She took a deep breath, knowing she was finishing it for good. ‘Absolute roses round the door finale, in fact.’ She tried to smile but her mouth was trembling too much. ‘Nothing less would do for me where you’re concerned.’
‘That is impossible.’ He was as white as a sheet. ‘I have told you how I feel. That would be impossible for me.’
‘Then all we can do is to remain friends.’
‘We could never be just friends.’ It was so sharp that Humphrey, who had disappeared under the table with Blaine’s arrival, growled a warning. He wasn’t going to have anyone hurt his favourite human. ‘Maybe not,’ Maisie said steadily, ‘but that’s how it is.’
‘I have offered you more than I have offered any other woman since Francesca died.’ There was a furious glint in his eyes.
‘You offered the others nothing,’ she said shakily, ‘and what you offer me isn’t enough.’
‘I can’t do what you want, don’t you understand?’ he groaned, his voice softer now. ‘I’m offering you all I’m capable of right now, Maisie. I don’t know about the future, who does?’
‘I don’t buy that.’ She smiled sadly. ‘I know I could love you for ever, you see, so that makes a difference.’
‘And yet you are prepared to walk out of my life? To leave Italy for ever, to leave me for ever?’
Oh, he was good, she had to give him that. He knew just how to twist the knife so it really hurt. ‘Yes.’
‘What sort of love is that?’ he said flatly.
She shrugged. ‘My sort, I suppose. Because I know if I stayed it would be wrong. I would start becoming the type of female I’ve always despised, the kind who goes through their man’s pockets to see if there’s something there that indicates they’re involved with someone else. The sort who if they find something don’t say anything because they don’t want to rock the boat, because they’re prepared to take even a little rather than lose the whole thing. That’s where compromise leads. And eventually I would be a different person and you wouldn’t want me anyway. I love you, Blaine, more than you will ever be loved by anyone else, but I won’t let you destroy me.’
‘I would never do that,’ he said, clearly appalled, reaching out and tugging her into him. He crushed her mouth beneath his and for a moment the temptation to give in, to say she would be his, was so strong she could taste it. She loved him and she would make him love her. Being near him, seeing him, loving him, she would become such a part of his life he wouldn’t want to let her go.
And then reality kicked in. Love was either there or it wasn’t; if nothing else, she had learnt that over the last months. He had accused her of turning his life upside down—he’d had hers spinning almost from the first time she had met him. He was the last person she would have chosen to love—a handsome, wealthy Adonis who would attract any woman within a radius of fifty miles. An Adonis with massive hang-ups into the bargain, who readily admitted he wanted women who were content to give him what he wanted and then depart with a smile and a kiss.
If she could have chosen a man to love it would have been a down-to-earth, ordinary, well-adjusted individual, the type of guy who would have been over the moon to put a ring on her finger and more than content to have a quiverful of children and a home filled with cats and dogs. A man like Jeff—without the Camellia bit. The sort of man who would be lost in a crowd. But she would have loved him and he her, and that would have been all that mattered.
But love wasn’t like that. It didn’t fit into a neat little parcel. She loved Blaine Morosini and that was the end of it. But he didn’t love her. He wanted her, but he didn’t love her. His need was a thing of the flesh, nothing more.
Maisie drew on every bit of strength in her mind and body and pushed Blaine away. ‘I think you had better leave,’ she said quietly.
‘You do not mean that.’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘No, think clearly. What we have, it is extraordinary. You feel this as well as I do. I have slept with women but never have I felt this…’ He shook his head. ‘You need me as much as I need you, admit it.’
‘You need me. I love you. All the difference in the world. Goodbye, Blaine.’
For a moment she thought he was going to argue some more. Then he just turned and walked out of the house. Just like that. Without even a goodbye.
She heard the front door bang with enough force to crack the plaster but apart from murmuring, ‘Not so cool tonight, then,’ she remained immobile. He’d gone. She couldn’t quite believe it. Only now did she admit she had been hoping this would turn out like some Hollywood film. But not one where the two of them end up alone. Not that. She burst into tears.
She cried until there were no more tears left and then finished both glasses of wine, throwing the sandwiches into the bin. She now had the sort of headache that—mercifully—prevented any coherent thought and, after taking a couple of painkillers from the box of medicines Liliana kept in a high cupboard in the kitchen, she wearily made her way back to her room before Jenny and Guiseppe arrived home. The perfect end to a perfect day would have been trying to explain her ten-rounds-with-Mike-Tyson face to Blaine’s parents.
When Humphrey jumped on her bed a minute or so later—something which was totally against every rule in the house because no animals were allowed upstairs—she made no attempt to push the little dog away. He crept up against her, licking the salt tears and snuffling as he pushed his head against hers. He must have followed her up the stairs and nipped in the room before she closed the door, Maisie thought, reaching out an arm and drawing the little animal to her. She suddenly realised it wasn’t only Blaine who was going to break her heart when she left Italy. She loved this little dog and she knew he loved her.
