Lose Yourself (The Desires Unlocked Trilogy Part Two) (8 page)

They climb the steps and her rescuer takes a key from his pocket and unlocks the front door. They enter the hall with the flickering light bulb.

‘You’re still shaking,’ the stranger says to her. ‘Would you like some brandy? I have some cognac in my room.’

‘No, thank you; I just want to go to bed,’ she whispers. ‘I want to forget what happened.’

They start to climb the stairs. She hesitates on the second landing. He is still behind her. She turns to him. Now she can see him even more clearly in the electric light. He is older than she initially thought, but he is still extremely handsome: tall and powerful, black hair peppered with grey, and strong espresso eyes.

‘Please don’t tell anyone about this,’ she says, looking down and blushing.

‘Are you not going to tell Mademoiselle Mournier?’

Maria shakes her head. For some reason, she feels her own naïvety is somewhat at fault here. She doesn’t want Jacqueline to have a reason not to let her out again or, worse still, tell her mother and Pina what has happened.

‘OK,’ the stranger says. And then he does something surprising. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket and dries her eyes with it, tenderly as if she were his child.

‘I think that you might need looking after, Maria,’ he says, scrunching the handkerchief up in his hand.

She looks at him in wonder. She has never met such a gallant man. ‘You know my first name?’

‘Of course I know your name! We are neighbours.’ He smiles at her.

Maria’s heart flutters when she sees his laughter lines appearing at the corners of his eyes. How old is he? Thirty? Older, even? And yet she feels wildly attracted to him, despite her recent assault.

‘I am Felix Leduc,’ he says.

So this is the mysterious French man that Guido had referred to. She had forgotten about his existence, for she has neither seen nor heard him once since she arrived.

‘Good night, Maria,’ he says, waiting for her to climb the stairs to the top floor and Jacqueline’s apartment.

‘Good night; and thank you, Felix.’ His name feels strange in her mouth – tactile. She walks up the staircase, aware of his eyes on her back, afraid to look back in case he sees the truth in her eyes. For Maria is quite certain that she has just met the man of her dreams.

Valentina twists and turns in bed. It’s no good;
she can’t sleep. She sits up and switches on the bedside lamp. She looks across the room at Antonella in the other bed and she can see that her friend is fast asleep. She wonders whether she should wake her up and tell her about Theo. But Antonella might still be drunk.

When Valentina had returned to the house in South Kensington last night, Antonella and Isabella were in the middle of a dramatic argument over Antonella’s father and whether he was the big bastard Antonella claimed he was. The drink had fuelled their emotions and the women ranted and raved at each other in Italian. Finally, a neighbour banging on the wall had silenced them. Valentina encouraged the two of them to go to bed and sleep on it. The evening had ended with aunt and niece tearfully embracing and professing undying loyalty and love to each other. She is sure Antonella would not appreciate being woken up now she is in the middle of a deep sleep. Besides, Antonella has never been a fan of Theo. If she tells her that he has a new girlfriend, she is certain Antonella will advise Valentina to forget about him.

She knows she should. But she just can’t.

That moment when she saw him again – after all these months, and despite the circumstances – it was like being thumped in the chest. She had been unable to speak, utterly struck dumb. She had watched in disbelief as Anita had tottered over to Theo in her high heels and embraced him, planting a kiss on his lips. The whole time, Theo had been as silent as her, unsmiling, his eyes boring into her.

‘Theo,’ Anita said. ‘I want you to meet Valentina, my new friend.’

‘Actually, we know each other,’ Theo said stiffly.

‘You do?’ Anita looked between the two of them in surprise.

‘Yes, I knew Valentina when I lived in Milan,’ he said, frowning at Valentina, a questioning look on his face.

‘Well, isn’t that just amazing?’ Anita remarked, kissing Theo again on the cheek, the sweet impulsiveness of her action making Valentina’s heart constrict.

‘Maybe not such a coincidence, seeing as they both lived in Milan and are involved in the art world,’ Kirsti suggested. Valentina detected a certain irony in the gallery owner’s tone and wondered why.

‘So, you know all about Valentina, darling?’ Anita turned to Theo again.

‘I wouldn’t say that at all,’ Theo said, looking uncomfortable.

There was an awkward silence, as if both Kirsti and Anita sensed his unspoken inference.

‘How are you, Valentina?’ he added, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper.

She had been rooted to the spot, gazing at her lost lover, her chest tight, her throat constricted. She wanted so badly to touch him. ‘Fine.’ She could say no more.

‘It’s good to see you again,’ he said, his face suddenly illuminated by one of his enigmatic smiles.

