Reunited with Her Italian Ex (11 page)

‘It means would you like some more wine?'

‘Yes, please. It's delicious.'

She sipped the wine, enjoying its excellent taste and the feeling that things might be going well at last.

He watched her, wondering at the smile on her face, unwilling to ask about it. There might be more pleasure in wondering.

When at last they rose and walked on he put an arm around her shoulder, saying, ‘Are you all right? Not too cold?'

‘I'm all right,' she said, looking up. ‘Not too cold, not too anything. Everything's perfect.'

He gave a soft chuckle. ‘Does that mean I haven't offended you recently?'

She looked up at him teasingly. ‘Not that I can think of.'

‘You can usually think of something.'

They smiled and moved on.

She barely noticed where they were going. It was like being in a new world. Nothing was the same. His voice had a note of warmth that she had never noticed before, and his eyes held a gleam that promised much.

‘It's lovely out here,' she sighed.

‘Yes,' he murmured in her ear. ‘It's lovely, and you're lovely.'

‘You have to feel sorry for Romeo and Juliet, who could never take this kind of walk, just enjoying being together and letting the world drift by.'

‘I guess we're luckier than they were.'

She turned to look up into his face. ‘Yes,' she said. ‘We're lucky. We were always lucky, if only we'd known it.'

His fingertips brushed her face gently. ‘I always knew it,' he said. ‘Now I know it even more since I had to endure life without you. I thought I'd never see you again, and the future was nothing but a terrible blank. But then you were there again and I had my life back. Suddenly, there was something to hope for.'

‘Yes, for me too,' she said. ‘But sometimes I can be afraid to hope.'

‘Better not to hope at all, than hope and have it destroyed,' he said.

‘No, I don't believe that. Wonderful things can happen when you least expect it. You have to be ready for the best as well as the worst, and then— Oh, Mario, Mario!'

She was silenced by his mouth over hers.

‘Be mine,' he whispered. ‘Tell me that you're mine.'

‘I always was. I always will be.'

‘Do you really mean that?'

‘Yes—yes—'

‘Say it again. Make me believe it.'

‘I'm yours—all yours—yours—'

‘For ever. I won't let you go. I warn you, I'm possessive.'

‘You couldn't be too possessive for me,' she assured him.

His answer was another kiss which she returned with fervour.

A group of young people passed by, cheering and clapping at the sight of them.

‘It's too public out here,' she said.

‘Yes, let's go home.'

They slipped back into the hotel without being seen. She was glad. What was happening now was for them alone.

He came with her as far as the apartment, then stopped at the door, regarding her uncertainly.

‘Don't go,' she said, holding him in a gentle but determined hug. ‘Stay with me.'

‘Natasha, do you mean that?'

‘Yes, I mean it.'

‘But don't you realise that—if I stay—no, you don't realise. I mustn't stay.'

‘Yes, you must,' she whispered. ‘I say you must, and I won't let you refuse me.'

It hurt her to see how tense and vulnerable he seemed. After all the hostility that had simmered between them he couldn't believe that she was really opening her arms to him; even perhaps opening her heart. It was what he wanted but something he couldn't dare believe too easily, and she longed to reach out from her heart and reassure him.

‘Trust me,' she murmured. ‘Things move on. Nothing stays the same for ever.'

‘Are you telling me that something really has changed?' he asked.

‘In a way. I've learned to be more understanding. I was always so sure I was right, but now—now I feel like a different person. I have so much still to learn.'

She took a step back through the door, holding out her hand.

‘Come in,' she said. ‘Come with me—stay with me.'

He still could not understand her, but he put his hand in hers and followed her in perfect trust.

‘Yes,' he said. ‘Take me with you. Let me stay.'

His mouth was on hers, making her rejoice with heart, mind and body equally. There was pleasure but there was also a fierce possessiveness. She wanted him and she was determined to have him. She had waited as long as she could endure and now she was determined to enjoy her conquest.

With the door safely closed against the outside world, Mario felt able to yield to his longing and take her in his arms. Yet doubts and confusion still whirled about him.

‘I don't believe this is happening,' he whispered. ‘I've dreamed of it so often, so hopelessly.'

‘Not hopelessly,' she told him. ‘I've dreamed too. Dreams can come true. Let us believe that.'

‘Yes, while I have you in my arms I can believe it.'

She drew his head down, kissing him with fervour and passion, rejoicing in his response. Gradually he began to move towards the bed, easing her down onto it so that they lay together. When she felt him start to undo her clothes she was there before him, pulling open buttons, inviting him to explore her.

