Reunited with Her Italian Ex (12 page)

‘No, I can't see you yearning for someone who didn't return the feeling. But surely in the last two years you must have had some sort of romantic interest.'

‘No. Apart from the horrible Jenson I've been alone. Which is a kind of freedom,' she added wryly.

‘I know exactly how that feels.'

‘Don't tell me you've been alone,' she teased. ‘Every woman who passes gives you yearning looks.'

‘But what matters is to be wanted by the one you yourself want,' he said. ‘The others don't count.'

‘That's true,' she said softly.

‘So you're telling me there was no other man?'

‘Hmm!' She appeared to consider this before saying gently, ‘I suppose I could always say that it's none of your business. How about that?'

‘It's certainly one response.' He gave her a wry smile. ‘I could go and bury myself under the bedclothes because I couldn't cope with you snubbing me. Or I could get blind drunk. Or I could say that your lovers definitely are my business. And always will be. So now what?'

His eyes met hers, gleaming with a mixture of humour and intensity that struck her to the heart.

‘My lovers,' she mused. ‘I wonder just what you've heard.'

‘Not a thing. After you vanished I tried to hunt you down for a little while, but when you never made contact with me I thought—well—' He gave a slight shrug.

‘You thought, “To hell with the silly English girl! If she wants to play it like that let her go and jump in the lake.”'

‘Well, maybe once or twice, but I didn't mean it,' he said, colouring.

‘Oddly enough, I did end up in a lake shortly afterwards. It was a pleasure trip and the boat collapsed.'

‘
What?
Were you hurt?'

‘No, I just I got wet. Hey, I wonder if you made that happen. Strange to think we were in touch all that time and didn't know it.'

‘Possibly. You were never off my mind.'

‘Nor you off mine. And I did some cursing of my own.'

‘I'm not sure I want to know about that,' he said with a grin. ‘It could give me nightmares.'

‘If we're asking about each other's lovers—what about yours? You must have had plenty.'

‘Not lovers,' he said. ‘Girlfriends, perhaps. I won't deny that I've enjoyed the company of a certain kind of woman because that way I could briefly forget the way you threw me overboard. But there wasn't anyone that I loved, even for a moment. It was always you, even when I most desperately didn't want it to be you.'

‘Couldn't get rid of me, huh?' she teased.

‘No matter how hard I tried.' He gave a warm laugh. ‘You're a pesky woman. I told you a hundred times to get out of my heart but you just said, “Nope. Here I am and here I'm staying.”'

‘That sounds like me.'

He looked up suddenly. Following his gaze, she saw the other couple rise from the table and depart, hand in hand.

‘I guess he got lucky,' Mario mused.

‘Or maybe she did.'

‘I didn't get lucky. Damiano called me to look after another customer and when I returned you'd gone. If only you could have heard me cursing.' He drained his coffee. ‘Let's go.'

Upstairs, he came with her as far as her door.

‘Remember last time?' he asked.

‘Yes, we said goodnight at this door. I went inside and you went away.'

‘I didn't really go away. I stayed out here in the corridor for ages.'

She opened the door and stretched out a hand to him.

‘No need for that this time,' she said.

He took her hand at once, eagerly letting her draw him inside, then going into her arms, which she opened to him. It was she who drew them to the bed, he who followed her lead, but slowly, as though aware that they were rewriting history. Once they had wanted each other without satisfaction. Now they embraced satisfaction eagerly, joyfully.

There was physical pleasure in their caresses, but more than that was the joy of rediscovering each other. To retread the road, each seeing the other with new eyes, exploring new diversions, making wonderful discoveries; these were things they had never dared to dream of.

Afterwards, as they lay together in each other's arms, Natasha gave a sudden soft chuckle.

‘What is it?' he demanded. ‘What did I do that makes you laugh?'

‘Don't get defensive. You could make me laugh and still be “macho”.'

She laughed again and he frowned, demanding, ‘So what is it?'

‘It's what Sally said about you having a “guardian angel” side. That's the last thing I'd ever have suspected about you. A rebel, a pain in the butt, a pesky clown—any of them. But a guardian angel? Or any kind of angel. I doubt it.'

His annoyance faded and he kissed her forehead. ‘Thanks. I see you really understand me.'

‘You don't mind being called those things?'

‘Not at all. I'd have minded being called an angel. That would have been insulting. But I think “pain in the butt” rather suits me.'

‘Definitely,' she said, kissing him. ‘Now, I'm going to sleep. You've exhausted me for the night. Goodnight, “guardian angel”.'

