Reunited with Her Italian Ex

by Lucy Gordon

  ‘Yes, keep it up,’ she chuckled. ‘Just think how I’m going to thump you later.’

  ‘Juliet, that smile is wonderful,’ the photographer called. ‘It says a lot about the kind of marriage they would have had if they’d lived. One where he got worked up and she laughed at him. I’m beginning to think nobody ever really understands this pair.’

  ‘No,’ she murmured so that only Mario could hear. ‘Nobody really understands.’

  ‘He’s talking nonsense,’ Mario growled.

  ‘He’s grandstanding to make us play our parts,’ she said. ‘It’s his job. So we have to do ours.’

  ‘Juliet,’ Giorgio called, ‘reach up and brush his hair forward a little, around his face.’ She did so, hearing the camera click madly.

  ‘That’s it—now again—and again—gently—Juliet’s longing to caress his face, and this is her chance.’

  Natasha told herself that she was merely obeying orders, but she couldn’t hide the truth from herself. She wanted to do this—wanted to touch his face, his body, his heart. Even through the lightness of her caress she felt the tremor that went through Mario, despite his attempt to suppress it. She could sense his reaction because it mirrored her own.

  But could he suspect the feelings that were going through her at being so close to him? Suddenly, his face had softened. The grim look she saw on it so often faded, leaving a faint echo of the young, gentle man she had loved. His eyes were fixed on her intently but that might be no more than playing his part. If only she could tell.

  ‘Right, that’s it,’ came Giorgio’s voice. ‘Now for the balcony scene. Come this way.’

  The balcony at the back of the Splendido was decorated much like the one at Juliet’s house, and had the advantage of being several feet lower so that Romeo and Juliet could be closer to each other. Mario stood below, reaching up, while Natasha leaned down to touch his hand while the camera clicked away.

  ‘Perfect,’ Giorgio cried at last. ‘You two are doing a great job. It’s wonderful how well you work together.’

  They said what was necessary and followed him back to the ballroom, where another selection of garments was laid out for them.

  ‘Romeo believes that Juliet is dead,’ Giorgio said. ‘So he comes to the crypt where her body lies. He finds her there, says his farewells and takes his own life. Then she wakes, finds him dead, and she too chooses death. We’ll shoot this scene in the cellar.’

  With the maid’s help, Natasha donned a plain gown and they all went down to the hotel’s cellar, where a stone bench had been prepared for her to lie on.

  ‘Ow!’ she said, stretching out on it. ‘That stone’s really hard.’

  ‘Is it really painful?’ Mario asked her quietly.

  ‘No, I’ll be all right.’

  ‘Let me put something under your head.’

  ‘No, that would spoil it. But thank you.’

  He still looked worried but let it drop.

  ‘Walk up to her body,’ Giorgio said. ‘Look into her face as though you can’t believe it’s true. Good. Just like that.’

  Lying there with her eyes closed, Natasha yearned to open them and see Mario’s expression, to meet his eyes. But she must resist temptation and be content with the feel of his breath on her face.

  ‘Lay your head on her breast,’ Giorgio instructed.

  The next moment she felt him lying against her and gave a slight gasp.

  ‘Now kiss her,’ Giorgio said,

  She braced herself for the moment his mouth touched hers. It was the faintest possible sensation but she told herself to endure it.

  ‘Again,’ Giorgio said. ‘Remember, you’ve lost the only woman in life that you could ever care about.’

  Mario kissed her again before laying his head once more on her breast. At last Giorgio called out that the scene was over.

  ‘Now for the big one,’ he said. ‘The moment when they meet.’

  In the ballroom Natasha donned the glamorous gown and watched while the maid worked on her hair. When everything was ready Giorgio guided ‘Romeo and Juliet’ into position.

  ‘It’s during the ball. Juliet is standing there, watching everyone, particularly Paris, the man her parents want her to marry. But then she sees Romeo watching her. Their eyes meet.’

  Mario turned his head so that he gazed at Natasha. She gazed back.

