Irresistible You (10 page)

Rosanna always loved the brief boat ride to the island of Murano. It was normally packed with tourists and it was usually a squeeze to find somewhere to stand as few people wanted to sit indoors when you could watch the progress of the boat across the lagoon stopping, on its way, at the island of San Michele, where everyone would strain their necks to try and get a peek at the graves without actually leaving the boat.

The water usually helped her to think but she didn’t think anything could have eased her mind that morning. She’d left Elena in the apartment with her fiancé, or, rather,
one
of her fiancés. The other, of course, was at one of the most expensive hotels in Venice. Two fiancés, Rosanna tutted aloud to herself. How on earth had she managed to do that? She knew Elena’s track record but she’d never thought that anything like that would happen. And to have them both turning up at the apartment!

Rosanna thought of her first encounter with Reuben and could feel her face flushing as she did so. It wasn’t because he’d been dressed only in a towel, which had been embarrassing enough on its own, but it was how she had felt. She closed her eyes and tried to recall it. It was warm, it was tingly, and it was incredibly disturbing because she hadn’t felt like that since school. Yes, that was it, she thought: it was like having a crush - that strange phenomenon she’d thought you left behind once you became an adult, but here she was experiencing the self-same feelings - for her sister’s fiancé.

This was terrible. Did she really have a crush on Reuben? It couldn’t possibly be anything more than that, could it? She’d only met him yesterday. It was outrageous to suppose that the emotion was anything more. She’d be in dreadful trouble if it was. No, she reasoned, he was just a very attractive man who’d happened to be standing half-naked in front of her. What normal red-blooded Italian girl wouldn’t respond to something like that?

But, the thing that was worrying her was that she couldn’t remember ever having responded that way to Corrado. There’d been no adrenaline rush. Her heart hadn’t fluttered inside her. Not once had she blushed when he’d looked at her. Was that normal? Did that mean she didn’t love Corrado? Or, should the question be, did it mean she was falling in love with Reuben?
Oh!
Elena had got her so confused with her ideas about each person having so many possible partners and how impossible it was to choose just one but, even so, she shouldn’t have been thinking about the physical beauty of one of her potential brothers-in-law. It wasn’t right. In fact, it was probably illegal.

Leaving the boat, and attempting to put any illegal and incestuous thoughts firmly out of her mind, Rosanna made her way to the heart of Murano, towards the street where Signore Vapori lived. He owned a tiny apartment above an antiques shop which he ran and it was stuffed full of beautiful objects which he’d have her pose alongside. She’d been naked under a chandelier, naked on an oak chest, naked on an eighteenth century chair and, the latest one was naked with a teddy bear - antique, of course. She’d never forget her horror as he’d handed the bear to her last week and told her to place it in her crotch. She didn’t want to think about where else this teddy had been. It didn’t look as if it had ever been washed in its long lifetime, and she was sure she could smell something unsavoury on its fur. But, she was being paid to do this and, no matter how strange it was, she reminded herself that it was preferable to many other jobs she could’ve ended up doing.

There were two ways she’d found to cope with such situations: she would either pretend that this was the greatest living painter she was sitting for and that this painting was her passport to eternal fame or, and this was her favourite, she would work out how much she’d earned that month and what she could spend it on if she so chose. Her mind would drift over the latest lipsticks and expensive perfumes to velvet scarves she’d seen draped gently over a mannequin or the latest season’s stylish boots. These thoughts would usually keep her occupied until she was given a tea break when she’d pull on her robe and have to make polite conversation. This too, she’d learned, was a necessary survival tactic. She’d soon discovered, after a couple of near-misses, that she should be polite but with an air of aloofness. A lot of her clients dabbled in art as a hobby and would forget that the woman who’d been sitting in front of them with no clothes on was actually doing it for the money and not to titillate them. Occasionally, if she felt a client was becoming particularly frisky, she would say something like,
And how is Signora Vassallo?
Or,
My fiancé, Corrado, got into a fight at the weekend! Can you believe it? A grown man fighting in the streets!
But she only used that one in extreme cases.

But, as she sat for Signore Vapori, she realized that he was far more interested in the old stuffed teddy than he was in her body and she felt herself relaxing or rather dwelling, once more, on the peculiar events of the last couple of days.