She snuggled against him and in a few moments she was asleep.

Guardian angel
, he thought.
That's almost funny, considering how I hated you only recently. But somehow things took a different turn.

He rested his head against her and in a few minutes he too was asleep. After several hours he awoke to find her eyes still closed and her head on his shoulder. When he ventured to move slightly her arms tightened, as though even in sleep she needed to keep him close.

He clasped her back, offering her the embrace she needed for reassurance.

Romeo's words drifted through his mind again.
It is my lady...oh, it is my love. Oh, that she knew she were.

But she does know
, he mused.
If she knows anything by now, it's that I love her.

He kissed her gently, murmuring, ‘You are my lady. You are my love.'

She sighed and nestled closer, smiling as though she'd heard him and been reassured. He leaned against her, happy and willing to sleep again, but then a noise from his phone disturbed him.

‘Curses,' he muttered. ‘My mobile phone. Where is it?'

Undressing hastily, he hadn't noticed it fall to the floor. Now he eased himself gently away from Natasha and leaned down to pick up the phone. Connecting, he found a text from an unknown number:

You're taking a bigger risk than you know. She's mine. Get lost.

For a moment he was simply bewildered. Who could the message be from? But then the answer came to him like a clap of thunder.

Elroy Jenson. The man who'd vindictively destroyed Natasha's career because she'd dared to defy him. The man who'd spied on her from a distance, watching where she fled to escape him. The man who still had his claws in her, and would deepen them if he could.

He was swept by such rage that his head was dizzy and the whole world seemed to turn black.

‘No,' he whispered. ‘She's not yours. She's mine. She's
mine.
She always was.
And she always will be.
'

Behind him, Natasha stirred, murmuring, ‘Is something the matter?'

‘No,' he said. ‘Go back to sleep. Nothing's the matter. Nothing at all. Your guardian angel will deal with it.'

CHAPTER TEN

‘H
OW
ARE
YOU
enjoying Verona?' Sally asked Natasha at breakfast next morning.

‘I love it.'

‘And Verona loves her,' Mario said. ‘She's doing a great job for our hotels.'

‘Perhaps she can come here later and do something for Venice hotels,' Damiano said.

‘What a lovely idea,' Natasha said. ‘I'll take a stroll around Venice this morning.' She glanced at Mario before saying slowly, ‘Just to remind myself what it's like.'

He nodded.

After breakfast they slipped out into the narrow alley that ran by the hotel.

‘You walked this way alone the first time,' he reminded her. ‘But I wasn't far behind you.'

‘I know.'

‘You know? You mean you knew it then?'

‘Yes, I told the receptionist where I was going, and you were nearby. When I came out I heard your footsteps behind me.'

‘So you always knew I was following you?'

‘No, but I hoped you were. I went into a shop to give you a chance to catch up. But you didn't.'

‘I was tempted. When you stopped I worked out a plan to go into the shop casually and just “happen” to meet you. But I lost my nerve, so I waited a bit.'

‘Lost your nerve? You?'

‘You have that effect on me.'

‘I'll remember that. It could be useful.'

‘Be honest. You already knew that you scared me stiff.'

Laughing, they went on their way.

At last they came to the Grand Canal, the great S-shaped stream of water that wound through the city. Boats of every kind filled it. Just coming up was a
vaporetto
, one of the great water buses that transported passengers all over the city. Small water taxis were everywhere, but also the boats that everyone came to Venice to see, gondolas. Natasha looked eagerly at the slim, elegant conveyances, propelled by a man with one oar.

‘You were standing here when you saw your first gondola close up,' he remembered.

‘And I couldn't think how a gondola could go straight when it was only being rowed on one side,' she said. ‘You told me that that side bulged more than the other, so the water took longer to slide past. I didn't understand, so you said I should take a ride in it. You hailed the gondolier—like you're doing now.'

The boat was gliding to a halt beside them. Gently, he handed her in and they settled down together. It felt wonderful, just as it had the first time.

‘Aaaaaah.' Sighing with pleasure, she stretched out, looking around her at the little canal and listening to the singing coming from around the corner. ‘It's lovely, but this is where I fell asleep.'

‘That's right. You couldn't have made it plainer what you thought of me, Natasha—Natasha?'

She was lying back with her eyes closed.
Just like last time
, he thought.

The gondolier regarded him sympathetically. ‘Some men are just unlucky,
signore
,' he said, speaking in Venetian dialect.

