Surrendering All but Her Heart

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  But for all her father’s efforts to erase the tragedy of Liam’s short life his ghost still haunted them all. Every time Natalie visited her parents—which was rare these days—she felt his presence. She saw his face in Lachlan’s. She heard him in her sleep. Every year she had night terrors as the anniversary of his death came close.

  With an enormous effort she garnered her self-control, and once she was sure she had her emotions securely locked and bolted down she slowly turned and faced Angelo. ‘I’m sure you found that conversation very enlightening,’ she said.

  His expression was hard to read. ‘Your father cares for you very deeply,’ he said. ‘Like all parents, he and your mother only want the best for you.’

  Natalie kept her mouth straight, even though she longed to curl her lip. ‘My father obviously thinks you’re the best for me,’ she said. ‘And as for my mother—well, she wouldn’t dream of contradicting him. So it’s happy families all round, isn’t it?’

  He studied her for a heartbeat, his eyes holding hers in a searching, probing manner. ‘I’m going to have a shower,’ he said. ‘My parents will have gone to a great deal of trouble over dinner. Please honour them by dressing and behaving appropriately.’

  ‘Contrary to what my father probably told you, I do actually know how to behave in company,’ she said to his back as he went towards the en suite bathroom.

  He turned around and meshed his gaze with hers. ‘I’m on your side, cara,’ he said, with unexpected gentleness.

  Her eyes stung with the sudden onset of tears. She blinked and got them back where they belonged: concealed, blocked, and stoically, strenuously denied. She gave a toss of her head and walked back to the window overlooking the gardens. But she didn’t let out her breath until she heard the click of the bathroom door indicating Angelo had gone.

  Angelo was putting on some cufflinks when he heard Natalie come out of the dressing room. He turned and looked at her, his breath catching in his chest at the sight of her dressed in a classic knee length black dress and patent leather four-inch heels. Her hair was pulled back in an elegant knot at the back of her head, giving her a regal air. She was wearing diamond and pearl droplet earrings and a matching necklace. Her make-up was subtle, but it highlighted the dark blue of her eyes and the creamy texture of her skin and model-like cheekbones. Her perfume drifted towards him—a bewitching blend of the wintry bloom of lily of the valley and the hot summer fragrance of honeysuckle. A perfect summation of her complex character: ice-maiden and sultry siren.

  How could someone so beautiful on the outside be capable of the things her father had said about her? It was worrying him—niggling at him like a toothache. The more time he spent with her, the more he found new aspects to her character that intrigued him.

  Yes, she was wilful and defiant. Yes, she had a streak of independence. Yes, she could be incredibly stubborn.

  But she clearly loved her brother and was prepared to go to extraordinary lengths to help him. How did that fit in with Adrian Armitage’s assessment of her as totally selfish and self-serving?

  ‘You look like you just stepped off a New York City catwalk,’ he said.

  She lifted a slim shoulder dismissively. ‘This dress is three seasons old,’ she said. ‘I bought it on sale for a fraction of the cost.’

  ‘I like your hair like that.’

  ‘It needs cutting,’ she said, touching a hand to one of her earrings. ‘This is a good way to hide the split ends.’

  ‘Why don’t you like compliments?’ he asked. ‘You always deflect them. You used to do that five years ago. I thought it was because you were young back then, but you’re still doing it.’

  She stopped fiddling with her earring to look at him, her chin coming up. ‘Compliment me all you like,’ she said. ‘I can handle it.’

  ‘You’re beautiful.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And extremely intelligent.’

  She gave a little mock bow. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And you have the most amazing body,’ he said.

  High on her cheekbones twin pools of delicate rose appeared, and her eyes moved out of reach of his. ‘I haven’t been to the gym in months.’

  ‘You’re meant to say thank you—not make excuses,’ he pointed out.

  She brought her gaze back. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re the most intriguing person I know.’

  A mask fell over her face like a curtain dropping over a stage. ‘You need to get out a little more, Angelo,’ she said.

  ‘You have secrets in your eyes.’