He accepted the invitation, tentatively at first, caressing her gently, almost uncertainly. But as his hands discovered the soft smoothness of her skin their touch became more fervent, more intense, sending tremors through her. She reached out to him, now working on his buttons so that his shirt fell open and she could explore him in her turn.

Once, long ago in Venice, she had dreamed of this. But fate had denied her dream, banishing her into a wilderness where there was no love, no hope, no Mario.

Now, at last, the moment had come and it was everything she'd wanted. His caress was tentative, almost as though he feared to touch her.

She understood. In the depths of her heart joy was warring with disbelief, scared that this might not really be true, that she would wake to find it a delusion. And it was the same with him. Instinct too deep for thought told her this was true. After so long their hearts and minds were as one, just as their bodies would soon unite.

He laid his face against her. She drew him closer, wanting this moment to last.

‘Yes,' she murmured. ‘Yes.'

‘Yes,' he echoed. ‘Natasha—are you sure?'

‘I'm sure of everything—sure that I want you—'

He gave a faint smile. ‘Are you sure I want you? Or shall I try to convince you?'

‘I don't need convincing.' She returned his smile in full measure. ‘But don't let me stop you.'

‘Whatever you please, ma'am,' he murmured, intensifying his caresses.

Her pleasure rioted, but more than pleasure was the joy of knowing that they were close again. The man she had loved long ago had been stolen from her, but now she had him back. And she would never let him go again. The world might turn upside down. The heavens might fall, the seas overflow, but she would never release him from her arms and her heart. On that she was resolved.

He worked eagerly on her clothes until nothing was left. Then he removed his own garments and they were naked together. He took her into his arms, kissing her mouth, her face, her neck, then going lower to smother her breasts in kisses. She took long breaths of delight at the storm growing within her, longing for the moment when he would claim her completely. When it came, it was everything she'd hoped.

CHAPTER NINE

A
S
THE
FIERCE
excitement died they lay quietly, holding each other, coming to terms with the new world in which they found themselves. Gradually they fell into peaceful sleep, lying motionless together until the room grew lighter and the new day had come.

Mario was lying with his face hidden against her neck, but then he raised it and looked down at her.

She met his eyes, seeing in them a look of loving possessiveness that made her heart skip a beat.

‘Natasha,' he murmured, almost as though trying to believe that it was really her. She knew how he felt, for she was feeling the same herself. She had told him they must believe that dreams could come true.

‘I've wanted this from the first moment,' he whispered. ‘But I'd given up hope. And then suddenly—beyond my wildest dreams—why?'

‘The time was right,' she whispered. ‘Couldn't you feel that?'

‘I've often felt it, but I was always wrong before. Suddenly—everything became different between us.'

‘Everything became as it should be,' she said. ‘This is how it was always meant to be.'

‘You really mean that? Natasha, I'm not deluding myself, am I? Things are really all right between us?'

‘How can you ask me that? After the way we've spent the last night, don't you think everything is all right?'

‘Oh, yes.' He gave a wry smile. ‘But I didn't mean that. I meant the other things that have come between us and separated us in the past. You didn't believe what I told you about Tania, that I'd broken with her because I'd met you and you were the one I wanted. Please, please say that you believe me, that you trust me at last.'

‘I trust you, my darling. I should have trusted you long ago, but I was blind. It was like being lost in a maze. Every time I thought I'd found a way out it just led to more confusion.'

She promised herself that one day soon she would tell him about Tania's letter, and the way it had confirmed everything he said. But she didn't want thoughts of Tania to intrude just now. She wanted only Mario, the warmth, beauty and contentment they could find together.

‘You trust me,' he echoed as though trying to believe it. ‘And you're mine.'

‘I'm yours.'

‘For always?'

‘Always and for ever.'

‘Then everything's perfect.'

‘Not quite,' she said. ‘Don't you have an “always and for ever” promise to make me?'

‘Of course. I just didn't think you needed to hear it said. I'm so completely yours that—'

He was interrupted by the sound of his mobile phone. Sighing, he answered it, speaking in Italian. Natasha didn't understand the language, but she understood that the caller was Mario's brother, Damiano.

‘Come stai, fratello?'
Mario said cheerfully.
‘Come è Sally e il bambino?'

After listening a moment he gave Natasha a thumbs-up sign.

