‘Matteo, it’s not that I don’t want to. I do, but I just can’t.’
Matteo inhaled, taking in a long deep breath, steadying his nerves, his hopes and his desires. ‘Charlie, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I hope you know that.’
She laughed then, soft and low and a little shaky. ‘I do want to, I want to more than anything. But it’s not that simple.’
‘You don’t have to explain.’
‘You see, I know you want your memories to return in their own time and I respect that. But there are things you don’t know, important things, and sleeping with you, making love with you, when we...’ She stopped and looked up at him imploringly. ‘I just can’t, much as I want to. It wouldn’t be right.’
Matteo’s heart swelled with love for her, for her bravery, her honesty. He’d hoped for more time to win her over, win her back, but he needed to repay bravery with bravery, honesty with honesty. ‘I know, Charlie. I remember.’
‘What do you remember?’ she half whispered.
‘That we separated, started divorce proceedings, that I let you down. That I’m a fool who let you go. That I’m sorrier than you’ll ever know.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHARLIE STARED UP at Matteo, shock and relief warring in her heart ‘You remember? How...when?’ The words could barely form themselves.
‘Yesterday, when you told me that things have been difficult over the last year it struck a chord. All night I had vivid dreams. I don’t know if they were memories but this morning everything just seemed a little bit clearer; that’s why I went for a walk. I went through everything I knew and after I fell the clouds cleared and I remembered it all.’
‘I see.’ Charlie sat down heavily on the nearest lounger and stared at her hands. ‘Then why did you ask me not to even mention the past...?’ She began to feel a little bit sick as she remembered the earnest expression on his face as he’d asked her to give him some time. Was it some kind of game? But no, for all his faults, Matteo was straight as a die. He would never play with her like that; he wasn’t dishonest.
‘Charlie.’ He knelt before her, taking her unresisting hands in his. ‘I can’t tell you what a shock it was to go from thinking that we were about to get married to remembering the mess I’ve made of everything. I needed time to process it before talking to you about it. And...’ He took a deep breath.
‘And?’ she prompted him.
His grip tightened on her hands. ‘Carlotta, cara, the car accident, the reason I was in that car was because I was coming down to see you.’
‘You were? But why?’
‘Oh, Charlie. When I got back from New York and you were gone I told myself it was for the best. I agreed to the divorce because I knew that’s what you wanted. It felt like I should go along with your wishes, make the separation as easy as possible. I owed you that at least. But then I realised I would never forgive myself if I just let you walk away without telling you how I felt, trying to win you back. I needed to ask you to give me one more chance. I guess I was a little distracted, trying to figure out what to say, my attention wasn’t properly on the road.’
‘You were coming to see me?’
Matteo nodded. ‘Maybe it was wrong of me not to tell you this morning, and wrong of me to ask for a little bit more time. I just wanted to bring you here, to show you that I don’t always break my promises, that I can be spontaneous and put you first. I wanted to show you how our marriage could be, not how it was. I guess—’ he smiled ruefully ‘—I wanted to win you back. I want to win you back.’
‘I see,’ she said slowly. ‘You think I’m the kind of girl you can seduce with delicious pizza, ice cream and a luxury hotel suite with incredible views?’ She twisted to look out at the lit-up city. ‘Fair play. I guess I am exactly that kind of girl.’
He smiled then, slow and sensuous, and her heart jolted.
‘Matteo, I want you to know that I didn’t want to lie to you. I wanted to tell you about our marriage straight away, not bring you here and pretend everything was okay. But the doctor said not to give you any sudden shocks and she seemed so worried about you. When she said you might have died...’ She could hear the tremble in her voice, felt her throat close with threatened tears. ‘I never did stop loving you; I hope you know that. Hearing how close you came to dying just made me realise how much. But love was never the issue, was it? Our lives are just so different; what we want is too different for us to be together.’
‘Maybe we’re a little bit wiser now? Charlie, losing you, receiving those damn divorce papers and knowing I was just six weeks away from setting you free made me re-evaluate everything. And then fate stepped in, gave me the chance to reset the clock, to live as if we were still fresh and new, reminded me why you’re the best thing that happened to me. It’s been a wake-up call. What do you think, Charlie? Is there any way that we can start again?’
How she wanted to say yes. How she wanted to lean into him, to kiss him until neither of them could think any more, to stagger through to one of the bedrooms entwined around him, kissing every step of the way, and to allow him to make love to her while she made love right back as if this really was the honeymoon he’d promised.
‘I don’t know, Matteo. I don’t want to allow myself to hope and then for nothing to change. I don’t know if I can go through being let down again.’
‘I can’t make you promises about what won’t happen; I can’t see into the future. But I can promise that I’ll do my best, Carlotta, cara.’
There was so much else to say, so much else to think about, but Charlie was tired. She was tired of grieving, she was tired of hurting, she was tired of lying. All she wanted to do was to feel and to love and be loved, for tonight, at least. Slowly she rose to her feet, drawing him up with her and stepping in close so their bodies touched and she fitted right in against him, just like she always had, as if they were made for each other.
