Reunited with Her Italian Ex Read online

  ‘Maybe. But it wouldn’t surprise me if back home she has a trail of eager pursuers.’

  ‘You could be right,’ Mario growled.

  He could see that Natasha had finished making notes, and was rising to move away. He got to her quickly.

  ‘Still working?’ he said.

  ‘I’ve had an idea. I need to talk to everyone again.’

  ‘Then let’s return to the dining room.’ He offered her his arm, saying, ‘You’ve done well tonight. The contract will be ready soon.’

  ‘Contract?’

  ‘For you to sign. The whole Comunità is determined to secure your professional services. Are you willing to stay with us?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘I’m willing.’

  When they were gathered in the dining room again she addressed everyone. ‘I think we should take some photographs of Romeo and Juliet. They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, and we can send ours all over the world. We’ll need to hire actors, then we’ll photograph them on the balcony, in the tomb, anywhere that seems atmospheric.’

  ‘We can’t pose them on the official balcony,’ Mario said. ‘There are always tourists there. But this hotel has a balcony that will do.’

  It was agreed that they would all meet again when the arrangements were made. Now all Mario wanted was to get away. Nothing had prepared him for being so close to her for hours, and he needed to be alone.

  ‘Sleep well,’ he told her as he escorted her to a chauffeur-driven car. ‘You’ve worked hard today and there’ll be more tomorrow.’ He opened the car door. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Goodnight.’

  He walked away.

  *

  Back in her room, Natasha undressed and went to bed. It had been a successful evening and she should have felt triumphant. Perhaps she would have done if Mario had returned with her, and been here to share her sense of achievement. But he had left her alone while he spent the night somewhere else.

  Images of Laura danced through her mind, pursued by Amadore’s voice saying ‘…he can have any woman he wants.’

  She tried to shut the thoughts down. She and Mario were no longer part of each other’s lives, and she cared nothing where he was now, or who he was with.

  She lay down and managed to sleep. When she awoke she could hear a noise in the corridor outside, as though someone was turning a key in a lock. She rose and opened her door just in time to see Mario’s door closing.

  It was six in the morning.

  *

  She half expected him to be late for breakfast but he was there before her, calm, collected and ready for work.

  ‘You were right about hiring actors,’ he said. ‘We’ll have a file of pictures soon. In the meantime I’ve been making some notes of my own—’

  But before she could look at them her phone beeped with another text.

  ‘Is he hounding you again?’ Mario demanded.

  ‘No, it’s not him,’ she said, looking at the screen. Then she drew in her breath sharply. ‘Oh, no—no! Please, no!’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she said sharply.

  ‘Don’t tell me it’s nothing when it affects you like that. Let me see.’

  Without asking her permission, he took the phone from her.

  ‘What’s this?’ he demanded, reading, ‘Sorry, your cheque bounced.’

  ‘How dare you?’ she said furiously, snatching the phone back.

  ‘Who’s hounding you for money? Is it him?’

  ‘No, it’s my friend Helen, and she’s not hounding me. She’s been letting me stay in her flat and she got me this job. Before I left I gave her a cheque for my share of expenses. I owe her so much and I’ve repaid her like this. I didn’t mean to. I thought there was just enough in the bank.’

  ‘Right, we’d better get your contract sorted at once. Wait for me here.’

  As he left she sat there, deep in gloom. Shame pervaded her and for a moment she wished she could do what Mario had accused her of, and vanish into thin air.

  After a few minutes Giorgio appeared.

  ‘The boss says I’m to give you the contract to sign,’ he told her. ‘Let’s go into his office.’

  In the office he laid out papers before her. ‘Just sign at the bottom.’

  She picked up the pen, then paused. ‘Wait, are you sure this contract is right?’

  ‘The boss says it is.’

  ‘But I know what the agency offered me—the money was far less.’

  ‘The fee has been changed. The boss says you’re worth more.’

  Her head was spinning. The new amount was much larger than the one she had been quoted before.

  ‘You need to give me your bank details so that some money can be paid to you today,’ Giorgio said.

