Reunited with Her Italian Ex Read online

  She fell into earnest conversation with Riccardo.

  ‘I want to see the rest of Verona,’ she said. ‘It’s not just about Romeo and Juliet. There’s more to life than romance.’

  ‘No doubt about that,’ Mario agreed.

  They clinked glasses.

  ‘Right,’ Natasha said. ‘I’ve done my preliminary work. Now I’m going to shut myself away for a while to get everything written. I’ll see you in a few days, gentlemen.’

  ‘So we’re no longer needed?’ Giorgio asked comically. ‘You’re dismissing us just like that? Ah, it’s a hard world.’

  ‘That’s how it is,’ Mario said, reflecting Giorgio’s theatrical manner. ‘A woman dismisses a man when she no longer needs him. We just have to accept it.’

  They all laughed.

  ‘If I’m not required for a while I’ll go back to Venice for a few days,’ Mario said. ‘Sally, my sister-in-law, is about to give birth again. She had a hard time with her last baby so I think Damiano might appreciate having me around for a few days. I’ll stay in touch—signorina, Giorgio will take care of you.’

  ‘Thank you. If I have Giorgio, what more could I possibly want?’

  Mario left that afternoon, bidding her a polite goodbye in front of everyone else, adding, ‘Giorgio can contact me if need be. Goodbye, everyone.’

  He fled.

  CHAPTER SIX

  IT WAS A relief for Natasha to spend the next few days without Mario. She needed time to come to terms with what he’d told her.

  If you knew how I planned that day… I was going to ask you not to go home, to stay with me, become my love.

  She tried to block out the memory, but it haunted her. Mario vowed he’d broken with Tania because he loved her and was preparing to tell her.

  We didn’t have to end up here. We could have been married by now, and expecting our first child. Instead—well, look at us.

  She tried not to hear the terrible words echoing in her mind. Mario had accused her of believing only what she wanted to believe. And perhaps he was right. If he was telling the truth it meant that she had created the disaster almost single-handed.

  To escape that unbearable thought, she submerged herself in work, studying not just Verona itself but its surroundings. It stood in the Veneto, the northern region of Italy that was best known for the city of Venice.

  ‘That’s why we speak Venetian here,’ Giorgio told her.

  ‘Venetian? Venice has its own language?’

  ‘Certainly, and it’s spoken throughout the Veneto. People speak Italian as well, and English is very common because of all the tourists. But you need to know about the Venetian language to really understand this area.’

  ‘And that’s what I want to do,’ she said, scribbling furiously.

  The next day the photographer delivered the pictures of ‘Romeo and Juliet’ and she studied them closely.

  Mario’s face fascinated her. When they had met a few days ago, she’d thought he looked older, harsher, more tense. But in these pictures he had changed again, becoming more like the young man she remembered. She thought she could see a softening in his expression as he looked at Juliet, a glow in his eyes which the camera had caught wonderfully.

  She had seen that glow before, two years ago. He must be a very good actor, she thought. But I suppose I knew that.

  She spent some time wandering Verona alone, drinking in the atmosphere with nobody to distract her. She found a street she thought might be the place where Juliet’s cousin Tybalt killed Romeo’s friend, Mercutio. Just a little further on was where Romeo could have caught up with Tybalt and stabbed him in revenge.

  Nearby were two Comunità hotels, where she was welcomed eagerly. She looked them over, and jotted down notes in readiness for the next despatch.

  There were a dozen places to visit, but she had no energy to explore further today. She had coped with the emotional strains of the last few days, but they had taken their toll. Now she was tired and her head ached a little, so she set off back to the Dimitri Hotel.

  It was a relief to get back there, order a coffee and sit in the hotel café. She closed her eyes, unaware that a man was watching her a few yards away, taking in every detail about her: her air of despondency, her appearance of being apart from the world, her loneliness.

  Suddenly she looked up and saw him.

  ‘Mario!’

