Unmasking Elena Montella (8 page)

‘
Yes. You don’t mind, do you? You’ll get more work done without me hanging around, you know you will. And we can always meet up for lunch or dinner,’ she said, trying to be as persuasive as possible.

‘
God!’ he sighed. ‘I don’t know why I bothered coming!’

‘
Yes you do,’ she said, aware that she had to change his mood pretty quickly or else they’d have another scene on their hands and Rosanna was bound to walk in right in the middle of it. ‘It’s because you love me.’

His frown eased a fraction and she wound her fingers through his hair.

‘
Okay,’ he said at last. ‘I’ll book a hotel.
But
, I want to see you every day. I don’t want you disappearing on me like you do back at home.’

‘
Whatever you say, Lord Reuben!’ she smiled. His name was Reuben Lord but, with his slightly pompous nature, she’d always thought Lord Reuben far more suitable.

‘
All right if I have a shower?’ he asked. ‘Mr high and mighty wouldn’t begrudge me that, would he?’

‘
As long as you’re quick. There are towels under the sink, but only take one. I don’t want Rosanna having an excuse to get worked up.’

Reuben groaned. ‘God, I’m only having a shower. I’m not throwing a wild party!’

‘
I know. I know! It’s just – well – you don’t know what Rosanna can be like.’

He bent down to give her a kiss. ‘And you’ll get into something slightly more attractive, okay? I’m going to take you out to dinner.’

Elena hadn’t really brought anything suitable for dining out in as she hadn’t planned to do anything but eat pizza. She went upstairs and opened the wardrobe, whistling as she saw the collection of clothes. Rosanna had moved in good and proper.

Elena’s hand pushed through the rich velvets and sumptuous silks. She was spoilt for choice. Besides, she reasoned, Rosanna hardly ever wore any of it which was a great shame because she could look like a movie star when she put her mind to it, but she chose to wear nothing but neutrals during the day. Elena had lost count of the number of black skirts and white shirts Rosanna owned. Occasionally, she’d break out into blue but nothing got more exciting than that, which was why Elena was so surprised to find crimsons, amethysts and golds in the wardrobe.

She pulled out a long velvet indigo dress and held it up for inspection. It was lucky that they were the same size because Elena didn’t have the sort of money to buy such nice things at the moment.

She was just pulling the dress over her head when she heard voices downstairs. Rosanna was back. And she was talking to Reuben.

Elena rushed out of the room and ran down the stairs as quickly as was possible in the tight dress.

‘
Rosanna?’ she called. ‘Is that you?’ It was a silly question but she just wanted to stop her from talking to Reuben.

‘
Yes! Of course it’s me! Who else could it possibly be?’

Rosanna was standing in the middle of the living room, her hands on her hips and a deep frown etched across her forehead. She was staring at Reuben who was wearing nothing but a towel. And a scowl.

He turned and glared at her, his eyes dark and full of anger.

‘
Elena –
who the hell is Mark?
’

Elena’s heart beat faster than was healthy as she stared at Reuben. ‘What’s she been saying to you?’ she asked.

‘
Does it matter what Rosanna’s said? I want to hear what
you
have to say, Elena!’

‘
He says he’s not Mark, Elena, yet he’s engaged to you!’ Rosanna cried. ‘How can this be? I don’t understand!’

‘
Shut up a minute, Rosanna!’

‘
Don’t you tell me to shut up! I go out for five minutes and come back to find a naked man in the apartment. A naked man who says he’s your fiancé but who says his name’s Reuben! I need to know what’s going on here!’

‘
So do I!’ Reuben shouted, his arms folded across his bare chest and his dark hair dripping down his shoulders.

‘
Reuben! I think you should put some clothes on,’ Elena said, her voice incredibly calm considering she had no idea what she was going to say. ‘Put some clothes on and I’ll explain everything to you.’

‘
Talking of clothes,’ Rosanna shouted, ‘what the hell are you doing wearing my dress?’

Rosanna had got the shock of her life when returning to the apartment.

‘
Elena?’ she’d called as she’d walked up the steps into the living room. ‘I hope you’ve been thinking about things whilst I’ve been out.’

Rosanna stopped in shock at the top of the steps at the sight of a half-naked man in the living room wearing nothing but a towel. Her mouth opened wide but no sound came out. She just stared. Who the hell was he? And what was he doing in Sandro’s apartment? She’d only been out a few minutes and, as far as she knew, Elena hadn’t left the apartment at all, so this man couldn’t possibly be a burglar who just happened to have taken a shower.

‘
Porca Madonna
!’ she managed at last. ‘Who are you?’

‘
You must be Rosanna,’ he said calmly, in perfect English.

‘
Yes,’ she said, trying to work out who this drenched god was. And then she remembered her words of warning to Elena. How she’d explicitly told her not to go inviting anyone to stay. Of course! This must be her fiancé from England. Well, it seemed obvious to her that Elena had planned all this before she’d even come out here. She could see it all now - Elena had come on her own first and, what was the delightful English phrase she used - to
butter her up
? Then, her fiancé would show up and the two of them would have a fabulous free holiday at Sandro’s expense. Elena hadn’t wanted to spend time with her at all, had she? Rosanna was just part of some scheme of hers.