She didn’t expect to fall asleep, not with her life in ruins and little men with nasty great hammers beating away at a gong in her head, but gradually, with the warmth of Humphrey’s furry body and the knowledge she wasn’t totally alone, she felt herself beginning to drift away. She went into the blanketing darkness thankfully. If she could just sleep for ever, that would be fine by her. That was the way she felt. And she wasn’t going to apologise for it either.
Chapter 11
The old adage about tomorrow being another day could be taken two ways, Maisie decided, when she surfaced the next morning. She supposed its original meaning—things getting better and all that—might be true for some people in some situations. For her, right now, all it meant was that this was the first day of the disaster that was the rest of her life.
She said as much to Humphrey, who at some time during the night had worked himself into a snug bundle lying in the crook of her bent legs and was now surveying her with bright brown eyes. He didn’t answer, but then she hadn’t expected him to.
‘And now I’ve got to smuggle you downstairs somehow,’ she told him. ‘or we’ll both be in for it.’ He wagged his tail, tongue lolling, for all the world as though he was laughing at her. She sighed. ‘If it wasn’t for putting you through the horror of quarantine, I’d take you back with me. Do you know that?’
She sat up as she spoke and he immediately rolled over for his tummy to be stroked. Maisie smiled. ‘Fusspot,’ she said huskily.
They both made it downstairs without anyone being any the wiser, and once Maisie had fed the dogs and cats she set about taking a tray of coffee, orange juice and croissants up to Jenny and Guiseppe. She had done this every morning since Liliana had been away—it was the housekeeper’s normal routine—and although Jenny had protested the first day she had given in with good grace when Maisie had said she wanted to do it.
‘You’ve been so generous to me,’ Maisie had said to Blaine’s mother. ‘Let me at least do little things like this for you.’ Although Maisie had objected, Jenny had insisted on paying her handsomely for every week she had been in Italy.
When she knocked on the door of the master bedroom suite Jenny came to the door to take the tray like she usually did, beaming at her as she said, ‘Oh,
Maisie, I’m going to miss you, and I don’t just mean because you do things like this. Why don’t you stay for a bit longer, but for a real holiday this time?’
She had mentioned this before but Maisie had demurred. Now she said, ‘I’ve had a real holiday, Jenny; that’s why I feel guilty for taking any money from you. It’s been wonderful, just wonderful, but I must get home and see about getting a job and somewhere to live. I don’t want to do that in the middle of an English winter.’
‘Blaine will miss you,’ Jenny put in slyly.
Maisie looked at her. She had thought Blaine’s parents accepted that she and Blaine were just friends. Now she wondered. Colouring slightly, she said, ‘He’ll probably be relieved he’s off the hook about showing me around all the time.’
‘Don’t you believe it.’ Maisie watched the expression on Jenny’s face change. ‘Maisie, I know my son is a hard man to understand but he hasn’t always been like he is now. Once he was so open, so—’
‘He’s told me about Francesca,’ Maisie said hurriedly when she saw Jenny was struggling for words.
‘He has?’ Jenny’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘But he never talks about her, not even to his father and me.’
Realising that Jenny might draw quite the wrong conclusions from Blaine confiding in her, Maisie said awkwardly, ‘I think it was because he wanted me to know we could only ever be friends, Jenny.’
Jenny took a moment to digest this. Then she said, ‘If I had known he’d talked with you I would have spoken of it all, Maisie, but he made it very clear at the time to Guiseppe and me it was a private thing he didn’t want discussed. Out of respect for his feelings, we haven’t spoken of it with anyone.’
‘No, I understand perfectly.’ She and Jenny had talked about a lot of things over the time she had been in Italy; she had shared how her father had left and that she and her mother had never got on, besides explaining about Jeff, and now Maisie realised Blaine’s mother was probably feeling awkward herself. ‘I truly wouldn’t have expected you to discuss Blaine’s personal life, Jenny. If he wanted to do that, that’s one thing, but someone else—even you, his mother—that’s different.’
Jenny smiled, her voice soft as she said, ‘You’re such a lovely girl, Maisie. So understanding.’
She didn’t feel like a lovely girl and as far as Blaine was concerned she didn’t understand a thing. Maisie forced herself to smile back. ‘Thank you.’
‘It was so tragic at the time,’ Jenny said quietly, ‘especially as Francesca had been battling against the mental illness for years.’
Maisie remembered that Blaine’s parents weren’t aware of the true facts or how things had really been between Blaine and his wife, and now she felt even more uncomfortable.
‘Blaine changed dramatically but then no one thought that was surprising. Francesca was so young, so beautiful, with all her life ahead of her; it was bound to hit him hard.’
Maisie nodded.
‘And now…’ Jenny shook her head. ‘He has closed in on himself, become totally self-reliant. I thought this would be a phase which would pass but it has been a long time now. Of course there are women.’
She saw Maisie’s look of surprise and smiled sadly. ‘I am not Liliana,’ she said softly. ‘I love my son, I would lay down my life for him, but I do not have rose-coloured spectacles where he’s concerned. He is a man and he is very human, like his father. There would have to be women. Work would not be the be all and end all for Blaine, he’s not made like that. If he found the right one then he would not look at another woman, I know this too. Guiseppe loved his first wife and he was completely faithful to Luisa while she lived. When he met me, it was the same. I have never had cause to doubt him.’
