiful that one almost feared to approach it. But no one feared to approach Amadeo. He was eminently welcoming. Everyone wanted to be close to him, although in truth, only Isabella was. And Bernardo too, of course, but differently.
    Allora, Isabellezza. What brings you here today? I thought we settled everything yesterday. He sat back in his chair, one hand held out to her, as she took it.
    More or less. But I had a few more ideas. A few' . He laughed at the word. A few with Isabella meant thirty-five, or forty-seven, or a hundred and three. Isabella never had a few of anything, not a few ideas, or a few jewels, or a few clothes. Amadeo smiled broadly as she bent for a moment to kiss his