by Kat Walters
She looked so beautiful, her auburn hair about her shoulders, her large green eyes bright with emotion. Her bottom lip trembled as he leaned closer to brush his lips against her cheek. Lingering only long enough to inhale her scent, that same softly intoxicating scent of apricots. Reassured more than he could say to know that she still smelt the same.
The hitch in her breath brought memories flooding back, memories that heated his blood. Alessandro kissed her other cheek while she stood frozen in front of him.
"Breathe, Izzy," he whispered in her ear, and just like that, the fire snapped back into her eyes, and she glared at him.
"I am breathing, Alessandro. It is a long time now since you left me breathless!"
He couldn't help himself or the wicked smile that crossed his face. "We'll have to see if we can do something about that."
Isabella continued to glare at him, but he saw the corner of her mouth twitching as if she wanted to smile, and then she gave in with a husky chuckle. So damn sexy he felt his own breath catching. Isabella glanced past him towards the bar, and he stiffened.
"Isabella," the denial was on his lips, but she chuckled again and placed her hand lightly on his arm.
"I know." He must have looked surprised because she smiled softly. "Even from across the room, I can still read you," she said quietly. She withdrew her hand from his arm, but he caught it quickly and tugged her closer. Isabella was here, and there was no way he was letting her go. Alessandro looked towards the dance floor and then back at her.
"I realize you've been dancing all evening but… dance with me?"
Alessandro steered Isabella onto the dance floor before smoothly pulling her into his arms. For a moment, she held her breath and her eyes slid closed. His scent surrounded her, that fresh smell that was all him. It was too much to believe. How many nights had she lain awake fantasizing about this?
Seeing Alessandro across the restaurant had terrified her. No, it wasn't seeing him that had frightened her. It was the longing that surged through her. Loving a man she could never have. A man who was still as devastatingly handsome as ever. His black hair a little longer than she remembered, his nose as straight, his mouth as deliciously sensuous, and his eyes…
Eyes that could hold her captive if she made the mistake of looking into them for too long. Isabella felt the warmth of his hand on her lower back; she sighed and felt herself softening against him. He answered by tightening his arm around her pressing her closer, allowing only a breath of air between their bodies. She risked looking up and was struck again by how handsome he looked in a casual shirt and jeans.
Isabella smiled to herself then. Only someone as supremely confident as Alessandro could wear jeans to a place like Luca's. He was the most casually dressed man in the restaurant... and the sexiest. It was no wonder he'd been getting all that attention earlier. She had stood watching him, mesmerized by the sight of him after two years without him. She wanted to be angry; she wished she could hate him. It would all be so much easier if she could hate Alessandro. But she didn't.
Isabella couldn't even summon up anger towards him for walking away without saying goodbye. Now that she understood about his father's death, it all made sense to her. The way he believed so strongly that his father had loved his mother too much. Not so much. Too much.
That had told Isabella everything she needed to know. Alessandro saw loving someone as a weakness, and he was a man who prided himself on his self-control. He would never allow himself any weakness, especially a weakness like love.
"How long have you been in Rome?" His voice in her ear startled her. She looked up, her eyes clashing with his. Such an innocent question, but the intense look in his eyes had her swallowing hard, her heart beating erratically.
"Two weeks. Tomorrow is our last performance. I fly back to London the day after."
His eyes were thoughtful now as they watched her. "And to think, all this time I was looking for you in London, and I find you in Rome."
"You were looking for me?" Isabella hated how breathless she sounded, how hopeful.
"I went to Henry's house – to return your clothes," he said sternly.
"Ah," the clothes. The clothes Alessandro had forwarded onto her in London after he returned to Rome. The same clothes she had refused to accept and sent back to him. Alessandro. Never one to lose an argument, she thought cynically.
"The new owners didn't have a forwarding address for you, but they did put me in touch with the agent who sold them the house. This same agent then put me in touch with your lawyer. Your lawyer," he paused long enough to scowl at her. "refused to give me your contact details or pass on a message, I might add."
