She was glad now that he had stopped making love to her that night he had taken her to his home. Glad that he had been brutally honest with her, however painful it had been at the time. If they had had a short-lived affair, if he had been the sort of man who had strung her along with the well-used glib line about ‘seeing how things went’, she wouldn’t have been able to stand it when he had walked away from her. She was an all or nothing woman. She had never seen it so clearly in all her life. And as it couldn’t be all, it had to be nothing.
Chapter 10
Maisie found her thoughts of the previous night put to the test the next day. The morning was promising to be hot when Blaine arrived at seven o’clock, and the drive down to Sorrento’s harbour where they were boarding the boat for Capri was under a sky as blue as cornflowers. Not that Maisie noticed the colour of the sky; it could have been bright pink and covered in polka dots and she still wouldn’t have noticed. She was having too much trouble adjusting to the sight of Blaine in an open-necked black denim shirt, his black jeans, tight across the hips, designer cut and revealing the awesome length of his legs. She had never seen him dressed so casually before; normally he was in his workday suits or expertly cut trousers and crisp shirts and he looked good enough in those. Today, though, the magnetism that was at the heart of his flagrant masculinity was emphasised ten-fold.
By the time they reached the golden island on the Gulf of Naples Maisie had herself under control, though. It helped that Blaine seemed totally unaware of his ability to turn her legs to jelly. In fact overnight he had metamorphosised into the perfect ‘just friends’ companion, eager to show her all there was to be seen, amusing, communicative and thoughtful. Immediately they stepped off the boat Maisie could understand why Augustus had described Capri as the ‘city of sweet idleness’, its cliffs that descended rapidly into the sea and gardens bedecked with subtropical vegetation amazing. Already captivated by the bewitching island, everything was made so much better by Blaine’s lazy insistence of holding her hand as he showed her the sights.
They visited the luminous caverns of the Blue Grotto, the Gardens of Augustus, with stunning views stretching to the jutting needles of the Faraglioni and Pizzolungo rocks, and later the equally stunning views from the summit of Monte Solaro. They ate exquisitely prepared seafood risotto and insalata Caprese, made with mozzarella and home-grown tomatoes, at a harbourside restaurant at Marina Grande, before thoroughly exploring the maze of alleyways and squares of the main town. They had coffee and pastries at the popular La Piazzetta during the afternoon and sat for a while watching the world go by, before more exploring.
It was a wonderful magical day, the beginning of several as Blaine held true to his promise to show her more of his beloved Italy over the next weeks. Maisie found it was impossible not to look forward with a physical ache to these golden sojourns out of reality, and that was what they were, she kept reminding herself once she was back at his parents’ villa and alone again. Blaine himself had emphasised this, not so much by what he said and did but by what he didn’t do and say.
He held her hand but there were no passionate embraces. He kissed her, as a friend would kiss a friend, on the cheek and never on the mouth. His arm would slip round her waist on occasion, but never to bring her into him or press her closely against the length of him. He spent each day they were together being nothing more than an amusing and captivating companion, taking her to exclusive hotels, little waterside bistros and enchanting cafés but never for romantic candlelit dinners to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. He was playing it totally above board and utterly fairly, and it was slowly driving Maisie to distraction.
And then, suddenly, it was her last week in Italy. July and August had come and gone and the beginning of September was round the corner.
It had only really sunk in she only had a few days left that day, Maisie thought, sitting at her bedroom window as she watched the sky, a river of cinnamon, vermilion and deepest gold, display its beauty at sunset. Blaine had taken her swimming at an out of the way sandy cove he knew about and they had lit a small fire and had a barbecue for two on the beach in the afternoon. She had found the day particularly difficult, the sight of Blaine in a pair of black swimming trunks and nothing else had caused quivers in parts of her insides she hadn’t even known existed. They had been lying side by side after eating their fill when the slightest chill in the warm breeze had caused her to sit up and say, with some surprise, ‘I feel cold,’ as she had reached for her wrap.