Now Valentina can’t get those words out of her head: ‘It’s good to see you again.’
Had he really meant it? She had felt the same, despite the fact he is obviously unavailable. It was
so
good to actually see Theo again after all these months, and to know that he is OK. If only he wasn’t going out with Anita. She suspects, by his dumbfounded reaction to her presence in the gallery, that he still has some feelings for her at least, or was she imagining his confusion and shock? Yet, even if he does still have feelings for her, she should leave him alone now. He has a new girlfriend – Anita. She is obviously mad about Theo. One of Valentina’s rules is never to interfere between a couple. She doesn’t want to steal Theo from Anita, that would be wrong, and yet . . . What if he wants her as much as she wants him? What if Anita’s feelings are not reciprocated? There is only one person who can help her figure out what to do, and he is back in Milan. She glances at the radio alarm clock. It is one o’clock; that means it’s two in Milan. Better to call Leonardo now than in the morning, when he is sleeping. She pulls back the covers and gets out of bed, slipping on her silk kimono dressing gown before dropping her phone into its pocket and tiptoeing out of the bedroom. She pads downstairs and into Isabella’s living room, a plush cream space with a view of the gated park opposite. It is a windy night and, as she dials Leonardo’s number, she looks out of the window at the trees, their branches waving at her from across the road as if they are urging her on.

‘Valentina? Is everything all right?’

‘Oh, no, Leonardo; thank God you answered.’ She wishes so much that Leonardo were curled up on the couch with her. She realises that somehow their relationship has gone on to a deeper level, a real friendship, like how it is with Marco.

‘What’s wrong?’ He sounds genuinely concerned.

‘It’s Theo.’

Leonardo doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. ‘Did you call him up?’ He sounds tired – not his usual self.

‘I’m sorry; have I woken you?’

It occurs to Valentina that maybe their relationship is rather one-sided. She is always ringing Leonardo and asking for his help. When she thinks about it, he has not once phoned her and asked for her advice.

‘No, I’m fine . . .’ he says, hesitating. ‘There’s just stuff going on here . . . I’ll tell you when I see you. Now, tell me about Theo.’

‘Leonardo, I
saw
him today. A complete coincidence: he was at the gallery where the exhibition is on.’ She hesitates, not wanting to tell him about Anita just yet. ‘It was like I was struck down . . . like in one of those stupid Hollywood films . . . like I was hit by lightning, literally. I was just jolted awake; it felt so raw. Oh, Leo, I’ve been so stupid.’

‘But it’s good, isn’t it? Now you know for sure how you feel. Now you can tell him – get him back, like you want to.’

‘But it’s not as simple as I thought.’ She pauses, licking her lips. ‘He has a girlfriend.’

‘No, not Theo.’ Leonardo sounds surprised. ‘Maybe she is just a casual lover, but not a proper girlfriend. He has always wanted you, Valentina; I know that.’

‘You’re wrong. She really is his girlfriend. I met her,’ Valentina wails down the phone. ‘And she is so sweet and I know she is in love with him; I can see it.’

‘So what are you going to do, Valentina?’

Valentina chews her lip. Her heart is racing, her head thick with emotions. She knows now, without a doubt, that she loves Theo, but it’s too late. He is with Anita.

‘I don’t know,’ she whispers. ‘I was hoping you would tell me what to do.’

Leonardo sighs. ‘I can’t do that.’

‘Please, Leonardo, you’re so wise, and Theo confides in you. Please tell me what to do.’

‘Well . . .’ Leonardo says slowly, ‘you say this girl is in love with Theo, but is Theo in love with her?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He might be going out with her to make you jealous.’

‘That just doesn’t seem his style. We never did jealousy,’ Valentina muses.

‘He must have a plan,’ Leonardo says. ‘This is Theo we are talking about.’

‘But she is crazy about him . . .’

‘How can you be sure? I mean, you only met them together once. She might be like your friend, Antonella: all show but not much heart.’

‘That’s a bit of a mean thing to say,’ Valentina defends her friend. ‘You make her sound shallow.’

‘Valentina,’ Leonardo continues, ‘you have to find out how Theo feels about you; more importantly, you have to let him know how you feel. Once and for all, tell him you love him.’

‘Even though he is going out with someone else? Isn’t that a bitchy thing to do to another woman?’

‘That depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On whether you can live without him. If not, you have to fight for him, baby. Win him back.’

‘Oh, Leonardo,’ Valentina sighs. ‘I’m not sure. Maybe I should just come home – just continue the way things were.’

‘You were miserable, Valentina. Even all my sexual attentions couldn’t cheer you up.’

She closes her eyes, reliving the moment she saw Theo and how charged she had felt afterwards. She opens her eyes again, staring out of the window at the swaying trees in the park. ‘I miss you, Leonardo. I wish you were here.’