‘They've set the christening for this weekend,' he told her. ‘I'm going and they want me to take you.'

‘They want me? But how—?'

‘Yes or no?'

‘Yes. Oh, yes.'

‘Damiano—Natasha
dice di sì. Va bene!
'
He hung up.

‘I don't understand,' she said. ‘How did they even think of inviting me?'

‘You mean how did they know you were here, and we'd found each other again?' He became a little awkward. ‘When I went there for the birth a while ago I may have mentioned you briefly.'

She gave him a glance of wicked humour. ‘Yes, I can imagine what you said. “That pesky woman has turned up again, when I thought I'd got rid of her.”'

‘Something like that,' he said with a grin.

‘I'd give a lot to have been a fly on the wall.'

‘You'd probably have had a good laugh. I talked about you non-stop. When I told them how amazed I was when our publicist turned out to be you, Damiano roared with laughter. And Sally wanted to know everything. She thinks it's a great joke to see me conquered by a woman.'

‘But I haven't tried to conquer you.'

‘Of course. If you had tried I'd have fought back and we wouldn't be talking like this now. But you caught me unaware, and I was finished before I knew it.'

And before I knew it
, she thought. His words struck a disturbing chord within her.

‘
I remember everything so vividly,' he said. ‘Our first meeting—you were sitting in the restaurant of Damiano's hotel when I came in. You were so lovely I just stopped and stared at you. Suddenly you looked up and saw me. And you smiled. Such a lovely smile, as though I was the only person in the room—in the world.

‘I didn't understand straight away what had happened to me. But I did know that suddenly the world was focused on you.'

‘And you came and sat down at the table,' she remembered. ‘You said that you worked in the hotel and were offering your services—'

‘That was just an excuse to talk to you, find out all I could about you. Were you married, was a man coming to join you? I hung on your every answer as though my life depended on it. And now I realise that my life did depend on it. And then—'

‘What is it?' she asked, for he suddenly seemed troubled.

‘It all happened again, didn't it? When you came here I asked you the same questions the first evening.'

‘You said would a man turn up to drag me home?' she remembered.

‘Yes, it sounded like the practical questions of an employer, but in fact I had this terrible need to know if there was someone in your life, just like the first time. It shocked me. I couldn't believe it had happened again—'

‘With a woman you hated,' she said gently.

‘I didn't hate you. I told myself I did because I needed to believe it. That was my defence and I clung to it. But things change and—well—'

‘I wonder how much things change,' she murmured. ‘Or do they only seem to have changed because
we
have changed?'

‘Maybe we've changed in some things but not in others.'

‘I wonder which is which.'

‘We might find that out in Venice.'

‘Mmm. So Sally thinks we're a joke. Yes, it's like fate played a joke on us. Sometimes I almost fancy I can hear laughter echoing from the heavens at the way we fell for it.'

‘We didn't fall for it,' he said, drawing her close. ‘We won. Fate lost. When Sally sees us together she'll understand that we're having the last laugh.'

‘You really want me to come to Venice with you?'

‘I think it's important that we go back there together.'

She understood. By returning they would confront their memories and that would help to show them the way forward.

‘
Everything that happened there looks different now,' she said.

‘Yes,' he agreed gladly. ‘So different. So much happier. The sooner we go the better. Then we can have a few days before the christening.'

At once he called Venice again, to say they would be arriving that evening. Then he stopped, regarding Natasha uneasily.

‘Sally says one room or two?' he said. ‘What's your choice?'

She was suddenly struck by inspiration. ‘I'd like the same room I had last time.'

‘That's a single room.'

‘Perhaps we should be a little discreet.'

He seemed about to protest, but then understanding dawned and he turned back to the phone. At last he hung up.

‘She's fixing it.'

‘Does she think I'm crazy?'

‘No, she said it made a lot of sense to put the clock back. I don't need to ask what that means, do I?'

‘I don't think you do.'

‘Let's get packing.'

* * *

Not long after, they bid farewell to Giorgio and set off for the Verona railway station to catch the train. It was just over seventy miles, and an hour and a half passed before they found themselves on the causeway that led over the water from the mainland to Venice.

She remembered the last time she had made this journey, leaning out of the window to see the beautiful buildings grow closer. How excited she'd been during that journey, how thrilled at the thought of spending time in the magical city.

At Venice station Mario hailed a water taxi and soon they were on their way to the hotel on the Grand Canal.

‘There it is,' he said, pointing forward. ‘Remember?'