Blaine hadn’t reacted for a moment, still lying with his eyes closed, apparently relaxed. She hadn’t seen him for a full week before this day and each twenty-four hour period had seemed like an eternity. He’d explained his absence and the fact that he hadn’t called in to see his parents by saying that work had been particularly busy, but Maisie had felt there was something else. Probably that he was bored with playing the attentive host to the little English girl staying with his parents.
This had seemed to be confirmed when he’d finally roused himself, rolling on to one elbow as he’d said coolly, ‘It’s the beginning of September tomorrow. The summer is nearly over.’
She had been hurt by his tone although she couldn’t have explained why at the time. Now, as she thought about it, she knew it was because he had been saying she would soon be going home and he didn’t give a damn—but without saying it.
She knew Jenny would be sad to see her go. She and Blaine’s mother had become good friends and Guiseppe treated her as one of the family. Jackie, in one of her recent phone calls, had said Blaine’s father had told Roberto he thought she was a girl in a million.
A girl in a million. Maisie’s mouth twisted and the tears she had been holding at bay all evening since Blaine had dropped her off home and refused to come in—for all the world as though he couldn’t wait to see the back of her—flooded her eyes. Not as far as Blaine was concerned, she wasn’t. And, much as she liked Jenny and Guiseppe—loved them, even—Blaine’s opinion was the only one which really mattered.
Still, she’d survive. She scrubbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and turned from the window. She had four days left in Sorrento and she wasn’t going to spend them weeping and wailing. Time enough for that once she was home!
Jenny and Guiseppe were out visiting friends for the evening and Liliana was staying with her sister for a few days, so for once the house was empty. Maisie hadn’t expected to be home so early; she’d thought Blaine would take her out to dinner but after their conversation on the beach he had seemed to want to cut the day short and she hadn’t protested. She’d rather die than beg for his company, she told herself proudly.
She didn’t feel like any dinner; she felt so disturbed and upset her stomach was churning. Ridiculous, she told herself, because nothing was any different to how it had been for weeks. And yet it seemed so somehow.
After a warm shower when she got the last of the sand out of her hair, she had an hour of pampering herself, soaking her hair in a rich conditioner before drying it, painting her toenails a bright ‘Flirty Minx’ red and applying a liberal amount of body lotion over every inch of skin.
It was quite dark outside now and the thought of dressing again wasn’t an option. She slipped into a full-length towelling robe Jenny had given her to use while she was at the house and padded downstairs, suddenly peckish. She fixed herself a chunky sandwich using one of Liliana’s recipes, which consisted of a round ciabatta filled to excess with ham, buffalo mozzarella, red pepper and salad leaves topped by beefsteak tomatoes, purposely dropping a piece of ham for Humphrey who had joined her in the kitchen. Whilst the other dogs were nervous of coming into the kitchen, having incurred Liliana’s wrath on more than one occasion, Humphrey always gauged when the housekeeper wasn’t around and made the most of it.
‘I shall miss you,’ Maisie told the little animal and when he looked dutifully soulful-eyed at the thought of their imminent parting Maisie dropped him another slice of ham as a reward. She was about to
take her first bite of what was undoubtedly a jumbo sandwich when she heard the click of the front door opening. Thinking that Jenny and Guiseppe had returned early and worried that Guiseppe might be feeling ill, she put the sandwich down and hurried out into the hall.
‘Oh.’ She came to an abrupt halt just outside the kitchen door and her heart began to beat a violent tattoo.
‘Hi.’ Blaine too had stopped. In the middle of the hall.
‘They’re not back yet,’ she said quickly.
‘What?’
‘Your parents. You have come to see them, haven’t you?’
He stared at her for a moment. ‘Not exactly.’
‘Oh,’ she said again. And when it didn’t seem as though he was going to proffer more, she added, ‘I was just making myself a sandwich. Do you want one?’ She was acutely aware she was as naked as the day she was born under the robe and, although she looked perfectly decent, she didn’t feel it.
‘A sandwich?’ he said somewhat vaguely. ‘Sì, that would be great.’