‘
I’m sorry about this,’ the man said. ‘I didn’t plan this as an introduction.’

Rosanna shook her head. There was a slight blush around his cheeks and along his throat. She swallowed hard, trying not to let her eyes slide down his chest. He was incredibly attractive: raven-dark shoulder-length hair, wet from the shower - the water droplets sparkling like jewels; eyes dark as any Italian’s but set in an alabaster face - not a sickly, pasty white like some English men’s but that aristocratic white you see in old portraits in stately homes. Whatever Rosanna suspected about Elena, she couldn’t blame
him
for it. He probably had no idea what he was letting himself in for by getting engaged to her.

‘
It’s okay,’ she said. ‘Do you want another towel?’ she asked and then bit her lip. What sort of a thing was that to say?

‘
I am dripping a bit, aren’t she?’

‘
Oh! I didn’t mean -’

‘
It’s okay. No, I’d love another towel. Thank you.’

At least that had given her something to do - some temporary distraction from his half-naked godliness. It wasn’t every day that she got to meet such attractive men, and without even having to leave the apartment. The men she usually got to meet were overweight, overpaid businessmen with great, fat hands and stomachs that bulged up against their easels. She couldn’t help feeling just a little bit envious of Elena.

Rosanna peeped at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and he caught her eye. She felt herself blushing. This was ridiculous. What was she thinking of? This was her sister’s fiancé and here she was having all sorts of impure thoughts about him! About how masculine his arms looked, and how his waist was so slim, how long his fingers were and...

She shook her head and bit her lip. She wasn’t going to go there; she refused to let her mind wander into realms it had no business wandering in. And then she remembered her manners.

‘
I believe congratulations are in order,’ she said, the fact that this was her future brother-in-law standing before her dawning on her at last.

A beautiful smile crossed his face and his dark eyes glittered. ‘Oh! Elena’s told you already?’

‘
Yes!’ she said, pulling a white towel out for him.

‘
Thank you,’ he said, roughly drying his hair before brushing the towel over his chest and arms.

‘
Have you set a date yet?’ she dared to ask.

‘
Er - no. Not yet. That’s kind of why I’ve come out here,’ he said, suddenly looking quite shy.

‘
Oh? Are you thinking of getting married in Venice?’

He smiled. ‘I hadn’t thought about that, but it’s a great idea.’

She smiled back at him, trying to picture him in a gondola with Elena. ‘It would be very romantic,’ she said, a wave of jealousy engulfing her. Corrado hadn’t once talked about getting engaged let alone setting a date for a wedding but she couldn’t really blame him. She hadn’t exactly been the most loving of girlfriends of late. Still, it was strange to think of Elena getting married. Rosanna had always known she would, of course, but this was all happening so fast. Hadn’t she just met this man?

‘
You work at the same college as her, don’t you?’ she asked, trying to steer the conversation back to small talk.

He frowned, his dark eyes seeming darker all of a sudden. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m an artist.’

‘
Really? Oh!’ she blinked in surprise. She’d obviously got confused somewhere along the line. She’d thought Elena’s fiancé was a teacher - like her. ‘So you teach art at the college?’ she asked, taking his wet towel from him and walking back through to the living room.

There was a pause before he answered. ‘No! I’m an artist,’ he said again.

She stared at him and she could feel her mouth dropping open once more. ‘But you’re Mark, no?’

‘
NO!’ he shouted. ‘
I’m Reuben
.’

‘
Reuben?
’

‘
Yes!’ he said, his hands firm on his hips and his face set rigid.

‘
Oh!’ she said. What else could she say? It was one of those moments when you wish to become instantly invisible, when you’d give anything to take back what you’d just said. But there was no getting out of this now. Her words were out and this Reuben guy, whom she’d thought was Mark, was expecting some kind of explanation from her and she didn’t have one.

‘
What
the hell’s
going on? I thought you said Elena told you we were engaged?’

Rosanna’s heartrate accelerated. Something was terribly wrong here. Had she made a huge mistake? Was she confused? She looked around the apartment, wondering where on earth Elena was, and it was at that moment that she waltzed down from the bedroom. It got a bit confusing then because, for a few minutes, they were all shouting at each other at once.

‘
Elena! Who the hell is Mark?’

‘
Mark? What have you been saying, Rosanna?’

‘
Don’t blame me! What am I meant to think when I come back to find a stranger in the apartment wearing nothing but a towel?’

‘
Is this Mark someone you work with? Is that why you never let me meet you at the school?’

‘
Don’t be ridiculous, Reuben! Mark has got nothing to do with-’

‘
Your sister seems to think that you’re engaged to him!’

And on it went: questions, threats, recriminations until:

‘
QUIET!
’ Elena suddenly yelled.

Rosanna bit back what she was about to say next and decided it was probably better to say no more until this was sorted out - one way or another.

‘
Listen!’ Elena began. ‘There’s been a dreadful misunderstanding here. Reuben - please don’t look so serious. I told Rosanna about our engagement this morning.’

‘
So, what’s all this about some bloke called Mark?’ he interrupted.

It was exactly the question Rosanna wanted to ask her.

‘
He’s just someone I work with. I don’t know, we were just talking about my job and he came up. But that’s it.’

Rosanna glared at Elena but she fired back a look which warned her away from their discussion of that morning.