by Kim Lawrence
The Danilo standing there, his body clenched, every sinew taut, the golden skin blanched of colour as it stretched tight across his razor-sharp cheekbones that were scored with dull dark colour—now, this was angry. This was furious!
And all that fury was aimed at her, Tess realised, struggling to think past the shocked bemusement in her befuddled brain.
His taut body was literally quivering with outrage. Standing there, he managed to look simultaneously magnificent and scary, but most of all furious!
She pressed her lips together, tasting the strawberry gloss she had coated them with several times while she’d waited, trying to work out what was happening and more importantly why.
In contrast to his actions and rigid stance, Danilo’s voice was lethally soft when he finally spoke. ‘So, what are we celebrating?’
She watched as, without another word, he walked across to the ice bucket, pulled out the bottle and, with a sharp twist, popped the cork. The champagne exploded in a fountain, leaving barely enough to cover the bottom of the two glasses. He picked up one and raised it.
‘A toast. To lies and liars everywhere, and especially to those we know and love.’
Tess ignored the glass. Her head was spinning in confusion. The anxiety in her stomach was making her feel sick. ‘What has happened?’
‘Oh, you know—same old, same old. Oh, and I have just walked in on my sister with her boyfriend, my sister who has cancelled her appointment with the consultant.’
‘Oh, no!’ Tess closed her eyes and when she opened them again sympathy glowed in them. ‘I’m so sorry, Danilo.’
His jaw clenched as he fought to regain some level of control. He had been a fool but he would not fall for her soft sympathy again. ‘And this comes as such a shock to you?’ he drawled. ‘Any of it?’
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘I knew that she’d been seeing Marco. She cares for him, Danilo, and I really think that he cares for her. Where is the harm? She’s a grown woman, Danilo. She has to make her own mistakes.’
‘Easy enough for someone who isn’t going to be around to pick up the pieces after those mistakes to say,’ he sneered, refusing to acknowledge the hurt in her eyes. ‘You wreak damage like some blasted tsunami.’
Her chin came up. ‘It’s not my fault and I’m sick and tired of you blaming me when anything goes wrong!’
Her protest was drowned out by the sound of the glass he was holding splintering in his hand.
‘Danilo! You’re bleeding! Let me...’
He looked at the blood dripping from his hand without interest and snapped, ‘Leave it!’
She gave a shrug. ‘Fine. Bleed to death!’ she tossed back childishly. ‘What exactly is wrong with your sister having a boyfriend? And don’t try and tell me this is about Marco. You’d be the same about any man she dated. Has it even crossed your mind that Marco’s feelings are genuine?’
‘She is in a wheelchair.’
Her patience snapped—talk about tunnel vision! ‘Well, maybe Marco can see beyond the wheelchair. Unlike you!’ She watched him pale with anger at the accusation and her own anger drained away. ‘You’re not protecting her, Danilo,’ she said softly. ‘You’re—’ She stopped, shaking her head.
‘I’m what?’
‘You’re smothering her.’ There was no accusation in the words, just deep sadness.
‘I will get her out of the wheelchair—’ And yet he hadn’t. All his life he had achieved whatever he set out to and now the only thing he wanted to do was eluding him.
‘And what if you can’t?’ she countered quietly. ‘What if—?’
‘How long have you been filling Natalia’s head with this sort of defeatist attitude?’
‘Nat is the least defeatist person I have ever met. She is brave and strong and upbeat. I haven’t brainwashed Nat. I couldn’t. She is as stubborn and pig-headed as you are.’
‘How long have you known?’
‘Does it matter?’ she asked wearily.
‘Did you think it was amusing to plot behind my back?’
Her eyes blinked wide at the accusation. ‘There was no plotting, there was no—’
‘And you knew my feelings on the subject.’
The sweep of his cold eyes made her shiver.
‘I found out by accident and what was I meant to do? She—’ Aware that her explanation could seem as if she wasn’t taking responsibility for her actions, she bit her lip and, shaking her head, lowered her chin to her chest.
