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She took it from him gingerly and put it down on the nearest flat surface, knowing that she had to get rid of him before she did something stupid. Like breaking down, or begging him to pull her into his arms and kiss away her heartache and her aching sense of loneliness. ‘Is there anything else?’ she enquired coolly.
‘Actually, there is. I’m curious and perhaps you can assuage my curiosity. I assume that the money I paid you was used to help your brother and his family—because I sure as hell can’t see any of the new furniture you claimed to need.’ His gaze flicked over her. ‘I mean, why all the mystery, Nicola? The evasion and obfuscation? The double life you appear to have been leading...the brother who’s actually in prison, not “away” as you euphemistically put it?’
She shook her head, stupidly wishing she’d had a chance to brush her hair. But it was pointless wanting his eyes to grow warm with desire or affection, because that ship had clearly sailed. Suddenly this became about defending her position. About battling for some kind of recognition and respect, as she’d done so many times before.
‘You want to knowwhy?’ she demanded, her protective cloak of calm slipping away from her. ‘You think I was ashamed of my past?’ She nodded. ‘Well, yes. Maybe some small part of mewasashamed and maybe you would have been, too, if you were me. Because while we were both born illegitimate, our circumstances couldn’t have been more different. Oh, don’t worry—I’m not trying to raise you on the poverty stakes. But the fact is I grew up in aslum, Alessio—with a mother who lived a very dodgy life. She went missing for long periods and we never knew where. My little brother and I were always cold and never had enough to eat and...’ Her voice grew a little shaky as the harsh reality of those days came rushing back. ‘Whatever food we had, I always gave to Callum, and sometimes I used to steal my classmates’ sandwiches for myself, if I thought I could get away with it. There!’ She looked at him defiantly. ‘Are you shocked?’
But his stony features showed no reaction. ‘Go on.’
Nicola sucked in another breath. She’d bottled this up for so long it was as if someone had suddenly shaken that bottle, so that all the words were pouring out. ‘Most of my energy was spent battling the social services who wanted to take us into care. They threatened to split us up and I was never going to allow that to happen. Maybe I should have done,’ she added bitterly. ‘And then Callum wouldn’t have ended up getting in with a bad crowd and forging a useless career as a thief. Or maybe I set him a bad example by nicking those sandwiches.’ She walked to the other side of the room, hoping the movement would divert his attention from the fact that she was trembling.
‘I had to fight for everything I’ve achieved,’ she continued huskily. ‘And I’ve done it by leaving that girl far behind. I had to learn to fit in with the new world I inhabited and was always terrified someone was going to find me out, and judge me. It was a bad case of imposter syndrome. That’s why I felt safe here, in my own little place, because I’d never had that before. And okay—I never invited you round before, but you weren’t exactly begging me to visit you in Manhattan, were you, Alessio? Our two worlds were never supposed to have met, let alone blended.’ She stared at him, unable to keep the sudden flare of hope from her heart. ‘Nowdo you understand why I didn’t tell you?’
But he shook his head—his expression stubborn and intractable. ‘I would have preferred to have known the truth, no matter how unpalatable,’ he said coldly. ‘Remember, I told you so much about myself. I confided in you big-time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same, could you, Nicola?’ His eyes were as icy as the deceptively blue autumn sky outside. ‘When it came to the crunch, you just didn’t trust me.’
His accusatory words stung her skin like tiny barbs and it took a moment or two before she could answer, her words sounding small. ‘Maybe I don’t trust anyone.’
‘Well, what do you know?’ he said sarcastically. ‘Mutual distrust. Not much of a basis for anything, is it, Nicola?’
And suddenly Nicola was scared by all these twistyfeelingswhich were rising to the surface inside her, like scum in a pan of boiling bones. How dared he take the upper hand—as if he’d done everything right and she’d done everything wrong? Maybe nothing had really changed since her childhood, because no matter what she said, or did, she always seemed to be condemned for it.
‘I don’t understand why you’re reacting like this,’ she said, her temper beginning to flare. ‘Because a woman with a messy life was expressly what youdidn’twant. How many times did you tell me you liked me because I was cool and aloof? The ice-maiden image turned you on—admit it! My supposed mystique was one of the things which attracted you in the first place, and my composure is what made you realise I’d be a good bet to take to Tuscany. And yes, it ended up being more than that—but our relationship was never intended to last, was it, Alessio? You told me that, too—in no uncertain terms. You spelt it out very clearly that you didn’t want marriage, or children—in fact, you didn’t wantanykind of commitment. Was I supposed to ruin our brief affair by dumping a load of unsavoury stuff on you, which you didn’t need to know?’
