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She lifted her coffee cup and sipped it, barely tasting the weak, warm drink. She had been holding it for almost an hour, all the while waiting for the reality of her situation to seep into the comprehension centre of her brain. But her coffee was almost empty, and still, nothing made sense.
Jane tried to look at her situation with Carlo in a rational way, but it still made no sense. At first, he’d been demanding and adoring. He’d shadowed her like a sexy, intense lover. He’d made her think she was more valuable than all the diamonds in the world. Their wedding had been simple. A registry office affair in Chelsea, followed by
lunch at an exclusive restaurant in Belgravia. They’d spent their wedding night in his London home, and honeymooned on a small island he owned off the coast of France.
But almost as soon as they’d arrived in Rome, he’d become distant. He’d found ways to keep her from coming to evening events he was obliged to attend, and after awhile, she’d been so offended that she’d stopped asking. He’d kept going, though, and her lonely life had been forged.
Jane had left him, because she could no longer stand being a peripheral, probably unwelcome, part of his life.
And he’d let her go.
So what if she’d tried to make a new life for herself? It’s not like she’d fallen into bed with Roger a week after leaving Carlo. It had been a year after their divorce, and he’d been the only one. She’d felt disgusting after sleeping with him. Like she’d somehow erased Carlo from her body and mind, by sleeping with another man.
Poor Roger had been summarily dismissed, and never spoken to again. Even the idea of resuming a friendship with him had felt impossible.
Carlo did not deserve her allegiance. He had pulled her into his web, overpowering her completely, and in every way. Once he’d had her where he wanted her, he’d ceased to find any value in her.
“You know, you should try coffee the Italian way.”
Jane frowned at the unwelcome intrusion, and lifted her head to locate the source of the voice. “Excuse me?”
“You’re American?” The man asked, his handsome face twisting into a smile as propped a hip against her table. A gesture of comfort, she presumed he was settling in for a chat. The very last thing she wanted.
“No,” she demurred, looking across the square instead. She stared at the ornate detail on the front of the church, waiting for the man to move away. He didn’t.
“Australian?”
She smothered a sigh and flashed him a tight smile of dismissal. “No.”
“Ah! You are going to make me guess, eh?” His accent was different somehow to Carlo’s. His manner was different too. This man was handsome and friendly, but Jane had no interest in being chatted up.
“No,” she said again, shaking her head from side to side.
“You look sad. Who can be sad in a place as beautiful as this?”
She drained her coffee cup of its cool dregs and slid her glasses down onto her nose. “Excuse me.” She stood uneasily from the table, giving the man a distant smile as she moved away from the café.
She wondered, as she stepped brusquely away from the man, why Carlo had brought her back into his life. What did he want with her? Or was it simply that he could no longer have her, and he didn’t like losing? She made a noise of self-directed frustration. What the heck did it matter what Carlo wanted? Any time she got caught up with him, she ended up getting hurt. Badly. Her own needs should have been paramount in her thoughts; not Carlo’s.
She moved blindly across the square, somehow managing to dodge and weave her way through the busy crowds. A school tour moved past her and she waited for them to disappear around a corner before carrying on her way.
She stepped out onto the road, wondering if she’d be able to get on a flight that day. She didn’t see the car. It sped around the corner, as cars in Italy often tended to, and would have collected her on its shining bonnet if a tall, muscular man hadn’t looped an arm around her waist and pulled her back onto the sidewalk.
“Oh my goodness,” Jane murmured, lifting a hand to her throat. She looked up to thank her benefactor, and was surprised to see the man from the café. “I was in my own world. I should have been watching where I was going.”
The man nodded. “You would most certainly be little more than a smudge if I hadn’t seen you. See? You should have stayed and talked to me, no? Too beautiful a day to be sad, definitely too beautiful a day to become a traffic statistic.”
Jane shook her head. Was it a beautiful day? She hadn’t noticed. She looked now, and saw that the sky was blue, and the sun was shining. She frowned, as she realised she’d dressed in a sweater and long pants, when a summery dress would have been more appropriate.
“What is on your mind?”
“A long, sad story,” she said with a note of determination in her voice.
“Come, let me buy you a prosecco and hear all about it,” he invited. While she gave him full marks for persistence, she still had no interest in the handsome stranger.
“No, thank you. I’m fine. I’m very appreciate you were here, though.”
The man didn’t release his grip on her arm. “I don’t think you understand, Jane Lang. You’re coming with me.”