  Dazed, she gave him the necessary information and signed the contract at the bottom of the last page.

  ‘And you must put your initials on the other pages,’ Giorgio told her. ‘He wants to make very sure that you’re ours and nobody else’s. He knows good value when he sees it. Ah, here he is.’

  Mario had come into the room, and stood watching as Natasha finished signing. Glancing over the papers, he nodded and handed them to Giorgio, who left the room.

  ‘I hadn’t expected so much,’ she said. ‘You didn’t have to do that. But thank you.’

  ‘You have nothing to thank me for, signorina,’ he said firmly. ‘You’re vital to this project and I’ve taken the necessary steps to make sure the Comunità keeps your services.’

  She nodded, replying in the same formal voice, ‘You can be sure that I will remain loyal to the Comunità, signore.’

  ‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘Then we understand each other.’

  ‘I’m sure we do.’

  Oh, yes, she thought. They understood each other perfectly, but in ways that could never be expressed in words. He’d moved swiftly to save her from disaster, but in such a way that there was no fear of them growing closer. They were signore and signorina, and nothing else.

  Not long after, she accessed her bank account on the Internet and found that a large sum of money had already been deposited, enabling her to pay her debt to Helen. That was a relief and she was able to enjoy an hour wandering the streets, absorbing the feel of the city.

  When she returned she found that the photographs had arrived. Giorgio and Mario were going through them, studying the pictures of young models, seeking one with the perfect combination of beauty and innocence. She joined in and after a while she discovered exactly what she wanted.

  Finding Romeo was harder. He had to be handsome, with splendid legs, since Romeo would be wearing tights. At last she found what she wanted.

  ‘Perfect,’ Mario said, studying the picture. ‘Good-looking and vulnerable.’

  ‘Vulnerable?’ Giorgio queried. ‘He’s one of literature’s great heroes.’

  ‘He also fell for everything that was said to him,’ Mario observed wryly. ‘Not one of the world’s great minds.’

  ‘That’s what happens to people in love,’ Natasha said. ‘They set their minds aside and believe what they want to believe.’

  ‘And soon learn their mistake. All right, let’s hire these two.’

  Giorgio got straight onto the phone, made the contact and arranged for the two young people to appear in a couple of days.

  ‘Paolo and Lucia,’ he said. ‘They’ll be here ready to start on Thursday morning.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Natasha said. ‘It gives me some more time to work on my ideas.’

  The next two days were abuzz with action. Some of the time was spent visiting Romeo’s house, and twice Natasha was invited to dine with other members of the Comunità. Mario accompanied her on these trips, but did not sit next to her at the dinner table.

  She thought she understood. Having tied her down with the contract, both legally and financially, Mario preferred to keep a certain distance between them.

  But the money in her bank account was a big reli
ef. There was no doubt that in Mario she’d made a good professional association. She must cling to that thought.

  By day they were absorbed in preparing for the photo shoot. Giorgio hired a photographer experienced in taking dramatic pictures. He also found a theatrical costumier.

  ‘She’ll join us tomorrow with a big variety of costumes,’ he told Natasha. ‘Our models can try several until we find the right ones.’

  ‘Juliet will need something exotic for the ballroom,’ Natasha said. ‘Then an elegant dress for the wedding scene, and a very simple one for the tomb. Right, I’m going to bed. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.’

  ‘Does anyone know where Mario is?’ Giorgio enquired.

  ‘He left an hour ago,’ Natasha said. ‘He must be busy.’

  On the way upstairs she wondered if Mario was in his room, or had he gone to be with the same person he’d probably visited the other night?

  Passing his door, she couldn’t help pausing to hear if any sound was coming from inside. She blamed herself for yielding to the temptation, but she couldn’t help it.

  Then she heard his voice. He was on the telephone, speaking Italian in a warm, laughing tone.

  ‘Non è importante. Non è importante.’

  She didn’t need to know the language to understand what he was saying: ‘It’s not important’. Mario was reassuring somebody that what was happening now didn’t matter to him.