‘True,' Mario said wryly in the same language. ‘But some men are also luckier than they know. The problem is finding out which you are.'

He watched Natasha carefully for a moment, then leaned forward and kissed her. When she didn't react he repeated the kiss more forcefully.

‘Hello,' Natasha said, opening her eyes.

‘Hello. Sorry if I disturbed you.'

‘Tell me, when I fell asleep the first time, did you kiss me then?'

‘Don't you remember?'

She smiled up at him in a way he guessed was meant to drive him mad. She was certainly succeeding. Did she know that? Did she enjoy it?

‘I'm not sure,' she murmured.

‘Then let me remind you.'

He laid his lips gently over hers again, leaving them there for several moments.

The gondolier grinned. His job exposed him to a lot of enjoyable sights.

Natasha relaxed and put her arms about him. Although she had been asleep for their first ride, two years ago, she was sure he hadn't kissed her then because she would have remembered. Now she gave herself up to pleasure.

Afterwards, they sat leaning against each other, watching the little canals drift past. She had a mysterious sense that the journey might go on for ever, and wished that it would. But all too soon they drew up outside the hotel. Once inside, they became involved in the preparations for the christening, and for the rest of the day she barely spent a moment alone with him.

* * *

Next morning everyone set out for the church where the christening would take place. It was only a short distance away, so they went on foot.

‘It's a big family occasion,' Mario said as they walked through the alley that approached the church. ‘Damiano's first wife died giving birth to Pietro. One reason he married Sally was to give that kid a mother.'

‘You mean it was a marriage of convenience? They seem so devoted to each other.'

‘They are. They thought it was a marriage of convenience, but in fact they were really in love. They just hadn't realised it.'

She looked into her wine glass, murmuring, ‘That can happen when people don't understand their own feelings.'

‘So I've heard. It must be quite a stunning discovery.'

‘Yes,' she said. ‘It is. There's no recovering from it, or from blaming yourself for how stupid you were.'

‘Would you call yourself stupid?'

‘Mad, imbecile,' she said. ‘Even worse than that. But a lucky fate gave me the chance to put things right.'

He raised his glass. ‘Here's to fate.'

They clinked glasses.

‘So did they realise they were in love?' she asked.

‘It dawned on them eventually. She had a bad time when Franco was born. She might not have come through it. I thought Damiano would go out of his mind with fear and grief. He wasn't keen on Sally having another baby, but she really wanted it and he gave in.'

He gave a brief laugh. ‘Few people know the real Damiano. To the outside world he's a ruthless businessman. But once that front door shuts behind him, he's a willing slave to his wife.'

‘Oh, really?' She gave him a cheeky look. ‘Is that how you judge a good husband? If he's her willing slave?'

‘Who knows? Perhaps you'll have the chance to find out.'

There were already plenty of friends and family in place, smiling when they appeared and made their way along the aisle. Sally walked with her new baby in her arms, Damiano carried their toddler, Charlie and Mario walked together, while Pietro accompanied Natasha, holding her hand. Again she had the happy feeling of being part of the family.

It grew even better at the party that evening. Mario introduced her to everyone in the crowd, most of whom seemed to have heard of her already.

‘We've all looked forward to meeting you,' said one elderly man.

‘Just be a little patient,' Mario told him. ‘You'll hear something soon.'

‘What did that mean?' she asked as he drew her away.

‘Just that people think we're a couple. Do you mind that?'

‘Not at all,' she assured him. ‘But what is he going to hear soon?'

‘Why don't we go and talk about that?'

He drew her slowly out of the room, waving farewell to the other guests, who cheered them in a way that left no doubt that they were expecting to hear about a wedding very soon. Somehow, Mario had given that impression.

Once inside her room he kissed her before saying, ‘I may have said more than I should have done without asking you first. But we so clearly belong together that people accept it.'

‘And if you could have asked me first?'

‘I'd have asked you to set the date for our wedding.'

‘Yes, you really should have mentioned it to me.'

‘Are you mad at me?'

‘I'll let you know that later.' She drew him to the bed. ‘For the moment I have other things on my mind.'

‘So have I.' He was already working on her clothes.

We did the right thing coming here
, she thought.
It's made things better, as nothing else could have done. The past is over. It didn't happen. We are free.

Free.
The word seemed to echo, casting hope over the future. As they made love she kept her eyes on his face, finding that he too was watching her, sending a silent message that she understood and returned with all her heart.

And he too understood. She recognised that from the long sigh of happiness and fulfilment he gave as they lay in each other's arms afterwards.