‘I’m tired of talking, Matteo,’ she said. The expression in his hazel eyes was unfathomable as she reached up to cup his cheek. ‘I’m tired of talking and I’m tired of thinking. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, I don’t know if we have a future, but there’s now. We can live for now. Help me forget, Matteo.’
He didn’t move for a long moment, just stared at her with that unreadable expression. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.’ Charlie raised herself onto her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his. It wasn’t the most seductive, the most practised kiss, but her heart was in her lips and with it she expressed everything she didn’t have the words for. How much she wanted him, how much she desired him, how much she wished things had been different. How glad she was that he was here, standing next to her in this beautiful place, how all she wanted was for him to take her inside, strip her clothes from her and make her forget.
Matteo stayed stock-still for a second longer and then, with a muttered curse, he returned the kiss hard, covering her mouth with darkly sensuous intent and sweeping her up in his arms as if she were the petite dancer she’d wanted to be, not a five foot eight, long-legged woman. Still kissing her, he strode through the penthouse suite and into the master bedroom, where he laid her carefully on the bed as if she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen and stood back, looking at her in a slow appraising manner that sent ripples of need shuddering through her.
Slowly, intently, Matteo removed first one of her sandals then the other before running his hands up her bare legs, and she shivered beneath his touch.
‘Sit up,’ he commanded, his voice low and guttural, and slowly she obeyed, allowing him to unzip her dress, wriggling to help him slip it off her, until she sat there in just her bra and pants. Matteo stood back, surveying her again, silent as he swept his gaze down her body. She could feel the track of his eyes as if he were touching her, her flesh tingling where his gaze fell.
&nb
sp; Nearly two months had passed since she’d left him; it had been two weeks before that when they’d last made love and that had been a sad, farewell lovemaking as if they’d known what lay ahead, slow and sweet, not like this dark, simmering passion igniting between them.
‘Your turn,’ she said, holding his gaze, challenging him.
Slowly, intently, Matteo unbuttoned his shirt, one button at a time with slow, strong fingers until at long last he slipped it off and began to unbuckle his belt. Now it was her turn to look at him, to glory in the play of muscles on his shoulders, the deep olive skin, the smattering of hair on his chest, tapering into a line on his stomach. For ten days she’d lain on her sun lounger next to this magnificent body, desperate to touch it, and now here was her chance. She waited until he stepped out of his trousers, then reached out and ran one finger down his chest slowly, a light caress. Matteo stood still, only the faintest quiver showing how much her touch affected him as his eyes darkened with passion. They stayed there for another long moment until she reached one hand out towards him.
‘Come here.’
Matteo needed no further invitation. In an instant he was beside her, around her, enveloping her, kissing her, touching her in all those sweet, secret places that belonged to him. Charlie returned the kisses and caresses, biting softly into the skin on his shoulder, running a hand up his arm, glorying in the muscles of his stomach, reaching down to cup him until he moaned, stilling her hand.
‘Damn, Charlie. Not yet.’ And then it was her turn to moan as his mouth moved down her throat, dropping light teasing kisses on the tops of her breasts as his hand slid down her body to find the very core of her. She moved under him with little half cries as he stroked her expertly until she pulled him to her, sighing in sweet relief as he completed her. He was hers, and she was his. And nothing could change that. For tonight at least.
* * *
Charlie had no idea what time it was, but as she stirred and opened her eyes she noticed how the moon streamed in through the windows. Matteo slumbered next to her, his arm slung possessively around her, and for a moment all she wanted to do was to nuzzle in against him, breathe in his sharp, spicy scent, luxuriate in his hard, toned length and go back to sleep. But her brain had cranked into gear with the opening of her eyes and so, after a moment, she slid carefully out of the covers and padded over to the window. Leaning against the sill, she stared out at the now sleeping city, only a few lights dotted here and there showing she wasn’t the only person awake. Despite the clear sky, the stars were faint, thanks to the streetlights, but the full moon hung low and bright.
The night was warm, so warm she didn’t need her nightgown or robe, safe in the knowledge that as no windows faced her nobody could see her as she stood at the window wearing nothing but the light of the moon. Charlie had never minded nudity, always happy for a quick skinny-dip or to sunbathe in some secluded spot. It was one of the many things about her that she knew Matteo found simultaneously amusing, arousing and frustrating. He was far more of an always keep a bag with a swimsuit and a towel in the car just in case instead of a shed your clothes and take a chance kind of guy. And that had been part of the charm, coaxing him into taking a chance, letting caution fly. She’d loved the fact that opposites really did attract.
She couldn’t help but smile, slow and secretively, as she relived the previous couple of hours. They were living proof that opposites attracted, were still attracted. But was that attraction enough? With that thought any last trace of sleepiness fled. Instead her mind was filled with all the thoughts she’d been trying to suppress ever since she’d made the decision to bring Matteo to Italy. After all, she could have deposited him safely in Kensington with a paid nurse and an excuse for her absence, sent him to a secluded luxury hotel. But she’d wanted to come here, wanted to look after him, to snatch a last few days with him.
Had wanted to make love with him again.