  She hurried into her room and locked the door, wishing she’d resisted temptation and vowing to be stronger next time.

  *

  Next morning Lisa, the costumier, arrived early. She was a tall businesslike woman who spoke perfect English and went through Natasha’s requirements with no trouble.

  ‘Let’s hope Romeo is handsome and has a good figure,’ she said briskly.

  ‘He looked good in the photo I saw, but I haven’t met him yet,’ Natasha admitted.

  ‘That’s a pity. To be suitable he must be sexy. We need the women to sigh over him and say, “I want some of that”.’

  ‘But he’ll only be a picture,’ Natasha protested. ‘We’re selling the town, not Romeo himself.’

  Lisa chuckled. ‘You think that, do you?’

  Natasha gave a wry smile. ‘Well, it’s what I need to believe. But I guess you’re right.’

  ‘Share the joke, ladies,’ Giorgio called from nearby, where he was talking with Mario.

  ‘You wouldn’t understand it,’ Lisa told him. ‘We’re laughing at men, and men never realise how funny they are.’

  ‘That’s very true,’ Natasha said. ‘And if you try to explain they still don’t understand.’

  Mario gave her an odd glance which she returned with an air of teasing confidence. She felt a certain cheeky pleasure in having disconcerted him. The day had started well. Whatever happened now, she felt she could cope.

  They all set out for the Splendido, where everyone was waiting, eager to begin. The next hour was spent going through a variety of garments.

  ‘I like this one,’ Natasha said, holding up a long white ballgown. It was simple and elegant, perfect for a girl making her debut in society. ‘Juliet can wear this at the ball.’

  Giorgio looked impatiently at his watch.

  ‘They should be here by now. What’s happened to them?’

  He snatched up his phone and dialled. Almost as soon as he was through, an expression of outrage overtook him.

  ‘Sì? Che cosa? Cosa vuol dire che non posso venire? Oh, dolore bene!’

  He hung up.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Mario demanded.

  ‘They’re not coming. There’s been a mix-up with the dates. They thought the shoot was next week.’

  ‘Oh, no, what are we going to do?’ Natasha cried. ‘It’s all set up for today.’

  ‘There’s only one thing we can do,’ Giorgio said. ‘Find another Romeo and Juliet.’

  ‘But we haven’t got time to search,’ she protested.

  ‘We don’t have to search. We’ve got the duo we need right here.’ He threw out his arms towards her and Mario. ‘Romeo and Juliet.’

  She stared. ‘You can’t possibly be serious.’

  ‘I’m perfectly serious. You’re beautiful enough to be Juliet, and Mario can just about get by as Romeo.’

  ‘It won’t work,’ Mario growled. ‘As though I could—’

  ‘It’s got to work,’ Giorgio said. ‘You’re the only two who can do it in the time available. We’ve got to start right now, otherwise all our plans are in a mess. Come along, you two. Be professional.’

  ‘He’s right,’ Mario growled. ‘We have no choice.’

  ‘Go next door and get changed,’ Amadore said. ‘Natasha, a maid will come with you.’

  She looked around wildly. Surely there must be some other way. But there was no other way. Only this could save her plans for the success she simply had to have.

  The maid appeared and took her to the room assigned as Juliet’s dressing room. The dress fitted perfectly onto her slender, delicate figure. But her hair didn’t seem right, pulled tightly back.

  ‘I think Juliet would wear it hung loose,’ she said.

  The maid nodded, and got skilfully to work. Natasha watched, only half believing, as the self she knew disappeared and naive, vulnerable Juliet took her place. The merest touch of make-up heightened the impression, and she was ready to go.

  As she entered the ballroom heads turned. Giorgio made a clapping movement and Amadore whistled.

  She noticed neither of them. Her attention had been seized by the man standing a little further off. Mario had transformed into Romeo, wearing a dark blue doublet and tights. It would need a fine figure to get away with such a revealing costume, but Mario was tall, splendidly built and handsome enough to steal the spotlight.