  She stilled as if every cell in her body had been snap frozen. But then, just as quickly she relaxed her pose. ‘We all have our secrets,’ she said lightly. ‘I wonder what some of yours are?’

  ‘Who gave you that jewellery?’ he asked.

  She put a hand to her throat, where her necklace rested. ‘I bought it for myself,’ she said.

  ‘Do you still have the locket I gave you from that street fair we went to?’

  She dropped her hand from her neck and reached for her purse. ‘Your parents will be wondering what’s keeping us,’ she said.

  ‘My parents will think we’ve been catching up on lost time.’

  Her cheeks fired again. ‘I hope they don’t expect me to speak Italian, because I’m hopeless at it.’

  ‘They won’t expect you to do anything you’re not comfortable with,’ he said. ‘They’re keen to welcome you as the daughter they never had.’

  ‘I hope I live up to their lofty expectations,’ she said, frowning a little. ‘But then, I guess no one is ever going to be good enough for the parents of an only child.’

  ‘I’m sure they will grow to love you if you show them who you really are,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah, like that’s going to work,’ she said, and picked up her wrap and wound it round her shoulders.

  Angelo frowned. ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘No one really gets to be who they truly are on the inside, do they?’ she said. ‘We all fall into line because of cultural conditioning and family expectation. None of us can say what we really want to say or do what we really want to do. We’re hemmed in by parameters imposed on us by other people and the society we live in.’

  ‘What would you do or say if those parameters weren’t there?’ he asked.

  She gave one of her dismissive shrugs. ‘What would be the point?’ she asked. ‘No one listens anyway.’

  ‘I’m listening,’ he said.

  Her eyes fell away from his. ‘We shouldn’t keep your parents waiting.’

  He brought her chin up with his finger and thumb. ‘Don’t shut me out, cara,’ he said. ‘For God’s sake, talk to me. I’m tired of this don’t-come-too-close-to-me game you keep playing.’

  Her expression flickered with a host of emotions. He saw them pass through her eyes like a burgeoning tide. They rippled over her forehead and tightened her jaw, but she spoke none of them out loud.

  ‘You won’t let me in, will you?’ he said.

  ‘There’s nothing in there.’

  ‘I don’t believe that,’ he said. ‘I know you try and pretend otherwise, but you have a soft heart and you won’t let anyone get near it. Why? Why are you so determined to deny yourself human connection and intimacy?’

  She stepped out of his hold and gave him a hardened look. ‘Didn’t my father tell you?’ she said. ‘I’m a lost cause. I’m beyond redemption. I have a streak of selfishness and self-preservation that overrides everything else. I care for no one but myself.’

  ‘If that is so then why have you agreed to sacrifice yourself for your brother’s sake?’ he asked.

  There was a hint of movement at her slim throat, as if she had tried to disguise a swallow. ‘Lachlan isn’t like me,’ she said. ‘He’s sensitive and vulnerable. He doesn’t know how to take care of himself yet, but he will. He just needs more time.’

  ‘You’re paying a very high price for his learning curve.’

  She met
his gaze levelly. ‘I’ve paid higher.’

  Angelo tried to break her gaze down with the laser force of his but she was indomitable. It was like trying to melt a wall of steel with a child’s birthday cake candle. ‘I won’t give up on you, Natalie,’ he said. ‘I don’t care how long it takes. I will not give up until I see what’s written on your heart.’

  ‘Good luck with that,’ she said airily, and sashayed to the door. She stopped and addressed him over her shoulder. ‘Are you coming or not?’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  NATALIE was handed a glass of champagne as soon as she entered the salon on Angelo’s arm.

  ‘This is such a happy occasion for us,’ Francesca said. ‘We were starting to wonder if Angelo would ever settle down, weren’t we, Sandro?’

  Angelo’s father gave a benign smile as he raised his glass. ‘Indeed,’ he said. ‘But we always knew he would only ever marry for love. It is a Bellandini tradition, after all.’

  ‘Isn’t it also twenty-first century tradition to do so?’ Natalie asked.