  ‘Hello, Natasha.’ He went to sit beside her.

  ‘You’re back from Venice then?’

  ‘Yes, I arrived ten minutes ago.’

  ‘Is everything all right with your family?’

  ‘Yes, Sally came through it well and now I’ve got a niece.’

  ‘Congratulations.’

  ‘Thank you. How are things with you? You look very tired.’

  ‘I’ve had a busy day, but a very satisfying one.’

  ‘Did anyone go with you, to make sure you didn’t get lost?’

  ‘Hey, there’s no need to insult me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m not some silly girl who gets lost every time she’s in an unfamiliar street.’

  ‘Sorry, ma’am.’

  ‘I could have asked Giorgio to escort me, but I refused. I can manage.’

  He had no doubt of her real meaning. She’d needed time alone, free of the tension that was always there between them. He understood because he felt the same.

  ‘You work too hard,’ he said. ‘You always did. I remember once before, when we first met in Venice, you said you’d been working so hard that you were exhausted. I took you for a ride in a gondola, and you fell asleep.’

  He said it with a smile but she recalled that he hadn’t been amused at the time. He was used to taking girls for gondola rides, but not used to them nodding off in his company.

  ‘You took me back to the hotel and said goodnight very firmly,’ she recalled, smiling. ‘You felt insulted at my behaviour. I always wondered what you did for the rest of the evening, but I expect you found someone else who managed to stay awake.’

  ‘I can’t remember,’ he said firmly.

  ‘Very tactful.’

  They both laughed. He couldn’t tell her that he’d spent the rest of that evening alone, brooding about her seeming indifference to his attentions. She had intrigued him, and he’d sought her out early next day.

  ‘That was always the way with you,’ he reflected now. ‘There, yet not there, keeping me wondering.’

  ‘I didn’t do it on purpose,’ she said. ‘You thought I was being a deliberate tease, but I wasn’t. I was wondering too.’

  And that had been her attraction for him, he realised. Where other girls were often willing, sometimes too willing, Natasha had always been just out of reach. It had driven him crazy but it had kept him in pursuit of her. Until finally she had vanished, leaving him devastated.

  How much had she really felt for him? To this day he didn’t know, and he doubted he ever would.

  But one thing was certain. She was no longer the tense, nervy creature of a few days ago. The woman who had forced a kiss on him as revenge for his kissing her had simply vanished. Now she was relaxed, in command, humorous, alluring.

  ‘I hear that you’ve been working hard,’ he said. ‘You’ve been contacting the other hotel owners to get information, and showing them what you planned to write so that they could approve it. They’re very impressed. My stock has risen considerably since I performed the brilliant act of securing your services.’ He gave a theatrical flourish. ‘Only a genius like myself could have discovered you.’

  ‘But you didn’t discover me. It was Giorgio.’

  ‘Hush. We don’t say that.’ He grinned. ‘And neither does Giorgio if he knows what’s good for him.’

  ‘I see. The boss gives his orders and we all jump to obey.’

  ‘Some do. I doubt I’ll ever see the day when you jump to obey.’

  ‘But you pay my wages,’ she reminded him. ‘Surely I have no choice but to obey you?’

 
‘All right, all right. You’ve had your joke.’

  ‘It’s not a joke. You’re my employer. I know it’s Giorgio who directs me, but you’re the authority. If you told him to fire me, he’d have to do so.’

  ‘There’s no danger of that.’

  ‘Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you.’

  ‘What is it?’ he asked with a sense of foreboding, for her tone implied a serious matter. ‘Go on, tell me. How bad is it?’

  ‘It’s not bad at all. I want to say thank you.’

  ‘Thank you? For what?’ he asked, sounding nervous.

  ‘For changing my contract so that I’m making more money. I couldn’t believe it when Giorgio showed me the new one and said you’d told him to increase it.’