Guiseppe’s voice calling from the bedroom broke into the conversation, and Maisie had never been more thankful for something in her life. She appreciated Jenny speaking so openly to her but the conversation was definitely on the painful lines.
‘I’m sure Blaine will meet the right woman at some point,’ she said, because Jenny needed to hear it. She just hoped by then she would have picked up the pieces of her life. Either that or Jackie didn’t tell her about it when it happened. ‘You go and eat now. I’ll see you later.’
Once in the kitchen she busied herself with various household chores that Liliana usually did, glad of something to do. She was going to keep busy for the next two or three days before she left, she told herself firmly. Fill every moment. No moping. The original plan had been that Blaine would pick her up and take her to the airport; now she rather thought she would pay for a taxi. She could explain things to Jenny by saying her flight was in the morning and she didn’t want to take Blaine away from his work. It was a weak excuse as excuses went but it would have to do. She would book her flight today, get herself organised, arrange for the taxi, everything. It was time to go. High time.
She followed through on the plan during the day, leaving a message on Blaine’s mobile phone explaining that because her flight was a late morning one she didn’t want to disrupt his day and had therefore organised a taxi to take her to the airport. She thanked him for the lovely days out and meals they’d enjoyed and finished the message by saying politely she was sure they would see each other some time in the future when he visited his brother’s family. At the same time she made a mental note to be sure to ask Jackie if there was any possibility of Blaine being there if she went to her friend’s home again. A meeting wasn’t an option as far as she was concerned.
She filled the day to the brim with activity, falling into bed that night too tired to think. Blaine hadn’t phoned back, but then she hadn’t expected him to. She hoped he would at least have the sensitivity to leave things as they were and avoid any more traumatic arguments.
The next two days passed with equal uneventfulness, and on the evening before the morning she was due to leave Maisie telephoned her mother. She had spoken to her twice since she had been in Italy and both times she had finished the call wondering why she’d bothered to phone in the first place. This time was no different.
‘Hallo, Mum, it’s me,’ Maisie said with determined cheerfulness when she heard her mother’s voice on the end of the line. ‘I’m just ringing to let you know I’m coming back tomorrow and that I shall be staying at Sue’s flat for a while. OK?’
‘While you look for a job? Well, let’s hope you find one fairly quickly, but I doubt it. I doubt it very much.’
Great, thanks a bunch. ‘I’m not worried,’ Maisie said brightly. ‘I’m sure I’ll find something.’
‘Huh. I’ve heard plenty say that and then come a cropper.’
Not that you’re wishing it on me or anything to prove a point, of course. ‘Anyway, I just thought I’d let you know I’ll be back in England. I’ll ring you when I can pop and see you for a day or so.’
‘I won’t hold my breath for that.’
The same old sayings, the same old moaning. And it wasn’t as if her mother even really cared. ‘Goodbye, Mum.’
‘Aren’t you going to ask me how I am?’
‘How are you?’
‘All right, no thanks to you, though. Gadding about all over the place at your age and without a job or home to come back to. I can’t believe you’re my daughter, Maisie, I tell you straight.’
‘Perhaps there was a mix-up at the hospital when I was born.’
‘See? You don’t take anything seriously. Just like your father. He needed a rocket up his posterior to even get up in the morning, just like you.’
She didn’t actually need to take this. Maisie stared at the telephone, picturing her mother’s tight-lipped face and iron eyes. ‘My father was a very clever man and a hard worker,’ she said steadily, ‘and you know it. If I’m like him in any way at all then I thank my lucky stars for it. If you want to see anything of me in the future, please remember I loved him and I won’t stand to hear him maligned by you or any of the crew you associate with. I’ll let you think about that—whether you want to see me
again—and I’ll ring some time when I am back. Goodbye.’
She put down the phone with a shaking hand and promptly burst into tears, but once she’d had a little cry and dried her eyes she felt better. That had been waiting to be said for years and she didn’t doubt for a minute it would cause a rift between not only her mother and herself but the rest of the relations in the north. She was really on her own now. No job, no home, no family.
She took a deep breath and then expelled the air slowly. New start then. In every sense of the word. Probably not a bad thing. And, thinking about it, she perhaps wouldn’t stay with Sue after all or hang around London. She fancied moving somewhere slower and more beautiful. Yorkshire, perhaps, or the Lake District. And if she couldn’t get a veterinary nurse position, then she would do anything—working on the till at a supermarket or something—until she could. She had enough money behind her now to rent a small place for several months; she could do it. She nodded to the thought.
She would build a new life for herself. It wouldn’t be the life she ideally wanted because it wouldn’t have Blaine in it, and having met him she doubted she would ever be even slightly interested in anyone else, but given time she would adjust. She would have to because she wasn’t about to lie down and die. There were worse things than going through life single—she couldn’t actually think of any right at this moment, but there were.
When Maisie awoke the following morning it was raining. In fact it wasn’t just raining, it was absolutely bucketing down, she thought, as she gazed out of the window into a sodden landscape. Entirely appropriate for her mood, but a surprise because there had only been the odd light shower through the summer.
The Italian Tycoon's Bride Page 14