Reunited with Her Italian Ex Page 14

  ‘Thanks, brother,’ Mario said, grinning.

  ‘By the time you discover your mistake it’ll be too late,’ Mario added. ‘He’ll have put the ring on your finger.’

  ‘And I’ll never let her take it off,’ Mario said.

  ‘You must marry here in Venice,’ Sally said. ‘After all, it’s where you met. It’ll be such fun to arrange.’

  ‘That’s very nice of you,’ Mario said, ‘but I think there’s another place that would be more right for us. In Verona, we can marry at Juliet’s house.’ He glanced at Natasha, who nodded, smiling.

  ‘Romeo and Juliet,’ Sally mused. ‘But you two can’t be Romeo and Juliet. You’re having a happy ending. I suppose there’s still time for something to go wrong, but it won’t.’

  ‘No, it won’t,’ Mario said. ‘We’re together, and now nothing is going to go wrong. She is my Juliet, and Verona is the right place for us.’

  Sally insisted on having a party for them that evening. Her warmth was a special blessing to Natasha. Her life had been lonely, with no relatives but her bitter mother. Now, suddenly, she had a brother and sister, and a cheeky nephew in Pietro.

  They laughed and danced their way through the party, spent the night nestled together, and set out for Verona the following morning.

  When Giorgio heard the news he roared with delight.

  ‘Romeo and Juliet made it at last! What a story.’

  ‘It’s not exactly a story,’ Mario protested.

  ‘It is to me. You hired me as your publicity manager, and I’m going to do my job. When you’ve fixed the date we’ll get some pictures.’

  ‘The date will be as soon as possible,’ Mario said.

  ‘It’ll have to be a Monday morning,’ Giorgio told him. ‘All wedding ceremonies are held then because the house has to be closed to tourists while it’s happening. Then we’ll have the reception here in the afternoon, and everyone in the Comunità will come.’

  Later that day they went to the City Hall to make the booking for two weeks’ time, and learned what they could about the wedding procedure. The actual ceremony would take place inside the building, with photographs taken afterwards, on the balcony.

  Giorgio was in his element, planning to broadcast the information as far and wide as possible.

  ‘This isn’t just a wedding,’ he said gleefully. ‘It’s the biggest publicity opportunity the Comunità has ever had. You really must make the best of it.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Mario said. ‘I’m happy for everyone to know that I’ve secured the best bride in the world.’

  But Natasha drew him aside, feeling some concern. ‘Jenson will get to hear of it,’ she said.

  ‘Good!’ Mario declared at once. ‘I want him to know that his bullying has achieved nothing. That should stop his nonsense.’

  ‘But suppose it doesn’t?’

  ‘Then I’ll make him sorry he was born. Don’t tell me you’re still afraid of him. You’re going to be my wife. There’s nothing more he can do.’ He took her in his arms. ‘Trust me, darling. You have nothing more to fear from him. I told you I’d scare the living daylights out of him, and I have.’

  ‘You scared Jenson? But how?’

  ‘By slashing his advertising revenue. There are several media outlets I’ve been able to persuade to drop their adverts. Some here, some owned by friends of mine elsewhere. It should be enough to put the wind up him.’

  ‘You did that for me?’ she breathed. ‘Oh, thank you—thank you.’

  Blazing with happiness, she threw her arms around his neck.

  ‘I told you I wouldn’t let you be hurt,’ he said. ‘And I won’t.’

  ‘So you really are my guardian angel?’

  ‘Angel? Not me. But I can put the wind up people when I want to.’

  Chuckling, they embraced each other.

  ‘It’s such a weight off my mind,’ she said. ‘To know that he won’t trouble me again.’

  Now her most urgent arrangement was choosing a wedding dress. At Giorgio’s orders, several gowns were delivered to the hotel for her to try on. She chose one of white satin, cut simply and elegantly.

  ‘Perfect,’ Giorgio declared when he saw it. ‘It’ll look great in the pictures. We must get started on them quickly.’