  ‘But you’ve already thanked me,’ he said. ‘You did so a few minutes afterwards. I told you then that it was essential to secure your professional services.’

  ‘Yes, you told me that, but you knew how bad my financial problems were. You could have secured me without raising the money. I think there may have been a little kindness involved too.’

  He gave a slight smile. ‘Kindness? Me? I’m a businessman. I don’t do kindness.’

  ‘I think you do. I can remember things in Venice—that little girl who lost her dog, and you found it for her.’

  ‘I was only trying to impress you.’

  ‘And you succeeded. You don’t like people to know about your kind and caring streak but it’s there.’

  ‘That’s practically an insult.’

  ‘Then you’ll have to put up with me insulting you,’ she said.

  ‘I think I can just about manage that.’

  ‘The thing is—that quarrel we had the other day, when we’d finished having the pictures taken… It just flared up but I wish it hadn’t.’

  ‘So do I. I said things I didn’t mean.’

  ‘You said I was afraid to face the truth, that everything could have been different if I’d listened to you. I think you meant that and I don’t blame you.’

  ‘But do you believe what I told you—about Tania, how I’d already broken with her?’

  ‘Please—please don’t,’ she gasped. ‘It’s in the past. It doesn’t matter now.’

  ‘Meaning that you still don’t believe me.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said in anguish. ‘There are so many things battling each other in my mind—’

  ‘I know the feeling,’ he said wryly.

  ‘But it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Natasha, how can it not matter? You always prided yourself on being logical, but if you think what happened between us didn’t matter you’re talking nonsense.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that. It mattered then, but not now. The world has moved on. We’ve moved on.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ he said quietly. ‘We’ve moved on.’

  ‘And I think we were never meant to be together. Something was always fated to go wrong.’

  ‘Now you sound like Giorgio.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Just before you arrived, he and I were talking about Romeo and Juliet being “star-crossed lovers”. Sometimes a couple is meant for each other but just can’t get it together. They just have to accept that fate is against them.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘You could say that fate was against us. My problem was that you had more women in your life than you could count. Or that I could count.’

  ‘And mine was that you don’t trust any man. I’ve always wondered why. Was there some other guy who walked out and broke your heart?’

  ‘In a way, yes, but it’s not how you think. The man who walked out was my father.’

  She fell silent until he said, ‘Tell me about him.’

  ‘I loved him, and he loved me, so I thought. And then he just vanished. I never heard from him again. We seemed to be so close but he just wiped me and my mother out of existence.’

  As you did with me, Mario thought, but was too tactful to say.

  ‘My mother was so bitter. She told me a million times that no man could ever be trusted, but she didn’t need to say it. I felt it for myself.’

  ‘So when we knew each other you were always reminding yourself that no man could be trusted—especially me.’

  ‘No, not especially you. You mattered more than anyone else but—’

  ‘But you instinctively thought I was no different from the rest of them. Except perhaps a bit worse.’

  ‘No, no—it wasn’t like that.’

  ‘From where I’m sitting it was exactly like that.’

  ‘And so you’ve come close to hating me,’ she sighed. ‘Perhaps I can’t blame you.’

  ‘Please, Natasha, forget I said that. I was in a temper. I wanted to hurt you because I resented the way you’d just shown your power over me. The way you kissed me made a point I didn’t want to admit.’

  ‘A point?’ Her heart was beating fast.

  ‘You showed me that I’m not the strong, independent fellow I like to believe I am. So I hit back with the worst thing I could think of. I didn’t mean it and I’m not proud of it. Do you think you can forgive me?’

  ‘That depends.’

  ‘On what?’ he asked cautiously.

  ‘On whether you can forgive me.’

  ‘There’s nothing to forgive.’

  ‘Really? What about the way you say I—?’

  ‘Stop there,’ he said quickly. ‘Whatever I may have said, I take it back. It’s over. It’s done with. Let us be friends.’

  She considered a moment before smiling and saying wistfully, ‘That would be nice.’