  Suddenly a memory came flooding back to her. Two years ago, during their precious short time together in Venice, they had spent a day on the beach. Her first sight of him, half naked in swimming trunks, had had a stunning effect on her, making her intensely aware that her own swimwear was a bikini, leaving much of her body uncovered.

  Oh, yes, she’d thought as she enjoyed the sight of his long, strong legs as he raced across the beach. Oh, yes!

  After that everything had changed. They spent the day chasing each other, bathing in the sea or stretched out on the sand, and with every moment she wanted him more. She’d feasted her eyes on his smooth, muscular body, seizing every chance to lean closer to him, cherishing the brief moments when her flesh brushed against his.

  It had been her first experience of fierce desire and it revealed her to herself in a new light. In the past she had flirted, laughed, teased, but never before had she wanted a man with such fervour. When their eyes met she believed she saw the same intensity in him, and promised herself that soon he would carry her to a new world.

  That night they’d parted with only a kiss. She had told herself he was biding his time, waiting for her to be ready to move on.

  Three days later they had parted for ever.

  Shaking off the memory, she began to walk towards Mario, tense for the moment when she would see his reaction to her. Would the past return to haunt him too? What would she see in his eyes?

  At last Mario looked up, saw her and nodded.

  ‘Splendid,’ he said. ‘Giorgio chose Juliet well.’

  His tone was polite but nothing more, and his eyes were blank.

  ‘And you look fine as well, Signor Ferrone,’ she said, striving to match him for blandness.

  ‘Well, like Giorgio said, I’ll “just about get by”.’

  ‘Everybody ready?’ Amadore called. ‘This way.’

  He indicated an archway at the far end of the ballroom. Mario offered Natasha his arm and she took it, saying, ‘Thank you, signore.’

  He leaned closer to her, murmuring, ‘Don’t call me signore. My name is Mario. If you address me formally people will think something is wrong between us.’

  ‘And we mustn’t l
et them think that,’ she agreed. ‘Shall we go?’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THERE WAS A cheer when they came into the ballroom. Lisa nodded, as though to say that Romeo’s looks met her high standards.

  The photographer studied them with approval and said he would start with portrait shots.

  ‘First I’ll take you separately, then together. Juliet, you first.’

  ‘Juliet? I’m Natasha,’ she said lightly.

  ‘No, today you are Juliet.’

  ‘He’s right,’ Giorgio said. ‘You don’t pretend to be Juliet. You are Juliet. You can go back to being Natasha tomorrow.’

  ‘If I want to,’ she said, entering into the spirit. ‘Natasha might be too boring.’

  ‘That’s the spirit,’ Giorgio said with a grin.

  She turned this way and that, smiled, looked sad, smiled again.

  ‘Now throw your arms out,’ Giorgio said. ‘Imagine you’re looking at someone who’s the great happiness of your life.’

  She did so, reaching towards the camera with a yearning look.

  Mario, watching from the sidelines, turned his head to avoid seeing that expression on her face. He remembered it too well from the past, and couldn’t bear to be reminded of it now that the past was over.

  Then he too had to pose for portrait shots.

  ‘This way, that way,’ the photographer called. ‘Turn your head a little. Good. Now the two of you together.’

  The first shot was a formal pose, with Juliet standing just in front of Romeo, his hands on her shoulders.

  ‘Now turn and look into each other’s eyes. Keep hold of each other but lean back a little so that I can see both of your faces.’

  They obeyed, studying each other seriously, then smiling according to instructions.

  ‘I think Romeo should frown a little,’ Lisa called. ‘And he should try to look sexy so that we know why Juliet fell for him.’

  Mario scowled, annoyed at the comment and even more exasperated by the fact that Natasha collapsed with laughter.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she called. ‘I can pretend if I have to.’

  ‘And perhaps Juliet had to,’ Giorgio said cheerfully. ‘Maybe she didn’t really fancy Romeo at all. She was pursuing her own agenda. That’s it! Romeo, that grim look is perfect. Keep it up.’