Reuben. Her mind wouldn’t leave him alone. She didn’t even know his last name. All she knew were the brief facts that Elena had told her. And that he was very handsome. She’d never seen a man with long hair before. Well, it wasn’t long like hers but it was almost shoulder-length, and it was so dark. That was another thing, once he was dressed, she’d noticed that he was wearing black from head to toe. She’d always thought she was rather cautious with colour - going for muted tones and subtle hues but she’d never gone as far as that. Strangely enough, though, she quite liked it.

No! No!
No!
She mustn’t keep thinking about him! She must put him firmly out of her thoughts.

‘Miss Montella!’

A voice suddenly startled her out of her thoughts.

‘Signore Vapori?’

‘Could you please loosen your grip on the bear? You’re strangling him!’

Rosanna looked down and noticed that, in her agitation, her hands were, indeed, throttling the poor teddy to within an inch of his already threadbare life.

*

After three hours of posing with the smelly teddy, Signore Vapori paid her. Luckily, he didn’t deduct any money for her near-murder of his beloved toy, and she got the boat back to the mainland. Arriving back at the apartment, she couldn’t help feeling a little relieved to find she had it to herself. She didn’t think she could face Elena, not after the appalling thoughts had been having about Reuben.

She was just slipping out of her clothes for a shower before heading out for tea with
La Stronza
when the doorbell went. Grabbing her modelling robe, she ran down the stairs. Either it was Elena, having misplaced her key already, or another one of her secret fiancés, she thought to herself. But, she was wrong. It was Reuben.

Rosanna stood, transfixed in surprise. It was as if she’d conjured him up out of her thoughts but, now he was here, she wasn’t at all sure what to say to him.

‘Hello,’ he said, sounding a little nervous.

‘Hello,’ she said back, sounding even more nervous than he did.

‘Can I come in?’

‘Elena isn’t in,’ she said quickly.

‘That’s okay. Actually, I wanted to talk to you.’

‘I’m on my way out,’ she said before realising how rude she sounded.

‘Oh.’

They stared at each other for a moment.

‘You look like a model in that robe,’ he said.

‘I am. I mean - this is my modelling robe. I model,’ she explained very badly.

‘You do? I was going to suggest you do. You’ve got a great figure.’

Rosanna’s mouth dropped open. Had he really just said that?

‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled, looking down at his boots and kicking them against one another. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’

‘No! It’s okay,’ she said, anxious that he shouldn’t think he’d offended her. ‘Elena didn’t mention I was a model, then?’

‘No. To be honest, she doesn’t really talk much about her family.’

Rosanna nodded. ‘No. I don’t expect she does.’

‘Why is that?’

Again, she was surprised by his question. ‘Well, I’m not sure that’s for me to say.
Especially not dressed in my modelling robe on the doorstep.’

Reuben gave a slight smile and she noticed the dimples in his cheeks. She wished she hadn’t because she couldn’t take her eyes off them after that.

‘Look, I’m sorry, but I have to go out,’ she said again.

‘Would it be possible for me to stay here and wait for Elena? I have a feeling that we’re going to keep missing each other
otherwise, do you know what I mean?’

Rosanna looked at him. He still had an edge of suspicion hovering around him, and who could blame him? But what was she meant to do? What if Elena came back to the apartment with Mark in tow only to find she’d let Reuben in?

‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’

‘No?
Why not?’

‘I think you’d be better waiting for her at the Danieli. In fact, she’s probably there now, wondering where you are.’

‘You think so?’

‘Yes,’ she said, trying to dispel the image of her walking hand in hand by the Rialto with Mark.

‘Look,’ Reuben began, ‘I don’t mean to be rude about your sister, but I think she’s doing her best to avoid me and I want to know why.’

Rosanna could see the pain in his eyes as he spoke. He looked as if he was speaking from the very centre of his being and she felt absolutely awful because she didn’t know what to say to him.

‘I’m sorry, but I really have to get ready to go out,’ she said.

He examined his boots again like a lost schoolboy and it made her heart bleed. Her bloody sister! What did she think she was playing at - leading these two wonderful men on? For a dangerous moment, Rosanna wanted to tell Reuben everything about Elena. It would be an emotional scene, of course: she’d wring her hands and curse her sister to the sky and Reuben would probably tear up a few of Sandro’s canvasses in his passion but then she’d comfort him and the tears would turn to kisses…

‘Rosanna? Are you okay?’

