Chapter 16
Reaching for the sheets, Nat pulled them out of the box, unwrapping the first one and refusing to pay any heed to the knot in her gut.
She flipped the frame over briskly, businesslike, mentally chastising her hesitancy until her eyes instantly connected with an eerily familiar pair of blue ones and everything in that moment crashed to a halt.
Nat’s heart stopped in her chest. Her breath stilled in her lungs. The synapses in her brain ceased to function. The frame fell from suddenly nerveless fingers and slid off her lap. A loud rushing noise echoed in her head and she couldn’t hear anything above the roar.
A terrible, dreadful sense of déjà vu swept through her, paralysing her with its ferociousness.
It wasn’t until her lungs were burning, bursting for breath, and her vision started to blacken at the edges that her body kicked into survival mode and she took a noisy, desperate breath, her lips pursed into a tight pucker.
She coughed and spluttered as it rushed in, abrading her oxygen-starved membranes.
Falling forward, Nat extended her arms to stop herself collapsing altogether. She hung her head, eyes squeezed tightly shut as the coarse white carpet pricked at her palms. She gripped it hard as she gasped for more breath.
Gasped for… sanity.
It felt like hours could have passed when she finally opened her eyes and the world slowly came back into focus.
Camilla’s clear blue eyes looked calmly back at her from the frame on the floor.
A small smile hovered on the other woman’s perfectly made-up lips, like she’d got everything she’d ever wanted in life and she knew it.
A splash of moisture fell on the frame and Nat blinked.
She felt her cheeks, surprised to find tears running down her face.
The same sort of face that looked back at her from the glass.
Same blue wide-set eyes, same blonde ponytail, same high cheekbones, generous mouth and pointed chin with the cutesy-pie cleft.
Nat shook her head as her earlier thoughts came back to haunt her. Did it matter what she looked like? She couldn’t believe it had only been mere minutes ago that she’d been that na?ve. That she’d ever been that na?ve.
Picking up the frame, Nat stared at the familiar contours of the other woman’s face. Their resemblance was uncanny and the knowledge punched her in the gut.
They could have been sisters. Her and Alessandro’s dead wife.
Climbing awkwardly to feet on legs that felt about as substantial as dental floss she clutched the frame, standing motionless as she stared at the dead woman’s face, feeling like her heart had been ripped out of her chest and been stomped on repeatedly.
Feeling rage and impotence and desperation in equal measure as the awful, awful truth sank in.
She was in love with Alessandro.
In love with a man who was still so in love with his dead wife he’d chosen a lookalike replacement with no thought to the consequences.
Her sense of loss was so profound not even the sobs that were choking her chest, threatening to strangle her, could find an outlet. She could hear a low kind of keening and knew it was coming from her, but didn’t seem to be able to stop.
It was like Rob and her father all over again. Worse. Way worse. She’d had to compete with two women in her life for the affections of men she’d loved deeply. But at least those women had been alive. How did she compete with a perfect memory?
A ghost?
And, goddamn it, why was she always the bridesmaid and never the bride with the men in her life? Why was she always second choice? Wasn’t she good enough? Lovable enough? Her father had left her for a new family. Rob had left her for an old one. And Alessandro? Well, he’d obviously never been hers.
Nat heard a little voice inside her ask the question she’d never allowed herself to ask. Had always felt selfish even thinking it. What about me?
‘Nat! Nat!’
Nat jerked as Juliano came haring into the room, jumping up and down. She hugged the frame to her chest automatically as Juliano babbled on.
‘Papa and I have cooked the tea. It’s his nonna’s recipe from Roma and it’s so delicious.’ He paused, bunched his fingertips together and kissed them for dramatic effect, like Nat had seen Alessandro do the other night in the kitchen.
Minutes ago, she would have laughed; now she wasn’t sure she’d ever laugh again.
‘He said as long as it’s okay by you I can go and play with Flo in the back yard but I have to make sure I wash my hands afterwards before I eat dinner because that’s just good hygiene.’
Nat blinked, her sluggish brain catching up with Juliano’s rapid chatter several seconds later. She noticed some movement in her peripheral vision and glanced up to see Alessandro lounging in the doorway in the half-light, like a big lazy cat.