  ‘Well, yes, of course,’ Francesca said. ‘But that’s not to say that certain families don’t occasionally orchestrate meetings between their young ones to hurry things along. Parents often have a feel for these things.’

  ‘I’m not sure parents should get involved in their children’s lives to that extent,’ Natalie said. ‘Surely once someone is an adult they should be left to decide what and who is right for them?’

  Sandro’s dark brown eyes glinted as he addressed his son. ‘I can see you have chosen a wife with spirit, Angelo,’ he said. ‘Life is so much more exciting with a woman who has a mind of her own.’

  Francesca gave Sandro a playful tap on the arm. ‘You’ve done nothing but complain for the last thirty-six years about my spirit.’

  Sandro took her hand and kissed it gallantly. ‘I adore your spirit, tesoro mio,’ he said. ‘I worship it.’

  Natalie couldn’t help comparing her parents’ relationship to Angelo’s parents’. Her parents spoke to each other on a need basis. She couldn’t remember the last time they had touched. They certainly didn’t look at each other with love shining from their eyes. They could barely be in the same room together.

  ‘Papa, Mamma,’ Angelo said. ‘You’re embarrassing Natalie.’

  Francesca came over and looped an arm through one of Natalie’s. ‘Angelo tells me you are a very talented interior designer,’ she said. ‘I am ashamed that I hadn’t seen your soft furnishings range until I searched for it online. I cannot believe what I have been missing. Do you not have an Italian outlet?’

  ‘I’ve limited my outlets to the UK up until now,’ Natalie said.

  ‘But why?’ Francesca said. ‘Your designs are wonderful.’

  ‘I’m not fond of travelling,’ Natalie said. ‘I know I should probably do more in terms of networking in Europe …’

  ‘Never mind,’ Francesca said, patting her arm reassuringly. ‘Angelo will see to it. He is very good at business. You will soon be a household name and I will be immensely proud of you. I will tell everyone you are my lovely daughter-in-law and I will not speak to them ever again unless they buy all of your linen and use all of your treatments in their homes, si?’

  Natalie thought of her father’s dismissal of her latest range as ‘too girly’ and ‘too Parisian’. She felt more affirmed after five minutes with Angelo’s mother than she had in a lifetime with her father.

  ‘I’ll get my assistant to send you a catalogue,’ she said. ‘If you want a hand with anything I’d be happy to help.’

  ‘Oh, would you?’ Francesca’s eyes danced with excitement. ‘I’ve been dying to redecorate the guest rooms. I would love your help. It will be a bonding experience, si?’

  ‘I’d like that,’ Natalie said.

  Francesca smiled. ‘I have been so nervous about us meeting,’ she said. ‘But I am happy now. You are perfect for Angelo. You love him very much, no?’

  ‘I … I …’

  Francesca squeezed Natalie’s forearm. ‘I understand,’ she said. ‘You don’t like wearing your heart on your sleeve, si? But I can see what you feel for him. I don’t need you to say it out loud. You are not the sort of girl who would marry for anything but for love.’

  Angelo came over and put an arm around Natalie’s waist. ‘So you approve, Mamma?’ he said.

  ‘But of course,’ his mother said. ‘She is an angel. We will get on famously.’

  Dinner was a lively, convivial affair—again very different from meals taken at Natalie’s family home. At the Armitage mansion no one spoke unless Adrian Armitage gave permission. It was a pattern from childhood that neither Natalie nor Lachlan had been courageous enough to challenge.

  But in the Bellandini household, magnificent and imposing as it was, everyone was encouraged to contribute to the conversation. Natalie didn’t say much. She listened and watched as Angelo interacted with his parents. They debated volubly about politics and religion and the state of the economy, but no one got angry or upset, or slammed their fist down on the table. It was like watching a very exciting tennis match. The ball of conversation was hit back and forth, but nothing but good sportsmanship was on show.

  After the coffee cups were cleared Angelo placed a gentle hand on the nape of Natalie’s neck. ‘You will excuse us, Mamma and Papa?’ he said. ‘Natalie is exhausted.’

  ‘But of course,’ Francesca said.