What was she doing? When would she learn to think before she acted? Surely, surely she’d learned her lesson over the last few days. Her chest constricted until she yearned for air, space. Creeping to the bathroom, she extracted her silk robe from the back of the door and wrapped it firmly around her then, with a last glance at the still peacefully sleeping Matteo, she slipped out of the bedroom and into the living room.
Charlie hadn’t had a chance to explore the well-stocked bar before, but luckily there was enough light for her to find and open a bottle of mineral water and put some ice into a glass. She poured herself a large drink, collected her book from the table and a soft throw from the sofa and slid open the door to the terrace, breathing in the cooler night air. Was it still night-time or was it very early morning? At what point did it tip from up too late to up too early?
Wrapping the throw around her, Charlie lay down on one of the loungers and stared up at the night sky, her book unopened in her hand.
‘Can’t sleep?’ She started, looking up to see Matteo leaning against the door, clad in just a pair of boxers slung low on his hips. Desire trembled through her, despite all their exertions to quench it earlier that night.
‘It seemed a shame to waste this gorgeous terrace when the moon is so beautiful,’ she said, smiling at him. But he didn’t smile back, his brows drawn together in query.
‘Having regrets?’
‘No, no, not at all. I was just...’ she hesitated ‘... I was just wondering what happens next.’ She laughed a little shakily. ‘I know—most unlike me. That’s your job, isn’t it?’
‘Then you tell me not to worry about the future, that it usually takes care of itself. Let’s just live in the moment.’
Charlie shivered as she heard her words parroted back to her, echoing the thoughts preoccupying her mind. ‘Maybe that’s not always the best philosophy after all. I guess I’ve been thinking a lot over the last few weeks. Thinking about where we went wrong, about the part I played.’
Matteo pushed himself off the door frame and, hooking a chair, placed it next to her, sitting down and taking her hand. ‘Your part? I don’t want to be some kind of martyr here, but I thought we both know what went wrong. I wasn’t around, physically or emotionally. I expected you to accommodate me and didn’t stop to think about what you wanted. There’s a list of my unreasonable behaviour in those divorce papers. Very chastening. I told my lawyer to work with yours to make it as speedy and as easy as possible so you could get the divorce straight away but I didn’t expect it to be such hard reading.’
Charlie winced, drawing her knees into her chest and wrapping her arms protectively around them. ‘It’s a horrid process. I’ll be honest; that list was cathartic. I genuinely felt that you didn’t compromise at all and I compromised too much. But it’s not that simple, is it? We both had a role to play in what went wrong and I need to acknowledge my part in that. And we both know that the truth is we didn’t really know each other when we got married. If we had been sensible, if we’d waited then either we would have ironed out those problems earlier or we would have separated long before we got to that point. Which would still be hard, but not as hard as a divorce. And that’s on me.’
* * *
Matteo stilled. He had thought that nothing would be as hard as returning home to realise Charlie had gone and he’d not lifted a finger to stop her, that nothing could be as hard as reading the list of behaviours deemed unacceptable and realising he couldn’t argue with any single one. But seeing Charlie curled up, her expression unusually serious, eyes clouded and voice full of heartbreak was possibly the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
‘Hey,’ he said, deliberately keeping his voice light. ‘What do you mean? I proposed to you, remember? If anyone was to blame for the speed of our marriage it was me.’
But she shook her head vehemently, dark blonde, honey, copper and bronze tendrils trembling as she did so. ‘Come on, Matteo. We both know that I pretty much goaded you into it,’ she said, and although her voice wa
s still serious and her eyes darkened to navy her mouth trembled with the beginning of a smile.
‘You most certainly did not.’ His outrage wasn’t entirely feigned.
She uncurled then, turning to look at him, and he couldn’t stop himself reaching out to run a finger down the curve of her cheek. She leaned into his touch, eyes half closed.
‘I was completely in control of every moment of that proposal,’ he told her and she regarded him provocatively from under heavy lids.
‘We had gone to the beach and I was telling you about a friend of mine who had just been blindsided by a ridiculous proposal.’
‘Not everyone would think that someone organising a flash mob outside her favourite café was ridiculous,’ he interjected and she raised an eyebrow.
‘Anyone with any sense would. You said to me that you thought flash mobs and big events would be completely up my street and I said that actually I thought nothing was worse than a public proposal. I told you how much I hated planned proposals full stop and the worst way to propose to me would be with a carefully chosen ring already bought and hidden and waiting for the perfect moment in a perfect restaurant in a perfect city. I told you...’
‘You told me,’ he said softly, ‘that your perfect proposal would come out of nowhere. The moment would just be so perfect that one of you would just know that this was it, that you were meant to be, that they would just ask. Right there, right then with no ring and no pre-planned words. Just in the moment. And we walked a little longer and then we paddled and you fell in and as I pulled you up I asked you to spend the rest of your life with me. Because I knew.’ He could never have forgotten, no matter what happened, that moment of perfect clarity.
‘Yes, but you wouldn’t have if we hadn’t just had that conversation. I put the thought there. Oh, not on purpose, but I did all the same. You wouldn’t have even dreamt of it otherwise.’
Winning Back His Runaway Bride Page 9