  It seemed strange to be taking wedding pictures before the wedding, but they were to be part of Giorgio’s publicity campaign to promote Verona as a wedding venue.

  ‘The photographer will be here tomorrow morning,’ Giorgio said. ‘He’s the same one who took the pictures of you as Romeo and Juliet. We’ll put the two sets of pictures out together. Romeo and Juliet became Mario and Natasha.’ He grinned. ‘Or perhaps they always were.’

  ‘Forget it,’ Mario said. ‘This story isn’t going to end in a tomb.’

  He was looking so handsome, Natasha thought as they posed together. For one picture she stood just in front of him, his hands on her shoulders as they both faced the camera. For another shot they danced together.

  ‘Don’t look so stern,’ Giorgio called. ‘Gaze into each other’s eyes. Look romantic.’

  ‘But why?’ Natasha teased. ‘We’re getting married. ‘That’s not romantic; it’s deadly serious.’

  ‘Stop that,’ Mario said. ‘I’m quite scared enough without you scaring me more.’

  She began to laugh. He joined in and Giorgio yelled with delight at the picture it produced.

  ‘That’s perfect,’ he said. ‘That says it all.’

  As he’d predicted, the two sets of pictures worked splendidly together. When circulated to the rest of the Comunità, they produced a flood of excited congratulations.

  There was one reaction Mario vowed to keep to himself. The text from Jenson was as spiteful as he’d expected, and he was thankful that Natasha didn’t see it.

  I’ve warned you but you didn’t take any notice. Now see how sorry I can make you.

  He checked the phone number of Jenson’s organisation and dialled it.

  ‘I want to speak to Elroy Jenson,’ he told the receptionist.

  ‘I’m sorry. Mr Jenson isn’t accepting calls today.’

  ‘He’ll accept mine. Tell him Mario Ferrone wants to talk to him.’

  A pause, some clicks, then a harsh masculine voice came on the line. ‘What do you mean by calling me?’

  ‘Ah, Mr Jenson. Good.’ Mario leaned back in his chair. ‘You know exactly who I am. You don’t like me, and you’re going to like me even less when I’ve finished.’

  ‘You’re wasting your time,’ Jenson’s voice came down the line.

  ‘I don’t think so. I think you’ll find that some of my recent actions have been very significant.’

  ‘What recent actions?’ Jenson’s voice contained a sneer but Mario thought he also detected a hint of nervousness.

  ‘You’ll be hearing from your Italian publications, wondering why whole batches of advertising have been suddenly cancelled.’

  ‘Don’t think you can scare me,’ Jenson snapped. ‘A few hotels and vineyards—’

  ‘It’ll be rather more than that. I’ve got friends working on this, friends you know nothing about but whose tentacles stretch great distances abroad. You’ll be losing advertisements left, right and centre. And when they want to know why—I wonder what you’ll tell them.’

  ‘That’s no concern of yours!’ Jenson raged.

  ‘Everything that concerns my fiancée concerns me, as you’ll find out if you don’t stop your nasty ways. You wrecked her career out of spite because she wasn’t interested in your cheap advances and too many people got to know about it. Well, now the whole world is going to know about it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Jenson snarled.

  ‘The digital age is a wonderful thing. A few texts and emails and the world will know what a pest Elroy Jenson is: a man so conceited that he felt no woman had the right to reject him, and with so little self-respect that he could never leave her alone afterwards.’

  ‘There are laws of lib
el,’ Jenson snarled.

  ‘There’s no question of libel. Once those texts you’ve sent her are revealed there would be no question everyone will know the truth.’

  ‘Texts? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Don’t waste time trying to deny it. I’ve got records of every word you sent, and where they came from. I can reveal every word and prove it. The world will rock with laughter at you. And if you resorted to law you’d just keep yourself in an unpleasant spotlight longer.’

  ‘What are you after? Money?’

  ‘No, I just want you to leave Natasha alone. One more text or call from you and you’ve had it. Do you understand me?’

  ‘You’re very good at making threats,’ Jenson snapped with his best effort at a sneer.

  Mario grinned, feeling that he could risk a little vulgarity.