Blinking hard to dispel the fictional image that was floating, so beautifully, before her eyes, she looked at Reuben.

‘Look,’ she said, ‘why don’t you come inside whilst I get ready? I’ll make you some coffee.’

‘Thanks,’ he said softly, and followed her up the stairs.

Mark wondered where they were going. They’d been on the go for twenty minutes and had walked over the Rialto Bridge and still hadn’t reached their destination. But he trusted Elena knew where they were heading. Anyway, he was enjoying a bit of sightseeing on the way. The late morning sunshine sparkled like thousands of stars caught in the water of the Grand Canal. He had his first glimpse of a gondola and almost wrenched his neck out of joint at the precarious angle the gondolier was standing at whilst moving at such a great pace. He wondered how much it would be to hire one. They certainly didn’t seem to be short of business, he thought, counting the number of couples out on the water, but he knew that they were outrageously expensive and that his wallet wasn’t that well-padded.

They walked by dozens of shops which all seemed to be selling the same things: brilliant masks, glass in colours that blinded the eyes, and ropes of beads which glowed in the sunshine. But they didn’t stop to shop.

‘I like your sister,’ he said as they left the shops behind and walked over yet another bridge in the bid to find a hotel he could afford.

‘Don’t start that again,’ Elena snapped.

Mark blinked. It was, he thought, an odd response for what was meant as a compliment.

‘What do you mean?’ He looked at her. Her dark eyes were cast down and her brow looked as if it had been ploughed by a very angry farmer. It wasn’t the sort of face you wanted to see on a bright spring morning in the middle of Venice.

She sighed.
‘Nothing. I meant nothing. It’s just that everyone likes Rosanna.’

‘Oh. Well, that’s good, isn’t it?’ he reasoned.

‘Of course,’ she said.

Mark couldn’t think how his comment could have upset her. ‘You are strange,’ he said with a half-laugh.

She turned and glared at him. ‘How?’

‘The things you say sometimes. The way you look.’

‘How do I look?’

They stared at one another.
‘Confused.’

Bang on cue, she gave him her best
confused
look yet. ‘That’s stupid! How do I look confused?’

‘You just do,’ he smiled.

She tutted and walked on.

‘Elena?’

‘What?’

‘What’s the matter?’

She stopped and placed her hands on her hips and he knew he was in trouble. It was a stance every man dreaded. ‘Nothing’s the matter! Why do you think something’s the matter?’

‘Because you’ve hardly said a word to me all morning.
I came out here to talk to you and you’re doing a good job of preventing me.’ Mark swore her dark eyes turned even darker at that moment and, if he hadn’t been made of such stern stuff, he might very well have high-jacked the nearest gondola and fled there and then.

‘I didn’t ask you to come out here,’ she said.

He wasn’t at all surprised by her comment as he knew it would be flung at him sooner or later and he supposed sooner was preferable as it would give him a chance to sort things out.

‘I know you didn’t.’

‘Well, stop blaming me for -’ she stopped in mid-sentence.

‘For what?
For not being over-thrilled to see me?’

‘That’s not fair, Mark.’

‘Isn’t it? I’ve come a long way to see you, you know,’ he said. ‘I even got on a bloody plane. Do you know how terrified I am of planes?’

Her angry mouth opened into a circle of surprise and he instantly felt appalled at having made her feel so guilty.

‘You’re the only person in the world who could get me on a plane,’ he added, wishing he hadn’t mentioned it at all. He hadn’t meant to but she could be infuriating at times and he wanted her to see what he was willing to do for her.

She looked over her shoulder at a stretch of murky canal. Mark thought about crossing the brief space and placing his hand on top of hers as she rested it on bridge but he also wanted to see what she’d do and hear what she’d say but, just as he was sure she was about to say something, a group of school-children filed between them, their voices loud and echoey. He watched Elena through the spaces that they made as they jostled and pushed each other, and he slowly convinced himself that she was never going to speak to him again.

When silence filled the streets once more, he said, ‘You came out here for a reason, didn’t you?’

She turned back to face him again. ‘Of course I did. I told you. I came to see Rosanna.’

