Love Beyond Words (City Lights, #1)(15)

Julian grinned. “Cicero said ‘silence is one of the great arts of conversation.’”

“Then we must be masters of the form.”

“No, no, we’re just rusty when it comes to talking to new people. We can do this. Think of a topic, quick.”

“Ummm, travel.”

“Travel, brilliant. Here we go. Natalie Hewitt, do you travel?”

She grinned at his playfulness. “Julian Kova?, no I do not.”

“No? Are you sure?”

“Yes. I think I’d remember.”

“All right, let’s say I believe you.”

Natalie laughed. “Oh, that’s very kind of you.”

“Why do you not travel?”

“Not by choice. It’s just not in the budget at the moment.”

“Gotcha.” Julian held his arms out. “See? This is easy. We’re on a roll.”

“We are!” she laughed. “I even have a question for you: your last name is Croatian but your accent is…Spanish?”

“Correcto,” he said quickly. “But the subject is travel, and the question is—don’t think, just answer—if you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

“Venice.”

“Venice Beach?” He fished around in his pocket for his cellphone. “I’ll call you a cab. You could drive there tonight. Be there in the morning…”

“Oh stop,” she laughed. “Italy. Venice, Italy.”

“Mmm, that’s a bit more complicated.” He dumped his cellphone on the table—the latest iPhone, Natalie noticed—and leaned in. “Why Venice?”

“Because it’s…Italy. It’s pretty…and…” She waved her hands. “No, I’m not going to tell you why Venice.”

“Why not?

“Because. I just can’t. You’ll think I’m a sap. Or that I’ve seen too many romantic movies.”

“Ah, so it’s a romantic inclination.” Julian grinned innocently. “What, pray tell, is romantic about Venice, Italy?”

She tossed her napkin at him. “Oh, jeez, let me think…”

“You’re not supposed to think. Just answer.” He held out the napkin. “And I believe you dropped this.”

She burst out laughing and he watched her, as if he liked the sound of it. When she had subsided, he cocked an eyebrow at her expectantly. “Well?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to hear it,” Natalie said, the laughter fading from her voice. “I’ll get all wound up and start babbling away. Again.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“The other night I rambled on about Rafael Mendón and you just…Well, you left.” Natalie cleared her throat. “You seemed uncomfortable.”

Julian’s playful expression turned pained. “I’m very sorry if I left you feeling self-conscious. That was not my intention at all. I was just…thinking of other things. Stupid things that get in the way. But what you said…Your passion for…the writing. I liked that very much.”

Natalie felt a warm glow bloom in her stomach for the way he was looking at her. “Even so, I tend to get carried away. I know that.”

Julian tapped his fingers on the table. “All right, I confess I have ulterior motives for asking you about Venice.”

“Oh?”

“I want to hear you talk about something the way you talked about your favorite author.”

Natalie swallowed. “You do?”

“My mother once told me that you can see into the soul of a person when they speak of the place on this earth that means the most to them. Whatever the reason, having been there or not.”

Natalie felt the warm glow intensify. “So you just asked me a very personal question then, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I suppose I did.”

“Okay.” She rested her chin on her palm, a small smile on her lips. “You first.”

He sat back in his chair with a small laugh. “I suppose that’s fair.”

“I think so.”

“Rijeka, Croatia,” he answered after a moment. “A northern seaport city where my father was born. He worked in the shipyards before coming to America. I’ve never been there but have always wanted to go. I feel I need to go. He abandoned my mother and me when I was three years old and then reappeared when I was ten, only to die a month later.”

Natalie swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea…”

“How could you?” he asked gently. He turned his stunning blue gaze to the window. “I always thought that I was missing a piece of myself with his absence. More than a piece. There is half of me, my blood, my history that I don’t understand. I think that if I go to Rijeka, I will find those missing pieces, or at least the remnants of his spirit there, and perhaps fill in the holes.”

“Why don’t you go?” she asked softly.

“Because I’m afraid of what I will find.”

The silence that fell then was a thick one, full, but not unpleasant. Natalie had never met anyone who spoke like Julian did. Who thought about the world the way he did, and she suddenly had an overwhelming urge to read whatever it was he was writing.