Irresistible You (7 page)

Reuben had to admit that Elena argued a convincing case as to why Rosanna thought she was engaged to some teacher called Mark rather than an artist called Reuben, but he still had his suspicions. After all, she hadn’t exactly greeted him with open arms. He thought he could’ve at least expected a warmer welcome from her after having travelled such a long way - or at least a welcome somewhere above tepid - but no - she’d been suspicious and, unless he was becoming really paranoid, she’d looked guilty. She’d kept looking over his shoulder as if she’d expected him to have brought somebody with him and, when he’d kissed her, it had felt tense and awkward.

As they left the apartment, he confronted her.

‘I don’t think you’re telling me the truth, Elena,’ he said, kicking his suitcase which was also behaving badly.

She rolled her eyes at him. ‘You can think what you like but I
am
telling you the truth. I’m engaged to
you!
’

‘Me and me alone?’ he asked. Was it his imagination or did he see a very pronounced swallow when he asked her that question?

‘Of
course
you alone! What do you take me for?’

‘Then where’s my ring? Why aren’t you wearing my ring?
he asked, noticing the missing rubies.

‘It’s
my
ring,’ she corrected. ‘And I never wear rings when travelling. You don’t know who might be eyeing up your valuables.’

Reuben supposed that was a fairly reasonable argument and yet he couldn’t help feeling that she was hiding something.

‘I’ve got the ring upstairs,’ she said. ‘I can go and put it on – right now – if you want me to,’ she said, turning around and making to return to the apartment.

Of course, he shook his head. ‘Don’t bother,’ he said. ‘But make sure you have it on tomorrow’

‘I will!’ she replied and her eyes flickered with sudden mischief. ‘I’ll be wearing your ring and nothing else if you manage to find yourself a hotel.’

He smiled. Elena always knew exactly what to say and he felt his suspicion ebbing away. He even let her persuade him to book into the Hotel Danieli which was extravagant even by his standards. The Venetian-red palazzo seemed to glow in the rich afternoon light and he had to admit that it was beautiful.

‘It’s
so
romantic,’ she cooed as they entered through the revolving doors and took in the sumptuous splendour of the foyer. So he booked a double room with a view out across the lagoon. As he took in the Murano glass chandeliers, the antiques, the pink marble and the gold leaf columns, he knew that he’d be able to knock out a few pictures during his stay and thus recoup any money spent.

Once in the room overlooking the Bacino di San Marco, they had sex. He couldn’t use the phrase ‘making love’ because that, to him, implied something long and luxurious, and what Elena and he had was fast and furious; it left them breathing heavily and sweating profusely.

As he was gazing up at the ornate ceiling, Elena propped herself up on an elbow and, stroking an idle finger through his hair, asked, ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’

‘What?’ Reuben was still lost in the land of lust.

‘That you’re my one and only.’

‘Yes,’ he said but, quite frankly, at that moment in time, he would have said anything she’d wanted him to say.

They kissed and fell asleep and, after she left, he showered, towelling himself dry for the third time that day. Despite the sumptuous surroundings, he felt uneasy and restless and there was only one way out of that. Picking up his sketchbook, he began to draw. Black, silken hair. Soft, dark eyes. Gentle curves of shoulders and breasts. He drew them quickly and confidently because he’d been paying them so much attention.

He filled page after page until the light in the room turned into the rich amber of early evening and then he flicked back through the pages. She was beautiful, he thought, as he looked at the images he’d caught with a few brief strokes of charcoal.

Finally, he closed the sketchbook before closing his eyes but it wasn’t any good because the images were burned into his brain. She was beautiful. It was the only word he could think of to describe her, and, at that moment, he felt as if he couldn’t live without her.

He
sighed a long and weary sigh as he whispered her name under his breath.

‘
Rosanna!
’

Elena had to admit that she was shocked and shaken by Reuben’s unexpected visit and felt sure she had betrayed herself terribly. Normally, her life was beautifully orchestrated; with three fiancés, you couldn’t live any other way. Of course, she could never fully predict what Reuben, Mark and Prof were going to request from day to day but she was always the master of control. A quick:
I’m sorry, I can’t see you today – something’s come up at work
, usually did the trick. She’d never really found herself in any sticky situations, which was lucky, she knew. Maybe she’d subconsciously chosen three very understanding men but, with Reuben’s arrival, it seemed that things were beginning to unravel and that her past might be about to catch up with her. It was something that certainly seemed to preoccupy Rosanna.

‘What the hell is going on here?’ she’d hissed under her breath as soon as Reuben had disappeared to get dressed.

‘Shush! He’ll hear you!’

‘I don’t care. I think he should be made aware of what’s going on here - whatever it is!’

Elena pushed Rosanna to the far end of the living room and they sat down on one of the enormous sofas.

‘Just listen -
quietly!
’ she said.

‘You lied to me, Elena! You lied to your own sister!’

‘I didn’t lie to you,’ she said, trying to remain calm. One of them had to be calm.