  ‘He advances towards her,’ Giorgio continued. ‘That’s right, Mario, a little nearer. He takes her hand, and asks forgiveness for touching her because he says he isn’t worthy. But she says he is.’

  Now Natasha’s hand was clasped in Mario’s. He was close to her, watching her intently.

  ‘And Romeo dares to steal a kiss,’ Giorgio said triumphantly. ‘Go on. Let’s catch that on camera.’

  Gently Mario dropped his head, laying his lips on hers.

  ‘Good,’ Giorgio said. ‘But I wonder if we should do it again. Natasha, it might be more effective if you put your arm around him.’

  ‘It’s too soon for that,’ she said quickly. ‘She doesn’t yet know how she feels.’

  ‘Nor does he,’ Mario said. ‘How would Romeo kiss her at this point? Would it be like this?’ He laid his lips briefly over Natasha’s. ‘He might do it respectfully because however much he desires her he fears to offend her. Or is he a shameless character who simply takes what he wants, like this?’

  His arm went around her waist, drawing her against him, while his mouth covered hers firmly and purposefully.

  She was stunned. The brief, light kiss he’d given her a few moments ago hadn’t prepared her for this. Instinctively, her hands moved to touch him, but she snatched them back, unsure whether she would embrace him or push him away. She understood nothing except the disturbing pleasure of his lips on hers, and the maddening instinct to slap his face.

  For two years she’d wanted to be in his arms, dreamed of it while mentally rejecting it in her rage at his betrayal. Now the sweetness of holding him again struggled with fury at his assumption that he could do as he liked and she would have to accept it.

  But she could not repulse him. Whatever common sense might dictate, she must appear to react to him blissfully and chance what the future might bring. She let herself press against him, eager to feel his response, and then—

  ‘All right, Giorgio?’ Mario cried, standing back. ‘Is that what you want?’

  Natasha froze, barely able to believe what had happened. It seemed that the feelings that had pervaded her had been hers alone. Had he felt anything beyond the need to get the photographs right? Fury simmered inside her.

  ‘That’s fine,’ Giorgio said. ‘Do it just like that, for the camera.’

  Then Mario’s hands were on her again, drawing her nearer so that he could lay his lips on hers and hold her against him, unmoving. She could feel the warmth of his mouth, of his whole body, and her own responded to the sensation whether she wanted it to or not. Her anger flared further.

  Somewhere in the background she could hear the sound of a camera, clicking again and again until at last Giorgio called, ‘All right, that’s it. Well done, you two. Now let’s think about the next scene.’

  ‘I need a little fresh air first,’ Natasha said, quickly slipping out of the nearest door into a corridor.

  She ran until she reached a corner behind which she could hide. She must escape Mario lest he suspect that she’d just discovered the power he still had over her.

  But when she looked around she found him facing her.

  ‘Did you follow me?’ she demanded.

  ‘I thought that was what you meant me to do. Don’t you have something you want to say to me?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I have a thousand things,’ she said furiously. ‘You’ve got a nerve, doing what you did back there.’

  ‘Kissing you, you mean? But you owed it to me. When we parted you never kissed me goodbye.’

  ‘I never thumped the living daylights out of you either, which I was surely tempted to.’

  He s
eemed to consider this. ‘So you think I deserve to have you slap my face? Very well. Do your worst.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘Go ahead. Slap me if it will make you feel better.’

  He jutted his chin out a little and stood waiting.

  ‘Stop talking nonsense,’ she snapped.

  ‘I mean it. You can do what you like and I promise not to retaliate.’

  ‘This is all a big joke to you, isn’t it?’

  He shook his head. ‘My sense of humour died the day you left. In the weeks I spent trying to find you I buried it deep underground. So what now? Aren’t you going to hit me?’

  ‘Certainly not. It would be unprofessional. I might leave marks on your face that would spoil the next photographs. The matter is closed.’

  He saluted. ‘Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say, ma’am.’

  ‘Oh, stop it—stop it! Stop trying to make a fool of me, of yourself, of both of us.’