  Sandro got to his feet and joined his wife in kissing Natalie on both cheeks. ‘Sleep well, Natalie,’ he said. ‘It is a very great privilege to welcome you to our family.’

  Natalie struggled to keep her overwhelmed emotions back behind the screen she had erected. ‘You’re very kind …’

  Angelo kept his hand at her back all the way upstairs. ‘You didn’t eat much at dinner,’ he said. ‘Are you still feeling unwell?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m not a big eater.’

  ‘You’re very thin,’ he said. ‘You seem to have lost even more weight since the day you came to my office.’

  She kept her gaze averted as she trudged up the stairs. ‘I always lose weight in the summer.’

  He held the door of their suite open for her. ‘My parents adore you.’

  She gave him a vestige of a smile. ‘They’re lovely people. You’re very lucky.’

  Angelo closed the door and watched as she removed the clip holding her hair in place. Glossy brunette tresses flowed over her shoulders. He wanted to run his fingers through them, to bury his head in their fragrant mass.

  ‘You can have the bed,’ he said. ‘I’ll sleep in one of the other rooms.’

  ‘Won’t your parents think it rather odd if you sleep somewhere else?’ she asked, frowning slightly.

  ‘I’ll think of some excuse.’

  ‘I’m sure we can manage to share a bed for a night or two,’ she said, looking away. ‘It’s not as if we’re out-of-control, hormonally driven teenagers or anything.’

  Angelo felt exactly like an out-of-control, hormonally driven teenager, but he thought it best not to say so. He wasn’t sure he would be able to sleep a wink with her lying beside him, but he was going to give it a damn good try.

  ‘You use the bathroom first,’ he said. ‘I have a couple of e-mails to send.’

  She gave a vague nod and disappeared into the ensuite bathroom.

  When he finally came back into the bedroom Natalie was soundly asleep. She barely took up any room in the king-sized bed. He stood looking at her for a long time, wondering where he had gone wrong with her. Had he expected too much too soon? She had only been twenty-one. It was young for the commitment of marriage, but he had been so certain she was the one for him he hadn’t stopped to consider she might say no. It had been perhaps a little arrogant of him, but he had never factored in the possibility that she would leave him. All his life he had been given everything he wanted. It was part and parcel of being an only child born to extremely wealthy parents. He had never experienced disappointment or betra
yal.

  He had her now where he wanted her, but he wasn’t happy and neither was she. She was a caged bird. She would not stay confined for long. She would do her duty to save her brother’s hide but she would not stay with him indefinitely.

  He slipped between the sheets a few minutes later and lay listening to the sound of her soft breathing. He ached to pull her into his arms but he was determined she would come to him of her own volition. He closed his eyes and willed himself to relax.

  He was not far off sleep when he felt Natalie stiffen like a board beside him. The bed jolted with the movement of her body as she started to thrash about as if she were possessed by an inner demon. He had never seen her jerk or throw herself about in such a way. He was concerned she was going to hurt herself.

  ‘No!’ she cried. ‘No! No! No! Noooo!’

  Angelo reached for her, restraining her flailing arms and legs with the shelter of his body half covering hers. ‘Shh, cara,’ he said softly. ‘It’s just a bad dream. Shh.’

  Her eyes opened wide and she gulped over a sob as she covered her face with her hands. ‘Oh, God,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t find him. I couldn’t find him.’

  He brushed the hair back off her forehead. ‘Who couldn’t you find, mia piccola?’ he asked.

  She shook her head from side to side, her face still shielded by her hands. ‘It was my fault,’ she said, the words sounding as if they were scraped out of her throat. ‘It was my fault.’

  He frowned and pulled her hands down from her face. ‘What was your fault?’

  She blinked and focussed on his face. ‘I … I …’ She swallowed. ‘I—I’m sorry …’

  She started to cry, her face crumpling like a sheet of paper snatched up by someone’s hand. Big crystal tears popped from her eyes and flowed down her face. He had never seen her cry. He had seen her furiously angry and he had seen her happy, and just about everything in between, but he had never seen her in tears.