Reunited with Her Italian Ex Page 13

  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, indicati
ng 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.

  They had reached the room. He flung open the door, drew her inside and began to undress her at once. She responded instantly, wrenching off his jacket, pulling open his buttons, tearing off his shirt.

  They fell onto the bed, still working on each other’s clothes until they were both naked and ready for each other.

  ‘You’re mine,’ he said huskily. ‘Now and for ever.’

  ‘Yes—yes—’

  She was dizzy with passion and delight, wanting him more than she had ever wanted anything in her life. Their previous lovemaking had been wonderful, but this one was pervaded by an extra sense of triumph.

  She reached for him, offered herself to him, claimed him, and sensed his delight not only through his movements but by the glow in his eyes. His lovemaking was tender, emotional, and at first this was enough. But soon she wanted more. She was his, heart and body, and with every movement she demanded that he accept the gift and return it. When he claimed her finally she cried out with joy.

  Afterwards, lying contentedly in his arms, feeling the warmth of his flesh and the gentle power of his embrace, she knew that she had come to the place that was always meant for her, and where she could live happily for the rest of her life.

  She had meant to tell him about the letter, but things beyond her control had swept her up. Was that an omen? she wondered. Should she try to tell him now?

  ‘My love,’ she murmured.

  ‘My love,’ he echoed, ‘if you knew how wonderful it is to hear you call me that. I am your love and you are mine.’ He stroked her breast. ‘I was afraid this would never happen,’ he whispered.

  ‘It’s not the first time we’ve made love,’ she reminded him.

  ‘No, but it’s the first time we’ve made love like this, with all doubts settled, all fears gone, everything open and clear between us. When you told me that you trusted me I felt as if I’d gone to heaven.’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I feel like that too.’

  ‘And we must keep it that way. We lost two years, but we mustn’t lose any more time. We must marry as soon as possible.’

  ‘Marry,’ she said in wonder.

  ‘I told you yesterday that we should set the date. You didn’t give me an answer. Are you trying to put me off?’

  She glanced down the bed at their naked entwined figures. ‘Does it look as if I’m trying to put you off?’

  ‘I just want to be sure of you. Say yes. Say yes.’

  ‘Oh, yes. Yes, with all my heart.’

  ‘Now we’ve found each other,’ he whispered, ‘nothing can ever come between us.’

  He kissed her again before saying, ‘I’ve just remembered—you had something you were trying to say to me.’

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘Yes, it sounded urgent but I kind of distracted you.’ He grinned, recalling the way he’d grasped hold of her and made her run.

  ‘I suppose you could call this a distraction,’ she agreed, smiling.

  ‘So what were you going to say?’

  Natasha’s head was whirling. This was the moment she’d planned to lay bare the secret, but suddenly everything seemed different. To speak of it now would be to let Tania intrude on them again, and she was determined never to let that happen.

  ‘Natasha?’ he murmured.

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘Are you awake?’

  ‘Er…no. I—must have dozed off again. Did you say something?’

  ‘I asked you what you’d been planning to tell me.’

  ‘I can’t remember. It’s gone out of my head now, so it can’t have meant much.’

  ‘It’s just that you made it sound important.’

  ‘No, it couldn’t be.’ She touched his face. ‘Only one thing is important now.’

  ‘And that’s us,’ he agreed. ‘You’re right. Nothing else matters. Come here.’

  She did so, taking refuge in his arms and his love, so that the rest of the world ceased to exist.

  The letter didn’t matter, she decided. This was how it would always be.

  *

  She opened her eyes next morning to find Mario regarding her anxiously
.

  ‘You did mean it, didn’t you?’ he asked. ‘You really will marry me?’

  ‘No,’ she teased. ‘I was just making fun of you. Oh, don’t look like that. Of course I meant it. Would I have said it otherwise?’

  ‘I can’t be sure with you. You always seem to have a surprise to spring on me. I get nervous waiting for the next one.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ She regarded him with wicked humour. ‘Let’s see now. I could always thump you.’

  ‘But that wouldn’t be a surprise. You’ve already thumped me so often in different ways.’

  ‘So maybe it’s time to find another way. How about that?’ She delivered a light pat on his shoulder.

  ‘Ouch!’ he cried comically. ‘Now I’m in agony.’

  ‘Good. Then I’ll know how to bully you in future.’

  She patted him again and they both burst into laughter.

  ‘I don’t believe this is real,’ he said against her neck. ‘Nobody could be as happy as I am now. It’s an illusion.’

  ‘No, we’re going to teach the world what happiness looks like.’

  ‘Mmm, that sounds nice. Can I thump you back?’

  ‘Permission granted.’

  He rolled her onto her stomach and lightly patted her behind. ‘You be careful,’ he said, ‘or I’ll do it again.’

  ‘Is that a promise?’ she chuckled.

  ‘It’s whatever you want.’

  He was right, she thought, nestling contentedly against him. Nobody was allowed to be as happy as this. It must be an illusion. And she would do everything in her power to make it last.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ENTERING THE BREAKFAST room downstairs, they found Damiano, Sally and Pietro waiting for them. They all looked up, eager for news.

  ‘Have you got something to tell us?’ Damiano asked. ‘Sally seemed to think you might have.’

  ‘You mean after she tried to talk to me yesterday and we dashed upstairs?’ Mario said. ‘Sorry, Sally. It was urgent.’

  ‘Well, I gathered that,’ she chuckled. ‘So come on, tell us.’

  ‘We’re going to be married,’ he announced. ‘Natasha has decided she can put up with me.’

  Pietro cried, ‘Yippee!’

  Sally hugged Natasha, and Damiano declared cheerfully, ‘Welcome to the family, Natasha. We’re all delighted that you’re going to take charge of Mario and turn him into a sensible man.’