‘How can you say that? How can you try and cover one lie with another? You told me you were engaged to some guy called Mark - some teacher at your school. That’s what you said! You think you can play games with me? You think you can make fun of me?’

‘I’m not! Rosanna - just listen, will you?’

‘And then you tell me that this Reuben is your fiancé! And he’s under the impression you’re engaged too.’

‘We
are
engaged,’ she said quietly.

‘So why did you say you were engaged to this Mark person, then?’

‘Because I am.’

Rosanna blinked and then her eyes stretched wide and her mouth fell open. ‘What are you saying?’

Elena took a deep breath before she answered very slowly and very calmly - to make sure that she was understood this time. ‘I’m saying that I’m engaged to Reuben and to Mark.’

There was a dreadful moment of complete silence.

‘Say something,’ Elena said at last.

‘What do you want me to say?’ Rosanna said in a voice that was so cold and quiet that it made Elena’s whole body chill in response. ‘You’re about to become a bigamist - what is there for me to say?’

Elena sighed. ‘I’m not going to become a bigamist! I’m only engaged to them. I’m not going to marry them both!’

‘Then what do you think you’re doing? I don’t understand it! I don’t understand
you!
’

‘Do you think I did this on purpose?’ Elena asked. ‘You think this is some sort of game of mine? Well, it isn’t! It’s just a situation I got myself into and I thought you might be able to help me out of it. That’s why I came here in the first place. I wanted
your help
. I was going to tell you about it all. I’d never lie to you, Rosanna!’ she said, wincing at her hollow words as she thought about Prof and how she hadn’t dared to reveal his presence in her life yet.

‘You want me to help you with this mess?’ Rosanna asked and her tone was finally a little calmer and a little less chilly.

‘Yes,’ Elena said, appealing to the virtuous side of her sister’s character; the side that would want to save her soul at whatever cost to herself. ‘I’ve messed up - big time - and really don’t know what to do. I love them both, you see.’

Rosanna’s forehead crinkled and Elena could almost read her thoughts: her shock, her anger, her great disappointment and, finally, her musings as to how she could save Elena from yet another sinful situation.

‘Are you sure?’

Elena nodded. ‘It is possible, you know.’ Rosanna shook her head but Elena took her hand in hers and repeated, ‘I love them both.’

Rosanna looked completely stunned for a moment, as if she couldn’t have been more surprised if Elena had told her she was really a mermaid and that her time had come to head back out into the lagoon. But she didn’t get a chance to respond as Reuben, fully clothed, walked through from the bathroom.

‘Ready?’ he asked, walking towards the sofa.

Elena let go of Rosanna’s hand and, for a moment, she sat perfectly still and Elena half-feared that she was going to say something.

‘Are you all right?’ Reuben asked Rosanna with a gentle smile.

Rosanna stared back at him. ‘I’m fine, thank you,’ she said.

‘It must be strange for you,’ Reuben said, ‘having a complete stranger turn up and tell you he’s your sister’s fiancé.’

Again, there was an agonising pause before she answered. Elena really wished she wouldn’t do that: it made her so nervous.

‘It’s
all
very strange,’ Rosanna said, holding Reuben’s gaze with hers but aiming her words at Elena.

‘Okay!’ Elena said, getting up.
‘Time to find somewhere for you to stay.’

Reuben and Elena had left the apartment and, as soon as they were out of earshot, he started with the questions. It didn’t take long for her to persuade him that he was her one and only and, when she saw the relief and belief flooding into his eyes, she sincerely wished that she was telling the truth.

Dear Reuben. Her passionate artist who followed her out to Venice to say he was sorry. There weren’t many men who’d do that and yet she’d been lucky enough to find one and look at how she treated him, She didn’t even have the decency to two-time him like a normal floozy, but three-timed him instead. How low could a girl go?

She was delighted when he’d booked into the Hotel Danieli because it was conveniently placed on the opposite side of Venice from Sandro’s apartment. That, she thought, would allow her the space she needed.

‘I’ll come and see you tomorrow,’ she’d promised him after a marathon sex session and vowing to herself that, in the meantime, she’d have done her best to sort things out.

Leaving the Danieli, she turned right and walked the short distance to San Marco. She looked out to the island of San Giorgio Maggiore. The early evening light had turned the water bronze and gave everything an ethereal glow. She’d never seen such a beautiful light before and she felt tears pricking her eyes as if she didn’t deserve to see such beauty. She blinked them away. Tears weren’t going to solve any problems. Tears were for the hopeless and she wasn’t hopeless: she was a rational woman who’d stumbled into a rather unusual situation but, surely, if she could get herself into such a situation, she could jolly well get herself out of it?

Yes, she thought,
think rationally
,
think positively
but, most of all,
think!
She smiled - she was beginning to sound like Rosanna.

It was strange but Elena’s feet seemed to know where they were going long before she did. She left San Marco, leading lightly through the shop-lined alleys before climbing the wooden steps of the Accademia Bridge. Then, she wound her way through more alleys and over smaller canals until, finally, they stopped – outside Viviana’s, the mask shop.