What was the matter with him? Maisie looked at him a moment more before turning and stepping into the kitchen. Once Blaine had seated himself at the kitchen table she pushed her sandwich towards him and began to make herself another one. ‘I hadn’t bitten it.’ When he made no effort to eat, she gestured at the sandwich. ‘It hasn’t got my germs on it,’ she said, forcing a smile. He was making her feel acutely nervous, sitting there like that just watching her.
‘I would not mind your germs,’ he said softly. ‘Maisie, we have to talk.’
She stared at him, a piece of tomato expelling its middle on to the floor with a little plop. Using it as an excuse to break the hold of his eyes, she busied herself clearing it up, but when she was finished he was still looking at her. She pulled the robe more closely round her, knotting the belt tighter and finished making the sandwich. He still hadn’t said any more.
‘Do you want a drink?’ she asked when the silence became deafening.
He made an impatient movement with his hand. ‘If you are having one.’
She had been going to have a glass of milk but now she felt she needed something stronger. Reaching into the fridge, she pulled out a half full bottle of white wine and divided it between two glasses, placing his in front of him and then seating herself on the other side of the table. Every nerve in her body was stretched tight. She took several gulps of her wine before she said, as though he had just spoken, ‘I thought we talked all day?’
‘No, we did not. We have not talked since that first night at my home and you know it.’
Colour flooded into Maisie’s cheeks; she could feel it. ‘That was the way you wanted it,’ she said with characteristic bluntness.
‘That was the way I thought I wanted it.’
‘And you’ve only just found out you didn’t?’ Was that what he was saying? Hope rose eternal in her bosom but she didn’t dare ask him what he meant exactly. Exactly had got her into a lot of trouble before.
‘Of course not.’ He ran his hand through his hair in the gesture she had come to know meant he was agitated. Good. She wanted him to be agitated. He wouldn’t be feeling half as bad as her but even a little would do.
Maisie stared at him. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘You and me both.’ Slowly Blaine exhaled. ‘You breezed into my life and turned it upside down, that is the truth of it and I do not like it. I do not like it one bit.’
Put that way she was glad she hadn’t asked the exactly thing. She felt a chill run through her.
‘I am attracted to you, Maisie. Hell, you know that,’ he said roughly.
Actually, she didn’t. ‘I don’t.’ She took another gulp of wine. ‘I mean I thought you were at your house that time, but ever since…Well, you’ve been nice, friendly and all that, but you haven’t seemed interested in me in that way.’
He looked slightly incredulous. ‘You mean you haven’t guessed?’
No. She must have left her crystal ball in England. ‘It was you who wanted to be just friends,’ she reminded him flatly, even though her heart was trying to exit her chest.
The hand went through the hair gain. ‘I did not want it, not really, but it was necessary. I could not give you what you wanted emotionally; besides which, we did not know each other, not then. You were newly arrived in Italy; I thought perhaps this attraction would burn itself out. I thought—Hell, I do not know what I thought.’
There was something wrong here. In all the times she had imagined Blaine coming to her and telling her he’d got it wrong—and she had imagined it, more times than she’d like to remember—he hadn’t had the look on his face he’d got now. In her dreams he had whispered words of undying love and togetherness and his face had been alight with desire. He hadn’t looked as though the world had just ended.
‘Blaine, why are you here?’ she asked bluntly.
There was a long pause. ‘I want you to stay in Italy,’ he said, his eyes glittering. ‘I do not want you to leave.’ He stood up, moving round the table and pulling her to her feet as he said, ‘I am going mad here. I think about you all the time; I have so many cold showers in a night it is crazy. I know we could be good together for as long as it lasts.’ He kissed her, in the way she had longed for since that first night. Deeply, thrillingly, their bodies pressed hard against each other.
It would have been wonderful, but—‘“For as long as it lasts”?’ Maisie repeated, pushing away from him.