  Suddenly, his manner changed. The wry irony died and a bleakness came into his eyes. ‘You silly woman,’ he said quietly. ‘Don’t you realise that we all have our own way of coping.’

  ‘And that’s your way? Well, this is my way.’

  Without warning, the swift temper she’d vowed to control swept over her, driving her to do something she knew was madness. She seized his head in her hands, drew it down and covered his mouth with her own. At once she could feel his hands on her and sensed the same confusion as she had felt herself—to deny the kiss or indulge it joyfully?

  But he was going to indulge it. That was her decision, and she would give him no choice. She slightly softened the pressure of her mouth so that the kiss could become a caress, her lips moving over his in a way she had once known delighted him. She sensed his response in his tension, the sudden tightening of his arms about her.

  Now she was ready to taunt him further. The pressure of her mouth intensified, and his breath came faster as his excitement grew. His lips parted as he explored her more deeply. He was no longer merely receiving her kiss but returning it in full, seeking to take command but not succeeding. The command was hers, and she would keep it whether he liked it or not. Her spirit soared. She was winning.

  He drew back a little. ‘Natasha—’

  ‘Take warning, Mario. Two can play this game. You won’t defy me again. If you do I’ll make you sorry.’

  She felt him tense, saw his eyes full of disbelief as he understood her meaning. Then it was all over. ‘You had to do that, didn’t you?’ he rasped. ‘You had to tease me—make me think—but it wasn’t a kiss. It was revenge.’

  ‘Revenge can be very sweet,’ she said, pushing him away. ‘That’s one of the things I learned from you. Did you think you were going to get away with what you did back there? You just had to show me that you were the boss, and how I felt didn’t count.’

  He shook his head. ‘You won’t believe this,’ he said in a hard voice, ‘but I kissed you because I wanted to. I’m ashamed of that now because it seems so stupid to imagine that you had any kindly feelings left. But, idiot that I was, I thought some part of you might still be the old Natasha, the sweet-natured girl I loved and wanted to be with.

  ‘But you warned me about that, didn’t you? You told me that Natasha was dead. I couldn’t believe it, but I believe it now. You did this to get your own back by reminding me of what I’ve lost.’

  ‘You lost it because you didn’t want it,’ she said.

  ‘Keep telling yourself that,’ he said quietly. ‘In the end you may come to believe it. In those days I wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman. And I could have told you that if you hadn’t vanished when you did. You landed us in this desert, not me. You did it by losing your temper and acting without thinking anything through. 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.’

  ‘Stop it! Stop it!’ she screamed, turning away from him with her hands over her ears.

  ‘Yes, the truth can be very painful, can’t it? I could have devoted my life to loving you. Instead, I’ve come so close to hating you that it scares me.’

  ‘Well, at least that’s getting the truth out into the open. You hate me.’

  ‘I didn’t say that. I said I came close to hating you. I’ve never been able to take the final step, but I have a feeling that will come soon.’

  She made no reply. The unexpected glimpse he’d given her of his own feelings had set off an aching misery inside her. He didn’t hate her, but he would if he could. She wanted to scream and bang her head against the wall.

  She turned away but he pulled her around to face him.

  ‘You won’t let me tell you my side of it and I think I know why,’ he raged. ‘Because you’re a coward, Natasha. You’re afraid to know the truth. If you had to face the terrible thing you did, you couldn’t bear it. Everything could have been so different for us if you hadn’t condemned me so quickly.’

  She didn’t reply. Something inside her choked the words back before they could escape.

  ‘If you knew how I planned that day,’ Mario said. ‘I’d told you that I had something important to say to you. I was going to ask you not to go home, to stay with me, become my love.

  ‘My relationship with Tania was never serious. She was a very experienced woman who surrounded herself with various male “friends”. I knew I wasn’t the only man in her life but it didn’t trouble me because I wasn’t in love with her and she wasn’t in love with me.