"All of that for a few clothes, Alessandro? It hardly seems worth it."
"For a suitcase of clothes? No, I agree."
His arm tensed around her, and she looked up with a frown. This was not the Alessandro she remembered. This was not the coolly sophisticated man she knew. He was different, although what was different about him, she couldn't quite say.
Alessandro was still watching her, an intense look in his eyes.
"You changed your phone number," he said at last. A pained expression crossed his face, which he quickly masked, but Isabella had seen it, and it broke her heart. Worse than her own pain was the thought that Alessandro was hurting.
"It was nothing personal, Alessandro. I was making a new start." I didn't want to be waiting for you to call.
Isabella could feel his frustration in the way his body tensed. She wished she could make it easier for them both. She longed to rest her head on his shoulder and give in to her feelings. She couldn't.
"How is Anna?"
She did smile at that, though. It was easy to smile when she thought of her sister.
"She's starting college soon." At the curious look on Alessandro's face, she continued. "Psychology. She wants to work with teenagers."
His tension was no longer evident as she talked about Anna, and when he dropped a kiss on the top of her head and squeezed her tight, it felt like the most natural thing in the world for him to do.
"I'm so happy to hear that." He said, releasing her slightly, smiling at her with such warmth that she ached to press her mouth to his. To kiss him and go on kissing him for the rest of her life.
"I have a lot to thank you for. That time at Childsworth… it saved her life, Alessandro." Isabella shook her head, hating to be maudlin but needing to say this to him. She wanted him to know how much it meant to her. In the end, it was the reason she had come.
Isabella looked down, not wanting him to see how vulnerable she felt. Tears were building behind her closed lids, but she swallowed them back. Sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself to open her eyes, a few minutes in his arms, and she was falling apart. The silence between them felt heavy with all the things they weren't saying to each other. It stretched on broken at last by his impatient sigh.
"Isabella, I want to apologize."
Startled, her eyes flew up to his, immediately regretting the impulse as she saw the pain there.
"No need to look so shocked," he murmured with a rueful smile. "I am capable of apologizing when I've done wrong."
"What is it you're apologizing for exactly?"
"Because there's so much to choose from?" The self-derision in his voice hurt her.
"Don't," she whispered.
"I want to say sorry for London. For the way I left. It was cowardly."
Isabella actually stopped breathing in that instant, and if she could have believed it, she would have said her heart stopped beating too. "No, Alessandro. No." She was fierce now. "Everything you have lived through with your mother, your father. Don't you dare call yourself a coward."
Alessandro pulled her closer, pressed his forehead to hers. "But with you, I was a coward. You got through my defenses, Izzy. It terrified me. I told you things I've never told anyone else." Alessandro pulled back so he could see her face. "So I ran away. I returned to work, but it made no difference. N
o amount of work helped. I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."
Isabella felt his eyes searching hers, but all she could feel was heat, uncomfortable suffocating heat. She couldn't even make sense of what he was trying to tell her. He'd missed her? What did that mean? What did he want from her?
"Can we get out of here? Go for a walk?" Her question was a threadbare whisper. She pulled out of his arms, unable to look at him now. Her chest felt so tight she could barely get enough air into her lungs. He regretted the way things ended between them. But what did that mean? He shouldn't have left without saying goodbye, or he should never have left? Isabella felt so agitated she couldn't even wait for a response from him. She had to get out of this restaurant.
Alessandro watched Isabella's desperate exit in stunned disbelief. He had thought… what? What had he thought would happen? She would rush into his waiting arms? Forget the past. Yes. Isabella loved him. It was there in her eyes. She still loved him. Why was she running away?
Not giving her a chance to get away, he followed quickly. Realizing that she was waiting for him outside, he felt the tension in his shoulders ease just a fraction. She hadn't decided, not yet. If he could just get her to see…
"Isabella?" Alessandro longed to touch her, but he didn't. She stood with her back to him. The orange dress she wore caressed her curves, the little straps over her shoulders allowing his eyes to travel freely over her golden skin. His breath hissed from his body as it reacted predictably to the sight of her body beneath that silk dress.