‘If only we could have known,' he whispered.

‘It was too much to hope for,' she replied. ‘Even now I daren't hope. It's too good to be true. Something will happen to make things go wrong.'

‘Nothing will go wrong,' he said firmly. ‘I won't let it.'

‘Oh, you think it's all up to you, do you, big man?'

‘Right this minute I feel powerful enough to dictate everything in the world. You hear that?' he yelled up at the ceiling. ‘Nothing is ever going to go wrong between us again. I insist on it. I order it.'

‘Who are you giving orders to?' she chuckled.

‘The little green men who try to dictate to us. From now on, I'm in charge.'

‘Oh, yeah?'

‘Not of you,' he said hastily. ‘Just of them.'

They collapsed with laughter, rocking back and forth with delight.

Afterwards, Natasha was to remember that moment, a triumphant assertion of joy and confidence before catastrophe descended on them once more.

* * *

Next morning Mario suggested a walk through Venice.

‘It was a good idea to come back,' he said as they strolled. ‘The people we were then don't exist any more, and this way we've got rid of them.'

‘I'm not sure I want to get rid of them,' she observed. ‘There were things about you I think I'll cling to. You've always been the best-looking man for miles around. I'm not changing that.'

‘Thank you, ma'am.'

He began to draw her in another direction, but she resisted.

‘Why can't we stay here?' she asked.

‘Because of that place,' he said, indicating an outdoor café. It was the one where they had had their quarrel.

But it need not have happened, she thought.

So many times she'd wanted to tell Mario that she knew the truth after reading Tania's letter, but somehow the moment had never been right. But perhaps this was the right time and place.

‘Why don't you buy me a coffee there?' she said.

‘Don't you realise what that place is?' he demanded.

‘Yes, it's where we made our huge mistake and lost each other. Perhaps it's time to put it right.'

‘I thought we'd already put it right.'

‘Yes, but there's a little more to do. Come with me.'

She led him to the café and found that by a strange chance the same table was available.

‘This is where we sat,' she said as they sipped coffee.

‘Until we were interrupted, but that won't happen this time,' he said firmly. ‘That woman is out of our lives for good.' He became suddenly tense. ‘What's the matter? Why are you smiling like that? Don't you believe me?'

‘Yes, I believe you.'

‘Do you really? You believe that I was telling you the truth? You trust me? I would never deceive you. Tell me that you believe that.'

‘I do. I believe everything you've told me. I know you're an honest man and you always will be.'

‘You mean that? You really mean that?'

‘Every word.'

He took her face between his hands and spoke softly. ‘If you could imagine what it means to me to know that we're close enough for you to have learned to trust me.'

‘I only want to tell you—' She stopped, silenced by a nervous feeling that she did not understand.

‘You only want to tell me what? That you love me. That's it, isn't it?'

‘Oh, yes, that's it.'

‘Then that's all I need to hear.'

‘But, Mario—'

His lips on hers silenced her. He was kissing her fiercely, powerfully, yet devotedly, longingly. She surrendered to the pleasure, knowing that this, and only this, was the whole of life.

At last he released her. She could tell that he was shaking and his breath came unevenly.

‘My darling,' he whispered. ‘What is it that you needed to say?'

‘Nothing. It doesn't matter.'

Nothing mattered enough to break the spell of this moment. She took hold of him again, returning the kiss fervently. Around them the other diners laughed and cheered, and the waiter cleared his throat. Without looking at him, Mario pulled some money from his pocket. The waiter seized it and vanished.

‘Let's go,' Mario said. ‘This isn't the place for what we have to do.'

‘
Have
to do?' she murmured against his lips.

‘We have urgent business to attend to,' he whispered. ‘Can't you feel it?'

‘Yes—oh, yes.'

Seizing her hand, he rose and hurried away. She followed him joyfully. The words she'd planned to say could wait. Nothing mattered now but to be with him, in his arms, his bed, his life.

Together they ran through the streets of Venice, down alleys, over bridges, eager to get to the hotel, where they could achieve the fulfilment that awaited them, that they longed for.

At last they reached the hotel, hurrying through the entrance and across to the lift.

Sally appeared, calling, ‘Ah, Mario, can I talk to you—?'

‘Not now,' Mario called back.

They vanished into the lift, clinging to each other as it carried them up.

‘Nearly there,' he said hoarsely.

‘Yes, nearly there.'

She knew he meant they were almost at his bedroom, but to her the words meant far more. The glorious destination that had waited for them since the moment they'd met—they were nearly there.