‘Believe me, so do I.’

She hears desperation in his voice and she wonders what ‘stuff’ is going on in his life. She knows he won’t tell her over the phone.

‘I wish we were in bed right now and you were consoling me,’ she says softly.

‘I could console you over the phone.’

‘Are you going to talk dirty to me, Signor Sorrentino?’

She hears the ticking of a silent line, and then Leonardo speaks again, but this time his voice has changed. This time it is Leonardo the dominator who is speaking to her. Her skin tingles with excitement as she closes her eyes and imagines his hard, dark eyes pinning her down.

‘What are you wearing, Valentina?’

‘My dressing gown.’

‘The blue one?’

‘Yes.’

‘And what else?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Are you completely naked?’

‘Yes.’

‘I want you to open up your dressing gown; I want to caress your breasts with your hands; pull on your nipples, feel them hardening. Now open up your legs.’

‘Yes,’ she whispers. ‘I’m doing it.’

‘Close your eyes and put your hand between your legs; stroke yourself, Valentina.’

She pushes her hand between her legs and spreads her fingers. She can feel her warmth, her need sensitising her fingertips.

‘It is me touching you, Valentina; can you feel me?’

‘Oh, yes.’

And he is with her, her friend, on Isabella’s couch, stroking her with his fine long fingers, soothing away her distress, her pain at seeing the love of her life with another woman.

‘Push your finger right up inside yourself, V. That’s me inside you, fucking you, making you feel me, right up into your tip.’

In the unlit living room of Antonella’s aunt, Valentina spreads her legs before the rustling city park opposite. She doesn’t care who sees her and her need, her ecstasy. She spins her fingers inside herself, increasing the pace, pushing herself further and further. One moment it is Leonardo beside her, and the next she sees Theo’s face, his enchanting smile, his eyes looking deep into hers. Yes, she believes he does still love her, but she can’t understand why he is with Anita. As she comes, she doubles over, spent and shivering. Anita had called herself Theo’s girlfriend, so he had found a girl not afraid of commitment. Was fate punishing Valentina? Is this what she deserves after the way she has treated him in the past? Theo is too good for her, she tries to convince herself; she should leave him alone in peace with someone sweet and giving, like Anita. And yet a fire is burning deep down in the pit of Valentina’s belly, and she knows it will burn all reason out of her. She wants him back.

Six hours later, Antonella and Valentina are drinking coffee. They are still sleepy-eyed, with Antonella nursing a hangover.

‘I don’t know how Aunty Isa managed to get up for work this morning,’ Antonella groans.

‘Here.’ Valentina throws over a packet of ibuprofen. ‘Take a couple of those; you’ll be fine.’

‘So, how was it at the gallery?’ Antonella asks her, as she pops two tablets out of their silver foil and into the palm of her hand.

Valentina can’t face going into the details. She is sure that Antonella would be fascinated to hear about Anita’s private dance, although not so thrilled to learn about Theo’s reappearance in her life. ‘OK,’ she says. ‘The show looks good. There are two pictures of you and Mikhail being exhibited.’

‘Great; I can’t wait to see it.’ Antonella gets up, pours a glass of water and knocks back the tablets. She sits down at the table and takes another swig of her coffee. ‘These pills had better work. I feel terrible.’

‘You were both very drunk, and shouting at each other.’ Valentina refills her coffee cup.

‘That’s what happens when my family get together; we’re a rowdy lot.’

Valentina watches her friend; she looks tired and vulnerable. Without her make-up on, Antonella seems so much younger than her twenty-eight years. She is usually so upbeat and positive, yet today her eyes are sad and heavy.

‘What exactly was the dispute over?’ Valentina asks her gently.

‘Aunty Isabella was trying to justify the fact that my father walked out on us when I was a child . . .’

Valentina frowns with annoyance. This is one thing that unites her and Antonella: they were both abandoned by their fathers when they were little. Although Antonella has seen her father a couple of times, his contact has been intermittent. After he left Antonella’s mother, he went to live in Argentina. ‘So what justification is there?’ Valentina says, her voice hardening with irritation at Antonella’s aunt.

‘She says that he did the right thing because there was such disharmony in our home. My parents were always shouting at each other.’ Antonella tugs her hand through her tangled red hair. ‘She claims that it’s better not to have had contact with my father than to have experienced my parents at each other’s throats my whole life . . .’

‘Were they really that bad?’

‘I don’t remember, Valentina. I was too little.’ Antonella offers her hands up to heaven. ‘And, you know, OK, I said that maybe she was right – they should have broken up . . . But to go off to Argentina . . . ? To walk out on us all like that . . . ? I said there was no excuse. But she claims that my mother’s new husband, my stepfather, wanted him out of the picture.’