Her obvious distress had him clenching his fists anxiously. His stomach tied itself up in knots, and when she still didn't turn around, his mind went into free fall. He'd just bared his soul, and she'd turned and walked away from him as though… what he was saying was the last thing she wanted to hear.
"Let's walk," Isabella announced and strode off without a backward glance, her dress clinging to her thighs, the breeze molding it to her body in all the right places. Not the distraction Alessandro needed right now. He gritted his teeth and set off after her, reaching her as she rounded the corner.
Beneath the yellow glow of the street light, he pulled her to a stop. His hand clamped around her upper arm as he forced her to face him. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling in agitation. She still wouldn't look at him. Music spilled out onto the street from the open doorway to a nightclub. People jostled past them, moving from one bar to another, talking loudly but ignoring the two of them. When the crowd had moved on, Alessandro took a step closer.
"Isabella," he murmured her name as he wrapped his arm around her waist, clamping her to his chest. It was a mistake though, he couldn't think clearly with her body pressed up against his. He groaned and buried his fingers in her silky hair, pulling her face closer.
He thought she would push him away. Her hands were flat on his chest as though she were trying to defend herself, but just as he would have released her, she grabbed his shirt in her two fists and pulled him closer, turning her mouth up to his, her lips parting, inviting him. Alessandro didn't hesitate. He needed to kiss her, to taste her. Her kiss was as needy as his own, and he rejoiced in that need, angling his head so he could deepen the kiss.
"You feel so good," he murmured against her lips. "So right. You in my arms is the only thing that makes sense anymore." It was the wrong thing to say. Isabella yanked herself free of his arms, staring at him with a bewildered expression he didn't understand. He reached out for her, but she took a quick step back.
"Isabella? What is it? Are you seeing someone else?" His thoughts went immediately to the blonde dancer in her group. What if he was wrong? What if Isabella was sleeping with him?
His whole body tensed at the thought of Isabella with any other man. She only watched him warily, not answering him but gnawing on her lip, confusion clouding her eyes. His heart ached for her, for the uncertainty he saw there. Slowly he stepped closer, reached for her again. This time she didn't pull away. He traced his thumb lightly down her cheek and cupped her delicate jaw in his large hand. Gently this time, he lowered his mouth to hers, brushed his lips across hers, looked deeply into her eyes.
"Tell me this doesn't feel right. Tell me you don't want this."
She laughed, but it was a bitter sound, harsh to his ears. He pulled back sharply, looking down at her. She was shaking her head, a look of exasperation on her face.
"Of course I want this, Alessandro. This is what we do. You said it yourself when we met. We have sexual chemistry. It's always going to feel right. That doesn't make it right." Isabella pressed her mouth to his before he could answer. Her words were still on his mind, her lips a distraction. Even as he deepened the kiss, pulling her against him, he was frowning, angry until he pushed her back roughly and glared at her.
"Sexual chemistry? You think this is about sexual chemistry?" He grabbed her forcefully, pulled her back into his arms, claiming her mouth with his, bruising her lips with the intensity of his kiss. "Tell me this is just about sex for you. Tell me you don't feel anything more." He demanded, his mouth still pressed to hers. He kissed from her jaw to her ear, one hand still firmly holding her head up to his. "Tell me," he demanded roughly in her ear, his lips still kissing her, caressing her.
Isabella pulled back sharply with tears in her eyes. "I can't," she said brokenly before pulling away completely. "I can't tell you that, Alessandro. Don't you see? I can't do this because it is more than sex for me." With a shuddering breath, she swung around and started to walk away.
"Isabella." His desperation stopped her. "That's exactly my point," he said in exasperation. He watched her hesitate at his words, and then she turned slowly. She looked unsure and determined all in one. His heart ached. How to make her see?