‘Yes, I remember,' she breathed.

It was a magnificent building, a converted palace that seemed to sum up everything that was glamorous about Venice. As soon as they entered Damiano and Sally came to meet them. Damiano and Mario slapped each other on the shoulders in brotherly fashion, while Sally embraced Natasha.

‘It's lovely to see you again,' she said. ‘And Pietro has really looked forward to your return. He says when you were last here you used to talk to him about football.'

‘That's right. And last night England played Italy.' Natasha chuckled. ‘Luckily, Italy won.'

Pietro appeared. He was in his early teens, already looking strikingly like his father, and full of beans.

‘Did you see the match?' he challenged at once, after which perfect communication was established between them.

‘How's Toby?' she asked, meaning Pietro's spaniel, who had helped bring Damiano and Sally together.

‘Here he is,' Pietro said eagerly, drawing his furry friend forward.

She greeted Toby, received his welcoming lick and looked up to find Mario watching them with a pleased smile, as though everything was working out as he'd hoped.

Then Sally took them to see the two children she'd borne her husband—little Franco, nearly three years old, whose birth had nearly cost her life, and Elena, the little girl she'd borne recently.

‘Supper's in half an hour,' Sally said.

As promised, Natasha had the same room as before which, at first, gave her a slightly weird ghostly feeling. But it soon faded against the different, happier, reality of the present. Mario's room was just a few feet along the corridor, and soon he appeared to escort her downstairs to Damiano's private dining room.

It was clear to Natasha that she was being welcomed into the family. During the meal that followed she was toasted as an honoured guest.

‘Wait till you see the church where we'll have the christening,' Pietro said. ‘It's where Mamma and Papà got married.'

‘That was quite a ceremony,' Mario recalled. ‘Toby was there too, practically one of the witnesses.'

‘I'm sure he performed his role perfectly,' Natasha said.

As she spoke she tickled Toby's head and was rewarded with a
woof!

It was a happy evening. A sense of peace came over her as she realised yet again the true purpose of this trip: to put right the mistakes and misunderstandings of the past.

Only Sally's brother Charlie was missing, which Sally explained with sisterly frankness. ‘Out making himself objectionable again.'

‘What kind of objectionable?' Natasha asked, laughing.

‘Women, gambling—you name it, he can do it. Mind you, he's not as bad as he was. Mario helped reform him a bit.'

‘Me? Reform?' Mario squeaked. ‘That's practically an insult.'

‘Well, Damiano told me you had a “guardian angel” side, and you did keep Charlie on the straight and narrow—more or less. Time for bed, anyway.'

The party broke up. Mario announced that he and Natasha wanted to take a walk. The others nodded in perfect understanding and slipped away.

‘A walk?' she queried.

‘Maybe. Maybe not.'

‘What was the idea—?'

‘I wanted to be sure of being alone with you. Let's have a coffee. Not here—in the restaurant.'

It was almost closing time and most of the restaurant tables were empty. At once she knew why he'd brought her here. There in the corner was the table where she'd sat at their first meeting. He led her over, showed her to a seat and sat beside her. A waiter brought them coffee.

‘You were just here by the window,' he said. ‘I watched you for a few minutes, trying to believe my eyes, rather like that guy over there.'

He pointed to a young man standing just inside the door, his eyes fixed on another table just a few feet away from them, where sat a young woman in her twenties. She was beautiful, and she was alone.

‘I can guess what he's thinking,' Mario said. ‘He's working out a good excuse to approach her.'

‘You can't know what he's thinking.'

‘Oh, yes, I can. When I look at him I see myself. In fact, I see every guy trying to summon up the courage to approach a woman he knows is going to matter more than any other. Look, there he goes.'

As they watched, the young man approached the girl and gestured to ask if anyone was sitting with her. She shook her head and he took a seat.

‘Does he work here?' Natasha asked.

‘No, he'll have to think of another excuse. He doesn't seem to be doing too badly.'

Amused, they watched the couple for a few minutes. Then Mario said with a touch of unease, ‘There's something I keep wanting to ask you.'

‘What is it?'

He hesitated, then said, ‘What happened to you after we parted? I know you worked hard and Jenson gave you a bad time, but was there—anything else?'

‘You mean another man? But I've already told you about that.'

‘You've told me you're not married, you haven't settled down with anyone, but that's not what I meant.'

She gave a gentle chuckle. ‘You mean am I secretly yearning for someone? Take a guess.'