‘No, no,’ he shook his head, pleased that she was still speaking to him but annoyed that she still wasn’t being honest. ‘It’s more than that.’

There was a few moments’ silence as if they were both waiting for the other to speak first.

‘Why are you being like this?’ she asked at last.

‘Like what?’

‘Why do you keep asking me all these questions?’

‘Why are you being so secretive?’ he fired back.

A passer-by gave them an odd stare before walking on and leaving them facing each other across the bridge.

Mark scratched his head. ‘I don’t know what it is but I always get the feeling you’re hiding something from me. I don’t know how else to explain it. It’s like I’m only seeing a little part of you and that you’ve locked the rest of yourself away.’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Elena said. It was just the kind of bland, uninformative response he knew he’d get.

‘I sometimes get the feeling that you don’t love me enough. Is that what this trip is all about?’

Again, the silence between them was palpable but there was no taking the words back now. It was something he’d been dreading saying. He’d been holding it back and holding it back but the thought kept on surfacing and he had to have some kind of answer, even if it was an answer he really didn’t want to hear. He loved Elena - more than he could possibly tell her - and he’d come out to Venice in an attempt to make sure that things worked between them but, ever since he’d arrived, he’d been dogged by doubts and threatened by fears.

‘You asked me why I came out here,’ she began in a subdued voice, ‘but I think I should be asking you the same thing.’

‘And I’ve told you - I wanted to talk to you about all this.’

‘It looks like you came out here to break up with me. Well, it would have been cheaper if you’d waited for me to come home!’

‘NO!’ he yelled. ‘Elena!’ He could feel his whole face scrunching up in consternation. It was all getting out of hand and he felt he was making a real mess of everything. It wasn’t meant to have snowballed out of control like this. ‘I came out here to
stop
us from breaking up! The feelings I kept getting from you - I don’t know - I’m not explaining it very well - but we don’t ever talk at home. And I don’t see you much outside of work. I don’t even know what your flat looks like. I mean, what do you do when you’re not at the school? I want to know!’

He could feel his heart racing. All these words - all formed from these paranoid worries he had about his relationship with Elena - were pouring out in an uncontrollable torrent. What was wrong with him? Couldn’t he be a normal bloke and just make the most of what he’d been given? Why did he have to go and question everything? Things had been good between them. They had just as much chance as the next couple at making a go at things so why was he prodding and poking about?

‘I’m sorry,’ he said at last. ‘You’re right. I shouldn’t be asking you all this.’

Elena shook her head. ‘No,’ she said very quietly. ‘It’s okay. You’ve got every right.’

Mark looked at her closely, watching as she blinked slowly, not once looking up at him. ‘You’re not angry with me?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘In fact, I should have been honest with you from the start.’

Mark’s mouth felt dry in anticipation. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting her to say but it seemed an age before she spoke.

‘I don’t know how I feel,’ she said at last.

Mark frowned. It wasn’t exactly the sort of confession he’d expected. ‘What?’

‘You said you wanted me to be honest - that you felt I wasn’t being open with you. Well, now I am.’

Her eyes met his and he could feel himself burning up with shock.

‘God!’
It was all his brain could come up with. But what had he expected? He’d confronted her, demanding an honest answer and he’d got one, so surely he should have been pleased? Except he hadn’t really expected this reply.

Neither of them spoke for a couple of minutes. It was as if they were allowing their words time to settle before they examined them in any detail. To be honest, he was terrified of saying anything else. He could see they weren’t going to get much further with things today. Elena looked tired and on the verge of tears and he felt he’d be pushing her right out of his life if he tried to talk to her anymore.

‘Elena,’ he said softly, crossing the bridge to stand next to her. ‘I don’t want to leave things like this today but I think we both need a bit of time to think things over.’

She nodded and he stroked her hair and the soft skin behind her ear which he loved so much. She looked so sad and he desperately wanted to kiss her but he didn’t.

‘Can I come and see you tomorrow?’ he asked.

She nodded again. ‘Where are you going to stay?’

He shrugged. ‘Somewhere cheap. Not too far away from you.’

‘Okay. Come over in the evening.’

And that was it. There were no kisses or hand holding or hugs. She simply turned and walked away from him and, for the first time since losing Marmaduke, his cuddly toy cat, when he was five years old, Mark felt like crying in the street in front of everybody.