  ‘I’m good at a lot of things,’ he said. ‘Which is why she chose me over you.’

  ‘Why, you—’

  ‘Goodbye. Go to hell!’

  Mario hung up. Then he stared at the phone, trying to come to terms with his own actions. He was neither a violent nor a cruel man, but the need to conquer Jenson had brought out a side of him he’d never needed to use before.

  But it was for her, and for her he would do anything. That was the effect she had on him, and now he realised that part of him had known it from the first day.

  From behind him he heard a sound that made him turn in amazement. Natasha stood there, applauding.

  ‘Well done,’ she said. ‘Wonderful! You’ve really dealt with him.’ She engulfed him in an embrace.

  ‘It was easy—just threaten to expose him as an idiot,’ he said, returning her hug. ‘He’s far more afraid of that than losing business.’

  ‘But I don’t understand what you said about his texts. Surely you don’t really have records of them?’

  ‘Only the one he sent today. I don’t have the others, but he doesn’t know that and he won’t take the chance.’

  ‘No, he won’t,’ she breathed.

  ‘And he won’t dare send you any more because now he knows the risk he runs.’

  ‘You’re so clever.’ She sighed. ‘I never thought anyone could put this business right.’

  ‘But you’ve got me to protect you now. And that’s all I want to do for the rest of my life.’

  He enfolded her in a fierce embrace.

  ‘Three days before we’re married,’ he said huskily. ‘I don’t know if I can bear to wait that long to make you mine.’

  ‘But I’m already yours. I always have been and I always will be.’

  ‘No doubt about that,’ he said, smiling. ‘I’ll never let you go.’

  ‘That suits me just fine.’

  *

  Now things were moving fast. Two days before the wedding, Damiano, Sally and Pietro arrived and took up residence in the hotel’s best suite. That evening there was a party attended by them, by Giorgio and by several members of the Comunità. Toasts were made to the bride and groom. Then the bride alone was toasted, leaving no doubt that she was the heroine of the hour.

  As the evening wore on, Sally announced that she would retire for the night.

  ‘I’ve got a bit of a headache,’ she confided to Natasha.

  ‘Me too,’ she said. ‘And I think Mario might enjoy chatting if he didn’t have to keep breaking off to translate for me.’

  Together they bid everyone goodnight and went upstairs. A warm, friendly hug and they said goodnight.

  Natasha was glad to be alone for a moment for she needed to think. She must decide what to do about Tania’s letter.

  There had been a time when she might have told Mario about it but events had conspired to distract her and now she knew the moment had gone. Her best course now was to destroy it so that it would be out of their lives finally and for ever.

  Going quickly into her room, she went to the place where she kept it hidden.

  She found the small piece of blue paper and unfolded it.

  She read it again, taking in the words that had meant so much, thanking a merciful fate that had given it to her. Now she reckoned she must burn it.

  ‘What’s that?’ said Mario’s voice.

  Startled, she looked up and saw him there. He had come in quietly, without her hearing him. Now he was standing with his eyes fixed on the blue paper that she held. With dismay, she realised that he knew what she was holding.

  ‘What’s that?’ he repeated.

  ‘It’s just—’

  ‘Give it to me.’

  He wrenched it from her hand before she could protest. As he read it he seemed to grow very still.

  ‘How did you get this?’ he asked in a toneless voice.

  ‘By accident. I came across it while I was in your apartment, after my room flooded.’

  ‘And you kept it.’

  ‘I needed to read it again and again. It seemed too good to be true. She says there that you’d told her it was over because you wanted to be with me. So after that I knew—’

  ‘You knew I’d been telling you the truth,’ he said slowly.

  ‘Yes. It was so wonderful. After everything that happened, who could have thought it would be Tania who would make things right for us?’

  There was a silence.

  When he spoke he didn’t look at her. ‘Did she make things right for us?’ he asked in a strange voice.

  ‘She added the missing piece. She told me what I needed to know. After that, everything was different.’