  ‘It’s settled then.’

  ‘Shake?’ She held out her hand, but he fended her off.

  ‘No. We shook hands the first night as professional associates. But now we’re friends—and friends don’t shake hands. They don’t need to.’ He leaned over and kissed her cheek. ‘That’s what friends do. And they buy each other coffee.’

  ‘Good. Waiter!’

  ‘No, I meant that I’d buy you a coffee.’

  ‘Stop giving me orders. I’m buying and that’s that.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. Anything you say, ma’am.’

  ‘Mind you, you’ll have to do the talking.’

  He nodded, gave the waiter the order in Italian, then watched as she paid.

  ‘Have you explored anywhere recently?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve looked around a bit, but there’s still one big place I’ve set my heart on visiting and that’s Juliet’s tomb.

  ‘Now it’s a museum,’ she said. ‘It seems to attract as many tourists as the balcony, so I must go there and plan the next article.’

  ‘There’s a Comunità hotel nearby,’ Mario said. ‘The Albergo Martinez. You met the owner the other night. We could dine there tonight and hear anything they have to say. Let me call him.’

  He took out his phone, made a call and started talking in Italian. While she was waiting, her own mobile phone beeped. Her heart beat hard with horror when she read the text message.

  After a few minutes Mario hung up, saying, ‘He’s expecting us in a couple of hours.’

  He stopped suddenly, frowning as he saw her staring into space, full of tension.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘No, something’s the matter. What is it?’

  ‘No—no—I’m all right. I’d like to go to my room.’

  She got up and walked quickly away. Frowning, he followed her, hurrying until he caught up and could take a firm hold of her hand. She didn’t resist but neither did she respond, and he had a feeling that she had taken refuge in another world, from which he was excluded.

  He accompanied her as far as her door, noting that she still looked pale and tense.

  ‘I’ll collect you in an hour,’ he said.

  ‘I’ll be ready.’

  Once inside, she undressed and got into the shower. There was a kind of relief in b
eing doused with water, as though it could wash away the shock that had overtaken her.

  The text on her mobile phone had been from Elroy Jenson:

  You won’t get away from me.

  He’s driving me crazy, she told herself. And that’s what he wants.

  She wondered why she hadn’t told Mario what had troubled her. It should have been easy since she had already told him about Elroy, and he would have been a valuable ally. But something in her was reluctant to reveal more vulnerability. Especially to Mario.

  When she had showered she put on a neat dark blue dress, suitable for a polite gathering. For several minutes she teased her hair, trying to decide whether to be seductive or businesslike. As so often with Mario, her mind was filled with conflicting thoughts.

  Their conversation had been fraught with double meanings. He’d said, I wanted to hurt you because I resented the way you’d just shown your power over me.

  But he’d implied the power of a bully, not of a woman. They had made a truce, but the battle was far from over.

  When he’d pressed her to say that she believed him now she had been unable to say what he wanted to hear. She longed to believe him, but she couldn’t quite make herself take the final step.

  But why should it matter whether I believe him or not? she mused. That’s all over. What matters is that we can manage to be friends.

  Nico was watching for their arrival at the Albergo Martinez and came to meet them with hands outstretched. Natasha recognised him from their meeting the first night.

  Over supper he described the tomb.

  ‘Juliet was buried in the church of San Francesco al Corso, a monastery,’ he explained.

  ‘Yes, it was Friar Laurence, a monk, who married them,’ Natasha recalled. ‘On their wedding day they went to his cell and he took them to the church to marry them.’

  ‘True. And when Juliet died—or at least she’d drunk the potion and seemed dead—she was taken to the monastery to be buried. These days the monastery has become a museum. You can go to the crypt and see the sarcophagus that legend says was hers.

  ‘The museum also hosts weddings. Many people choose to become united for life in the place where Romeo and Juliet were united in eternity. Of course, if they are seeking a hotel not too far away—’