Alessandro followed her. Allowing some space between them, he placed his two hands on her shoulders. He felt her stiffen beneath his touch and grimaced. How could he make her understand? Slowly. Whatever he did, he would have to do it slowly. Isabella would never trust him otherwise. He allowed his thumbs to brush against her soft golden shoulders, couldn't stop himself from pressing a light kiss to her temple.
"I've never wanted a woman as much as I want you." When she shifted beneath his hands, tried to pull away, he continued firmly. "But we have more than that. This is more than sex for me too. If you'll just let me prove it to you." Her uncertainty was as bright as ever in her eyes, and his heart clenched in fear. Isabella had to give him this chance.
"Don't decide now," fear made his voice stern. He released her, pulling his cell from the back pocket of his jeans. "My driver will take you back to your hotel." He made the call before she could argue with him, and when he turned back to her, Isabella was still standing in the same place, the same look of uncertainty on her face. Alessandro swallowed nervously, he wanted to sound reasonable, relaxed. "Tomorrow is your last night in Rome?" Not if he had anything to do with it. "I'll send my car for you after the show. We can talk. We need to talk, Isabella."
Out of the corner of his eye, Alessandro saw his car pulling up to the curb. He took her elbow and walked her towards it, very aware that she hadn't answered him. At the open door, he turned her towards him, looked down into her lovely face, wished he knew what to say to her. "I don't want to lose you, Isabella. Please come tomorrow." He didn't kiss her again, and he didn't give her a chance to refuse. He helped her into the car and closed the door before he lost all self-control, and pulled her into his arms again.
Isabella ran fingers through her hair, a nervous gesture that she allowed since there was no one to see her. She had dressed with care for her night with Alessandro. Why was she doing this? Isabella couldn't answer that question now, just as she couldn't answer it earlier in the day when she made her decision. She was going because she couldn't not go. Because Alessandro had asked. Because of the tension radiating from him when he'd asked her, as though her answer was everything to him.
Fool. The voice in her head mocked her with its disdain.
No,
she wouldn't be a fool. Not this time. Tomorrow she would be back in London. Isabella squeezed her eyes shut as that familiar pain tightened around her chest again. It was the right thing to do. No matter what Alessandro said… she had to go. She had to leave before she lost herself completely.
If last night proved anything, it was how vulnerable she still was. To him, to his touch. That achingly familiar heat that burnt between them. Still. Her eyes slid closed once more at the memory, her body already needy, aching. Alessandro's mouth on hers, ruthless, claiming. Isabella groaned softly, forced her eyes open.
The car glided smoothly along the busy streets of Rome, the partition between her and Alessandro's driver cocooning her in darkness and warmth. It should feel safe, she should feel protected, but why was her heart racing and her breaths coming in short gasps?
Alessandro. He had never been predictable. He had never been safe. Isabella dropped her face into her hands, despair swamping her. What did he want with her? Another affair? An arrangement? One week. Month. Year. Whatever it was, it would never be enough for her. She loved him, and what would happen to her once he was finished with her? And he would leave her. This heat between them would fade, he would move on, and…
She would be broken. Destroyed.
Pain robbed her of her breath, and she gasped, trying to suck air into her lungs. A part of her, the silly hopeful part of her, wanted to give in to him, to agree to whatever proposition he was going to suggest. To accept whatever scraps of attention he was willing to pass her way.
No.
Anger flared inside her. She couldn't do that to herself, always hoping for more from him. Waiting. Hoping. Fooling herself that maybe one day he would love her too.
No.
She had her dancing to think of. She'd worked too hard this last year, wanted it for too long. She couldn't allow Alessandro to distract her. She couldn't give in to these feelings.
She would give him tonight. One night. She would give herself this one night. One more night with Alessandro, one more night to love him. Somewhere deep inside her, she felt a bit of her heart breaking, already. Quietly. Painfully.