She looked at him helplessly. Even now, even knowing what she did, even mad as hell, her body still responded to his blatant sexuality.
‘Nat!’
Her attention returned to the excited little boy in front of her, hopping from one foot to the other. ‘That’s fine.’ She nodded.
‘Yippee-ee!’ Juliano took off, heading for the sitting room and calling for Flo.
Which just left the two of them.
Pushing off the doorframe, Alessandro prowled towards her, his intent to kiss her clear in those dark, sexy eyes. ‘How many boxes to go now?’
Nat took a step back as he advanced, her heart skittering in her chest as she realised she’d never feel his mouth on hers again. She saw the moment he clocked all was not well, a frown slowly spreading across his forehead.
‘Nathalie!’ He took two quick steps towards her. ‘What’s wrong?’
Nat took another step back, snatching her arm away as he reached for it. He stopped abruptly, his frown deepening. ‘Nathalie?’
God, why must he call her that now? So personal, so soft, the name he called her in bed. Turning the frame around like a shield against the memories, she said, ‘When were you going to tell me about this?’
His gaze flicked down and he didn’t move for long moments as he looked at the photograph. ‘Ah,’ he said, sliding his hands into his pockets.
Nat felt the casual comment right down to her toes. ‘Ah’? He knew. No what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about frown. No immediate this-isn’t-what-it-looks-like explanation.
He knew, too.
Oh, God – it all made so much sense now. The way Juliano had looked at her that first day like he’d seen a ghost. Followed by Alessandro’s own, more subtle but definitely, looking back at it now, stunned reaction later that same day. And more recently, Valentino’s double-take.
She shoved the frame at him, pushing it hard into his abdominal muscles and releasing it as his fingers closed around it. ‘Is that all you’ve got?’ she demanded.
His face was the grim mask of old. She couldn’t tell whether he was desperately searching for an explanation to give her or whether he just didn’t give a damn.
She scrubbed at her face. ‘You know, Alessandro, I knew you had an ulterior motive when you asked me to stay. I knew you wanted me to be some kind of substitute mother. But I had no idea what you really wanted was a substitute wife!’
‘No!’ His denial was swift and certain. ‘You are nothing like her.’
Nat couldn’t tell whether it was an affirmation or an insult. She stabbed her finger at Camilla’s frozen face. ‘That’s not what I see.’
‘Trust me,’ Alessandro intoned. ‘The resemblance is only skin deep.’
Nat snorted. ‘Trust you?’ She stared at him incredulously. ‘Why should I do that? When you haven’t trusted me. Hell, Alessandro, you had the perfect opportunity to tell me the night Val visited. I asked you why Val had looked at me so strangely. And you dismissed it.’
Nat shook her head, feeling an edge of hysteria building. ‘No wonder you weren’t keen for me to find these pictures. Why weren’t you just upfront with me from the beginning? Why didn’t you say, ‘Gee, Nat, you look freakily like my beloved dead wife’?’
A tear splashed down her cheeks as he took a step towards her, opening his mouth as if he was about to explain, but Nat took a swift step back in vehement rejection. She realised she didn’t want to hear it. She wasn’t prepared to give him an inch. Alessandro Lombardi had already taken his mile.
Several of them.
‘God,’ she wailed. ‘This is just like Rob all over again. Like my father. Playing second fiddle to another woman.’
‘It’s not like that,’ he said, his voice sharp with denial.
But Nat was too busy wondering how she could survive this.
She’d bounced back from her father – mostly.
She’d had the love, understanding and support of her mother and other family.
And her sunny personality. And she’d come through the Rob nightmare too – a little more bloodied and battered but still with belief in herself and in others.
It wasn’t going to be like that this time, though.
Nat knew without requiring any deep thought or analysis that her love for Alessandro far outweighed anything she’d ever felt for Rob.
The slow gentle realisation of feelings that she’d experienced with Rob was chicken feed compared to this all-encompassing bubbling cauldron of desire and emotion Alessandro had marinated her in these last magical weeks.