She hadn’t thought to go there – not consciously anyway, and her eyes widened in surprise when she realised where she was. She hadn’t really wanted to go in the first time so why had she come there a second time? And then, her eyes fixed on the golden mask – the very one that had arrested her attention before. It wasn’t alone in the window, of course, it had to jostle for space like the smallest child in a large family, but it was the only one she took any notice of.

Her hand hovered over the door handle for a moment before she opened it, hearing the merry bell tinkling again, and closing the door behind her.

Silence.

She looked around, half-expecting to see the old, white-haired man again but, like the time before, there was nobody about. She took the opportunity to walk over to the shop window and stretched her hand out over the myriad masks to reach the golden one. No sooner had her fingers closed around it than she heard a familiar voice behind her.

‘Can I help you?’

Elena turned around, dropping the mask back into place.

‘Sorry,’ she said automatically, feeling awkward at having tried to help herself to this man’s goods.

‘Is there a particular mask that
draws you
?’ he asked and she was immediately arrested by his use of the phrase draws you. He didn’t say, ‘Is there a particular mask you like?’ His phrase, ‘draws you’ was very precise, very perceptive, she felt.

‘Actually, yes,’ she said, pointing to the golden mask.

He joined her and, peering slowly into the window as if he were afraid he might startle the mask if he moved any quicker, he looked at the one she’d singled out.

‘Oh, no!’ he said, shaking his head vehemently as if he meant to rid himself of it.

‘But that’s the one that draws me!’ she said, repeating his own words for emphasis. ‘That’s
the one!
’

‘No, no,’ he said again, and she’d never heard the word ‘no’ said quite so emphatically. ‘Not
quite
right for you.’

‘How do you mean?’ she asked, secretly thinking he was rather mad and that he was merely steering her towards something more elaborate and more expensive.

‘I have just the mask for you,’ he said and, with that, he walked towards the door at the back of the shop and disappeared just as she heard the bell tinkle above the main door.

‘My husband is serving you?’ an elderly woman with a shock of white hair asked her.

Elena nodded, marvelling at the fact that the woman looked like a perfect copy of her husband only with flaring hips and a fine bosom at right angles to her tiny frame.

‘
Stefano!
’ she called and Elena’s eardrums trembled at the power of her voice. How could tiny people boom so, she wondered? Surely there wasn’t enough room in her frame to house such a huge voice. ‘You have a lovely lady waiting for you!’

She heard Stefano muttering something to
himself as he came into the shop again.

‘My husband!’ the lady said, shaking her head from side to side.
‘The only man in Venice who could leave the side of such a beautiful woman!’

‘Is she?’ Stefano said. ‘I hadn’t noticed,’ he added, winking at Elena before kissing his wife. ‘What man could notice other beauties when he has a wife like you?’

‘Ah! You great fool!’ she laughed, pushing him away and shaking her head again. ‘I’m Viviana,’ she said turning to Elena once again.

‘Elena,’ she said, and shook the tiny hand she proffered.

‘And what is Elena looking for?’

She shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing how to answer. But she needn’t have worried because Stefano answered before she had the chance to concoct something suitable.

‘Elena was looking at the mask in the window,’ he said, and his wife nodded immediately.

She frowned. There were dozens of masks in the window. How could she possibly know which one she was interested in?

‘The gold one,’ she explained.

‘Yes,’ Viviana said.
‘The little half-mask.’

Elena could feel her frown deepening in a most unbecoming manner. ‘Yes. How did you know?’

‘Viviana knows everything!’ she chuckled. ‘But that’s not quite the mask for you, is it?’

‘That’s just what I was telling her,’ Stefano said.

‘And what did you find for Elena?’ Viviana asked.

Stefano stepped forward and offered up a plain white box for her inspection and Viviana nodded in agreement as if she could see the mask contained within.

‘Open it,’ he said, so she did. She pulled away a couple of layers of tissue paper to discover an almost identical mask to that in the shop window, so why had he made such a fuss about finding this one for her? She picked it up and smiled as the gold shone brightly.

‘It’s a mezza neutra,’ Stefano explained. ‘Do you like it?’

‘I do,’ she said, turning it around in her hands. ‘It’s so light and,’ she paused, ‘it feels - warm!’

Stefano nodded as if he’d expected her to say those very words.

‘Almost human,’ she added, a child-like excitement suddenly overwhelming her. ‘Can I try it on?’ she asked, lifting it up to her face before he had a chance to answer but, quick as lightning, his hand stopped her.

‘No, no, Elena. Not yet. It is my gift to you. You can try it on later but not here. Not in the shop.’

‘But how do you know it will fit me?’

He smiled a tiny, knowing smile. ‘It will fit you,’ he said. ‘But you must try it on when you are alone.’

His answer perplexed her and confirmed her opinion that he was completely mad.

‘Please, you must let me pay for it,’ she said.

He shook his head.

‘Never turn down a gift from Stefano. It would be very bad luck,’ Viviana explained.