Reunited with Her Italian Ex

‘I’ve been calling it for half an hour,’ Giorgio admitted. ‘But there’s no reply. Perhaps she doesn’t want to talk to us.’

Or perhaps she can’t, said a voice in Mario’s mind. He remembered the woman she had been the evening before, bright, completely at ease, ready to challenge him every moment.

Yet there had been something else, he realised. Beneath her confident manner he’d sensed something different—troubled, uneasy. Their meeting had taken them both by surprise. His own turmoil had startled and shaken him, making him struggle not to let her suspect his weakness, the more so because she had seemed free of any weakness.

But then he’d seen a new look in her eyes, a flash of vulnerability that matched his own. It had vanished at once, but for a brief moment he’d known that she was as alarmed as he was.

He remembered how he’d stood under her balcony last night, watching her, sensing again that she was haunted, but resisting the impulse to reach out to her. Her disappearance now hinted at new trouble. If he went to her room, what would he find? The confident Natasha, laughing at his discomfiture? Or the frail Natasha who couldn’t cope?

Abruptly he took out his mobile phone, called her room and listened as the bell rang and rang, with no reply.

‘If it was anyone else you’d think they’d vanished without paying the bill,’ Giorgio observed. ‘But we’re not charging her for that room, so she’s got no reason to vanish.’

‘That’s right,’ Mario said grimly. ‘No reason at all.’

‘I’ll go and knock on her door.’

‘No, stay here. I’ll see what’s happened.’

Swiftly, he went to his office and opened a cupboard that contained the hotel’s replacement keys. Trying to stay calm despite his growing worry, Mario took the one that belonged to Natasha’s room and went upstairs. After only a moment’s hesitation, he opened her door.

At once he saw her, lying in bed, so still and silent that alarm rose in him. He rushed towards the bed and leaned down to her, close enough to see that she was breathing.

His relief was so great that he grasped the chest of drawers to stop himself falling. Every instinct of self-preservation warned him to get out quickly, before he was discovered. But he couldn’t make himself leave her. Instead he dropped onto one knee, gazing at her closely. She lay without moving, her lovely hair splayed out on the pillow, her face soft and almost smiling.

How he had once dreamed of this, of awakening to find her beside him, sleeping gently, full of happiness at the pleasure they had shared.

He leaned a little closer, until he could feel her breath on his face. He knew he was taking a mad risk. A wise man would leave now, but he wasn’t a wise man. He was a man torn by conflicting desires.

Then she moved, turning so that the bedclothes slipped away from her, revealing that she was naked. Mario drew a sharp breath.

How often in the past had he longed to see her this way? He had planned and schemed to draw her tenderly closer! The night of their disaster had been meant to end like this, lying together in his bed, with him discovering her hidden beauty. But then a calamity had descended on him and wrecked his life. How bitter was the irony that he should see her lovely nakedness now.

She moved again, reaching out in his direction, so that he had to jerk away quickly. She began to whisper in her sleep, but he couldn’t make out the words. Only escape would save him. He rose, backed off quickly and managed to make it to the door before her eyes opened. Once outside, he leaned against the wall, his chest heaving, his brain whirling.

At last he moved away, back to the real world, where he was a man in command. And that, he vowed, was where he would stay.

* * *

Giorgio looked up as Mario approached. ‘No luck finding her?’

Mario shrugged. ‘I didn’t bother looking very far. Try calling her again.’

Giorgio dialled the number, listening with a resigned face.

‘Looks like she still isn’t—no, wait! Natasha, is that you? Thank goodness! Where have you been? What? Don’t you know the time? All right, I’ll tell Mario. But hurry.’ He shut off the phone. ‘She says she overslept.’

Mario shrugged. ‘Perhaps the flight tired her yesterday.’

Giorgio gave a rich chuckle. ‘My guess is that she was entertaining someone last night. I know she’d only just arrived, but a girl as lovely as that can entertain anyone whenever she wants. I saw men looking at her as she came down those stairs. Did you expect such a beauty?’

‘I didn’t know what to expect,’ Mario said in a toneless voice.

‘Nor me. I never hoped she’d be so young and lovely. Let’s make the best of it. Juliet come to life. Oh, yes, finding her was a real stroke of luck.’

A stroke of luck. The words clamoured in Mario’s brain, adding more bitterness to what he was already suffering. He didn’t believe that a man had been in Natasha’s room last night, but the sight of her naked had devastated him. He could almost believe she’d done it on purpose to taunt him, but the sweet, enchanting Natasha he’d known would never do that.

But was she that Natasha any more?

Had she ever been?

‘I just know what she’s doing right this minute,’ Giorgio said with relish. ‘She’s turning to the man next to her in the bed, saying, “You’ve got to go quickly so that nobody finds you here.” Perhaps we should have someone watch her door to see who comes out.’

‘That’s enough,’ Mario growled.

‘With a girl as stunning as that, nothing is ever enough. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. You were fizzing from the moment you saw her.’

‘Drop it,’ Mario growled.

‘All right, you don’t want to admit she had that effect on you. After all, you’re the boss. Don’t let her guess she’s got you where she wants you—even if she has.’

‘I said drop it.’

‘Steady there. Don’t get mad at me. I was only thinking that if there’s an attraction between you, we can make use of it.’

‘And you’re mistaken. There’s no attraction between us.’

‘Pity. That could have been fun.’

* * *

Slowly, Natasha felt life returning to her as she ended the call from Giorgio.

‘Nine-fifteen!’ she gasped in horror. ‘I was supposed to be downstairs at nine. Oh, I should never have taken those sleeping pills.’

The pills had plunged her into a deep slumber, which she’d needed to silence her desperate thoughts of Mario. But at the end he’d invaded her sleep, his face close to hers, regarding her with an almost fierce intensity. But he wasn’t there. It had been a dream.

‘I just can’t get away from him,’ she whispered. ‘Will I ever?’

She showered in cold water, relishing the feeling of coming back to life. Dressing was a simple matter of putting on tailored trousers and a smart blazer and fixing her hair back tightly. Then she was ready to go.

She found Giorgio and Mario downstairs at the table.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to be late but I was more tired than I realised.’

‘That’s understandable,’ Giorgio said gallantly.

Mario threw him a cynical look but said nothing.