  If only he would smile and share her pleasure at the way things had turned out, but instead he was silent, frowning. It was almost as though her words troubled him.

  ‘Tell me something,’ he said at last. ‘That night we took a walk by the river and when we got home you invited me into your room—had you read Tania’s letter then?’

  ‘Yes. I was so happy. Suddenly everything was all right.’

  ‘Why? Because Tania had confirmed I was telling the truth? You knew that because she told you? But not because I told you?’

  ‘I didn’t know you as well in those days. I couldn’t be sure what the truth might be. Oh, Mario, why didn’t you show me the letter yourself?’

  ‘I meant to. But I was waiting for the right moment.’

  ‘But surely any time would have been right to show me the proof?’

  ‘The proof?’

  ‘The proof that what you were telling me was true. That you really had broken with her.’

  A strange, tense look came over his face. ‘So you could have believed me when you saw proof. But not my word alone.’

  ‘Mario, I’m sorry about that. I see now that I should have believed you. But does it matter now that it’s been finally settled?’

  ‘Settled.’ He repeated the word softly. ‘If only I could make you understand—’

  ‘Understand what, my darling?’

  ‘Since you came to Verona I’ve clung to a happy fantasy, a dream world in which we understood each other. In that world we grew close, loving each other more and more until you finally believed what I told you because you knew me well enough to know that I was true to you.’

  ‘But I do know—’

  ‘Yes, because you’ve got the evidence in that letter. But in my fantasy you didn’t need evidence. You believed me because you loved me enough to trust me completely. We were so close that no doubt could ever come between us.

  ‘That night, when you opened your arms to me, I felt I’d reached heaven. I thought our great moment had arrived at last, the moment I’d been longing for since the day we met. If only you knew how I… Well, never mind. It doesn’t matter now.’

  ‘But it does,’ she cried passionately. ‘Mario, don’t talk like this. You sound as though everything is hopeless between us, but it isn’t. We’ve discovered our hope at last. It’s taken too long but we’ve finally found each other. Can’t you see that?’

  ‘I want to. If you knew how desperately I long to believe that everything
can be all right now, but there’s something missing and perhaps it always will be.’

  She stared at him, struggling to believe what he was saying.

  ‘Then blame me,’ she said. ‘I got it wrong; I took too long to understand the truth. But I understand it now.’

  ‘Yes, because someone else told you. Not me. The closeness I thought we’d achieved doesn’t exist. It was an illusion I believed because I wanted to believe it.’ He gave a grim laugh. ‘I remember you saying people believed what they wanted to, and boy were you right! In you I saw what I wanted to see.

  ‘And now? Will we ever have that closeness? I doubt it. You said things were “finally settled”. But when is something settled? When you finally have peace of mind?’

  And now he did not have peace of mind with her. He didn’t say it—but he didn’t need to say it. She had thought that all was well between them, but after this would their love ever be the same?

  ‘Do you understand the bitter irony of this?’ he asked. ‘The next thing is our wedding. We’ll stand side by side at a site that commemorates the greatest lovers of legend. We’ll vow love, loyalty, trust. Trust! Can you imagine that?’

  ‘I do trust you,’ she cried passionately.

  ‘Do you? Perhaps you do, perhaps you don’t. I’ll never really know, will I?’

  ‘Can’t you take my word for it?’

  He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Are you lecturing me about accepting your word? That’s the cruellest joke you ever made. I was looking forward to our wedding. Now I’m dreading it. I’m not even sure that I—’

  He broke off, almost choking. His eyes, fixed on her, were full of hostility. Suddenly he turned, pulled open the door and rushed out without a backward glance.

  ‘Mario—don’t. Come back, please.’

  But either he didn’t hear or he ignored her, heading for the stairs and running down them. At the bottom he turned towards the entrance. Dashing back into the room, Natasha went to the window and looked down, where she could see him heading down the street until he vanished.

  She almost screamed in her despair. The perfect love that offered a wonderful future had descended into chaos. Now a terrifying vista opened before her. Ahead stretched a road of misery, where every hope came to nothing and only emptiness remained.