‘I can help you find a flat here, an apartment somewhere. And I know Mr Rossellini was serious about that offer of work. I have checked with him and you can have a job tomorrow, sì? We could see each other all the time.’
Maisie took a physical step backwards. ‘You have asked Mr Rossellini if he would employ me?’ she said faintly. He had it all worked out. He hadn’t even consulted her, asked her, and he had it all worked out. A hot tide of rage flooded in over the crushing disappointment and hurt. Nothing had changed. He wasn’t talking about togetherness or roses round the door here. Just…availability. He hadn’t been able to get her out from under his skin so this was the only solution in his eyes. It wasn’t even a compromise.
‘Sì. There is no problem.’
He made the mistake of reaching for her again and Maisie slapped his hands away with enough force to stop him in his tracks, her voice trembling as she said, ‘Wrong, Blaine. There’s a problem all right, a huge problem. And it’s all yours.’
He stood looking at her, more handsome than any man had the right to be. Maisie stared back at him and she didn’t flinch when he said coldly, ‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning I’m not some little empty-headed doll who would be happy with the crumbs from your table; neither am I one of those career women you spoke about who can give their body to someone for a short time without thinking twice about it.’
‘I know this.’
He was getting angry but she didn’t care. She was angry, and she had a darn sight more reason to be than him. How dared he swan in here with the grand offer of setting her up somewhere until he got tired of her? And to actually sort out a job for her—he must have been pretty sure she would jump at the chance to stay in Italy to be near him. ‘No, you don’t know it,’ she said furiously, ‘or you wouldn’t be here now saying what you have.’ All he had put her through the last weeks, all the emotional—not to mention the physical—torment, and he thought he could come up with this offer and have her falling at his feet in gratitude? What did he think she was?
‘You have misunderstood me.’
‘No, you laid it out very clearly and I understood every word,’ she shot back tensely. ‘You know I like you, that much is clear, and you thought I would agree to being a temporary fixture in your life, a ship that passes ever so slowly in the night. Wrong. I don’t do one-night or even a hundred-night stands. Laugh if you want, but when I give myself to a man it will be because I know it is going to be for ever, the whole caboodle. Ring, togetherness, children, the lot.’
&n
bsp; She saw his eyes narrow as he registered the words. There was a sharp eternal pause and Maisie could hear her heartbeat drumming in her ears.
‘You were engaged to be married,’ he said slowly. ‘This Jeff…You must have slept with him.’
‘There is no must about it.’ She didn’t care that he would think she was the most pathetic creature on earth, that she was so far removed from the type of woman he had been associating with as to come from another planet. And she sure as blazes wasn’t going to apologise for her virginity either—it had been her decision to stay that way and it wasn’t as if she hadn’t had offers.
‘But that night.’ He was speaking like someone who was wading through treacle. ‘You would have slept with me that night.’
‘Then you must be my Achilles heel,’ she said tightly. She didn’t trust herself to say anything more; the intensity of Blaine’s gaze was making it difficult to think.
He stood staring at her for what seemed like an eternity. ‘You want me,’ he said expressionlessly. ‘You know you do. You have just said it. What would be so wrong in us being together and enjoying each other for a time? You like my parents and they like you, you find Italy a good place to be.’
He just didn’t get it. Maisie tried to keep her voice steady when she said, ‘You would be breaking all your rules, wouldn’t you? The ones about not taking your woman of the moment home to Mother or, more to the point, Liliana?’
‘I would break rules for you, Maisie.’
But only to a point. Only to a point. She had to say it. It was the only way to make him see. The only way to finally end this affair which had never been an affair. ‘I don’t want you, Blaine.’ She saw him blink. ‘I love you and that is quite a different thing. If I agreed to what you have proposed it would kill me. Can you understand that? Think of me as the original clingy woman if you want, if that makes it easier to see where I am coming from; I don’t care. The truth is I love you and I would want it all. Togetherness. For ever. Nothing less. Children. Little Blaines and Maisies. Knowing I can trust you never to look at another woman and you knowing you can trust me. Living together, loving together, growing old together.’
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