  ‘But when I met you, things changed. Suddenly I no longer wanted “a bit of fun”. I wanted something serious and I wanted it with you. Nobody else. Just you. So I met up with Tania and I told her that we couldn’t see each other any more.

  ‘She was angry, but I thought she understood. Then it happened. She descended on us; you disappeared. If you could have seen what I went through trying to find you, how deep in despair I was—well, I guess you’d have enjoyed it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have believed it,’ she retorted. ‘You? In despair, when you played the field so easily?’

  ‘I’d done with playing the field. That life was all over for me. And if I could have explained that—made you understand… But what’s the use? You only believe what you want to believe.’

  She stared at him, trying to take in his incredible words. It was as though she’d become two people—one recoiling from him, one reaching out, longing to know more.

  ‘Are you two there?’ Giorgio’s voice came along the corridor.

  ‘We’re here,’ Mario called back.

  ‘Ah, good.’ Giorgio appeared around the corner. ‘Time to get changed back into normal clothes. No more photographs today, but we’re going to see Romeo’s house.’

  Natasha escaped to the dressing room and rid herself of the costume. It was a relief to don modern clothes and become herself again. Juliet could be banished, at least for a while.

  The longer the better, she thought, staring into the mirror and brushing her hair fiercely so that it fell down over her shoulders. It looked like spun gold in the afternoon sunlight. Once Mario had made a joke about it; ‘my dangerous blonde bombshell’ he’d said in a teasing voice.

  ‘I’m not dangerous,’ she’d protested.

  ‘You can be when you act on instinct. Some of your instincts could scare a man.’

  ‘Do I scare you?’ she’d teased.

  ‘You could if I scared easily.’

  Today he’d told her frankly that her headstrong temper had done much to part them.

  Suppose I’d stayed to listen to his ‘explanations’, she thought. Should I have done that? Should I have trusted him? No! No!’

  She scraped her hair back as tight as it would go. When she was satisfied with her appearance she went down to join them.

  Romeo’s house was just a few minutes away from Juliet’s and could only be seen from the outside.

  ‘It looks like a fortress,’ she said, ‘with those battlements.’
/>   ‘A lot of buildings were created like that in those days,’ Giorgio said. ‘Half of the city was almost permanently at war with the other half, hence the fight between the Capulets and Montagues.’

  ‘Buongiorno!’

  A cry from a few feet away made them turn to see a man hailing them. He seemed to be in his forties, tall and strongly built, and Natasha recognised him as a member of the Comunità that she had met on the first evening.

  ‘You should have told me you were coming,’ he said, giving her a hug.

  ‘I wasn’t sure until the last minute,’ Mario said.

  ‘Come and have coffee with me. My hotel is just around the corner.’

  As they walked there Giorgio dropped his voice to say to Natasha, ‘Mario would have avoided this meeting if he could. That’s Riccardo, the rival who tried to challenge him for the presidency of the Comunità. He’s very wealthy, owns more vineyards than any of the others, and likes giving orders just as much as Mario does.’

  ‘You said Mario got him to back off.’

  ‘Yes. Not sure how, but the rumours say some of Riccardo’s business dealings wouldn’t bear inspection.’

  ‘You mean Mario threatened him?’

  ‘I doubt if it was a blatant threat. That isn’t Mario’s way. He’ll just make a remark that only one man will understand—and fear. Riccardo dropped his challenge very suddenly. Mario isn’t a man you tangle with, not if you’ve got any sense.’

  Riccardo’s premises were lavish and decorative, even more so than the Dimitri Hotel. Wherever Natasha looked she could see that money had been spent without restraint. It might well appear that Riccardo was a man who could challenge Mario, but after only a few minutes seeing them together Natasha sensed that this could never happen.

  Riccardo was afraid of Mario. That was the incredible truth. And Mario was content to have it be so. The young man who had once enjoyed getting his own way by charm now used power to bend people to his will.

  He had blamed her for disappearing, leaving him to search frantically until finally he had accepted despair. She had resisted the accusation, but now it troubled her more than she could face. This man scared other people, but admitted that she scared him.