Alessio shook his head, unable to shake off the disappointment which was pressing down on his shoulders like a leaden weight. He wondered how he could ever have doubted his instincts. Not just his instincts but his experience of women. He had thought she was too good to be true and he had been right. Well, he had heard her out. He had listened to the reasoning behind her behaviour and it was difficult not to feel some compassion for what she had told him. But that didn’t change the fact that he felt betrayed by her, and, surprisingly, that hurt.
Why?
Because he had mistakenly imagined some sort of bond to be growing between them? Maybe. At times his feelings had been behaving like cells on a Petri dish—multiplying and expanding in all directions without any input from him. And that was something he hadn’t expected. Or wanted. His lips hardened. Because this was the reality of relationships—subterfuge and manipulation, smoke and mirrors—and he didn’t need it. He didn’tneedpain and he certainly didn’t needher. His life was easier without any kind of emotional complication. It was as simple as that. A sudden sense of freedom washed over him and he expelled a long sigh of relief. What a lucky escape he’d had. And he wondered if she had any idea how effectively she’d shot herself in the foot.
‘You didn’t tell me anything until you had to, until your back was up against the wall,’ he accused softly. ‘I wonder, would I ever have discovered more if there hadn’t been a medical emergency?’
‘Who knows?’ A pulse was hammering at the base of her throat. ‘I suppose I imagined that sharing secrets was the precursor to deepening a relationship—but ours was always flailing around in the shallows, wasn’t it, Alessio?’
But Alessio shook his head because getting into pointless debate was a time-suck, when the only thing which mattered was regaining his freedom. ‘I’m glad your nephew is okay,’ he said, unable to miss the faint flare of light in her grey eyes and—just in case she thought he was leading up to something equally tender-hearted—he curved his lips into a smile he knew to be cruel. Because, despite everything, he liked her and she had been through too much to waste any of her precious life pining over a man like him. Better she hated him than imagined she loved him. ‘And I wish you every success in the future, Nicola,’ he finished softly. ‘Please believe that.’
But it was with an unexpected wrench of his heart that he forced himself to turn away from her shimmering blonde beauty and let himself out of the tiny apartment.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘SOLD?’NICOLASTAREDat the glimmering bronze statue with a sense of uncertainty, before redirecting her disbelieving gaze towards Sergio. ‘You mean, someone’s bought it?’
‘I do.’ Her boss nodded, his lips twitching. ‘Thatiswhat usually happens when something gets sold, Nicola.’
Dutifully, she offered an answering smile, telling herself that only a very stupid person would be sad to see the back of something which served as a daily reminder of the thing she was most missing. Not just the sex—though, of course, that was a pretty unforgettable part of it. No. A lump lodged in her throat. It washimshe was missing most of all. Alessio. The brilliant chemist with the looks of a movie star. She’d tried telling herself it shouldn’t be this hard to forget him, because he’d never been around that much. But he had always been a constant in her thoughts. If ever she’d felt low or wistful, it had been enough to conjure up the memory of his brilliant eyes and hard body, or something he’d said which had made her laugh. She had basked in the knowledge that he was part of her life and always looked forward to their next meeting.
Surely that emphasised the fact that theirs had never been arealrelationship but simply a construct of transatlantic sex sessions. Yes, they had eaten dinner together and taken the occasional trip to the theatre or cinema and once, memorably, to Brighton, where they had walked along the pebbled beach and dodged the waves and she had confessed how much she’d always wanted to live beside the sea. But that shouldn’t be enough to produce this intense level of heartache, which wouldn’t seem to go away. She ought to begladthat the wretched bronze was finally leaving the gallery—and she could cut her ties to the Italian scientist for ever.
Even so, she was unable to quell the tiny splinter of hope which pierced her heart as she regarded her boss. ‘Who’s bought it?’
‘Ross Fleming—a new client. Has a place by the sea in Cornwall. He wants it as a surprise for his wife, apparently.’
‘Oh.’ Her heart gave a lift-shaft plummet. ‘How...nice.’
‘It’s being shipped out tomorrow—but he wants someone to supervise the installation and it’s all a bit of a rush.’ Sergio smiled in the manner of somebody just about to offer a huge bonus. ‘You wouldn’t mind going down to Cornwall, would you, Nicola? Tack on a couple of extra days and make a break of it, hmm? Put some colour back in your cheeks.’
Going to Cornwall was the last thing she felt like doing. She wanted to hunker down with a good book, or go and see Jago and watch him kick his chubby little legs in the bath. But Nicola recognised that Stacey was in the process of forging a deep relationship with her son as they prepared for his daddy’s release and they needed to do that together, without her crowding them.
She gave a bright smile. Of course she would go. Sergio thought he was doing her a favour, and hadn’t he been ultra-diplomatic for weeks now? Refusing to ask a single question about why Alessio di Bari had been so keen to get his hands on her address. He’d even resisted commenting on the unusual fact that she hadn’t been able to sell a single painting since the Italian billionaire’s departure.