She looked at Alessandro’s emotionless face. He’d retreated behind that mask again; the only sign that any of this was affecting him was the clench of his jaw. ‘Did you ever just want me for me?’
He flinched at her accusation but Nat got no pleasure from his response. It was a startling thing to admit to herself. But she knew she was right. While she’d been falling in love he’d just been using her body to try and erase or maybe rekindle the memory of his wife.
Loving the one he was with.
It certainly explained his insatiability. The almost desperate way he reached for her every night. Pounding away deeper, faster, harder, like he was afraid she’d evaporate in his arms if he wasn’t constantly touching her.
‘I think I’ve more than adequately shown you how much I desire you.’
Nat looked at him with rage in her gut. Desire? He might as well have reached into her chest and ripped out her haemorrhaging heart.
‘This isn’t about sex, Alessandro,’ she hissed dismissively. ‘It’s about love.’
He visibly blanched. ‘Love?’
Nat flushed. She hadn’t meant to blurt it like that but her chest had swollen with a mix of emotions that threatened to crush her and the truth had tumbled out. She was damned if she was going to back away from it, though.
‘Yes, Alessandro, love,’ she threw at him. ‘I’m sorry, I know what we were doing wasn’t supposed to be love but it happened anyway. I guess I’m not quite as callous as you.’
Gaping at her, he raked his hand through his hair. ‘Nathalie…’
Nat shut her eyes and shook her head vigorously. ‘No. Don’t say anything.’ She couldn’t bear to hear any platitudes. ‘I’ll be out of your hair before you know it.’
He blinked. ‘You’re leaving? But… your place won’t be ready for weeks yet. What about Juliano? You can’t just up and leave with no notice. He adores you.’
Nat felt a sob rise in her throat. Yes, Juliano adored her. But he didn’t. Not quite the impassioned plea she’d hoped for, even though somewhere inside she felt a surge of pride that he was at last thinking like a father.
Thinking about his child even before himself.
And he was right – leaving Juliano would be heart-wrenching too. She loved the boy as much as the father. But at least she knew they now had each other.
She shrugged. ‘I’ll tell him something has come up and a friend needs me.’
‘Where are you going to go?’
Nat didn’t have a clue. All she knew was she couldn’t stay here another minute.
She felt like she was bleeding and it was sure as hell going to make a mess on Alessandro’s perfect white carpet.
‘I don’t know. Peyton’s maybe. A hotel.’ She shook her head.
‘Frankly, I don’t care. Just away. Far away from here. ’
She headed across the room trying to skirt around him as much as possible but he was so damn big and he snagged her arm before she could make her escape. ‘Please,’ he murmured, his voice low, his gaze hot on her profile. ‘We need you.’
Once upon a time that would have worked. But she was tired of men needing her too much and not loving her enough. Now she knew the true depths of love – its power, its breadth – she knew she couldn’t settle for anything less.
Nat shook her head, refusing to look in his direction as he detained her on the spot. ‘No, you don’t. Not any more. You two are going to be just fine.’
The phone rang and they both looked at it, Nat suddenly becoming aware of the surroundings outside her immediate circle of misery. ‘You’d better get that,’ she murmured, pulling out of his grasp, her heart breaking into tiny little pieces as she turned away.
Alessandro ignored it, calling ‘Nathalie,’ as she walked out the door.
But Nat didn’t respond; she just kept going, the desire to run from him crippled by her overwhelming misery and the weight of her heart in her chest. But still, she took the stairs two at a time, determined to pack and get the hell out of Dodge as soon as possible.
Ignoring her belongings scattered around the room, Nat concentrated on getting her clothes only – she’d arrange to get the rest of her stuff at another time.
Packing through tears blinding her progress and shaking hands was a chore, but she managed it surprisingly quickly.
Or maybe that was just a sad indictment on how lightly she travelled through this world.
When Alessandro strode into her room fifteen minutes later she was just about done.
‘Stop packing,’ he commanded.
Refusing to even look at him, Nat gave a harsh laugh and a quick, ‘Go to hell.’
‘That was the ID director from St Auburn’s. The baby yesterday we screened for the swamp flu tested positive. As of now we’re both on seven days’ home quarantine. I’m afraid you’re going nowhere.’