‘You were meant,’ he ground out, ‘to tell me. It’s my job to protect her. She is vulnerable, an easy target. It’s my fault she is in that chair, the least I can do is—’
As he broke off, swearing, Tess’s chin came up. ‘How is it your fault? It was a car accident. Weren’t you in another country at the time?’
‘I was in bed at the time.’
‘Not yours?’ she said, knowing the answer even before she read his expression.
He half turned, presenting his classical profile to her. Even at this distance she could see the tense quiver of fine muscles beneath his golden-toned skin. ‘I was meant to join my family for a birthday celebration, but I had a better offer.’
The hollow sound of his laugh made her wince.
‘If I had been there that night I would have been at the wheel and who knows? My reflexes are forty years younger than my father’s were, but we never will know.’ He dragged a hand across his dark hair and turned back to her. ‘Because I put sex with a woman whose name I can’t remember ahead of a promise. I will not do that again.’ And yet he almost had; his innate selfishness had reasserted itself again. ‘I made a promise to Natalia that she would walk again and nothing or...no one will get in the way of that.’ Certainly not an affair with a woman he could not trust. Well, at least, he thought heavily, he had found out in time before he made a total fool of himself.
Well, at least she knew now and nothing she could have done or not done would have altered the situation. Tess unfolded her legs from under her and slid off the bed where she had sat frozen since he had walked in. The swishing sound of the green silk on the floor sounded loud as she walked barefoot towards him.
Avoiding her eyes, his glance was snagged and caught by the thin spaghetti strap that had slid down one smooth shoulder.
‘So this is really all about you and your guilt, your redemption, and not about Nat at all. You were not responsible for the accident because it was just that. If you’d been there that night you might be the one in a wheelchair.’ Her eyes darkened. ‘Or worse.’
‘There is no worse,’ he countered grimly.
Suddenly she felt very angry.
‘How long will it take you to forget my name, Danilo?’ She had gone beyond anger; there was just intense sadness in her soft voice.
‘It was only ever sex. What the hell are you doing?’
Tess lifted her chin. ‘Liar!’ she charged. ‘And I’m packing. I’m leaving because I’m sick of taking the blame for everything bad that happens in your life. I’m sick of it always being about your feelings, your needs. I’m sick of being our dirty secret because I thought the sex is good, but, you know, it’s not that good!’ she finished on a breathless note of antagonism.
The anger and fight suddenly drained out of her.
‘Do you even think you’ve done anything wrong?’ Without pause for her response, Danilo continued his ruthless and unfair analysis of the situation, answering his own question in a voice that was harsh with condemnation. ‘Of course you did. You’re not stupid, and I think that you didn’t just know, I think you lent your assistance to the affair. You know Nat’s vulnerable, but that didn’t matter to you, did it? You are so damned convinced that you know what is best...you just can’t resist meddling...’
Hands clenched, he leaned his head against the wall and, chest heaving, took several deep breaths as he pressed his fingers against his temples where anger pulsed and pounded.
‘I think that without you there would not have been an a
ffair.’
‘It had been going on long before I arrived.’
He brushed aside the irrelevant detail with a wave of his hand. ‘You knew that I wanted to keep that boy away from Nat.’
‘Like I said, Danilo, it’s not always about what you want.’ She slammed the lid closed on the case with a bang.
‘You planning on travelling like that?’
Without a word she stepped out of her dress.
Danilo swore and swung away. The hell of it was he wanted...he just wanted. Arms folded across his chest, he continued to stare out of the window.
‘Does anyone live up to your standards, Danilo?’ she wondered.
Nostrils flared, he turned back, Tess was standing there zipping up her jeans. She gave a loud sniff. Acknowledging that part of him still couldn’t hear that sniff without wanting to comfort her only intensified the levels of his outrage.
‘Well, you sure as hell don’t!’
‘You really are an obnoxious son of a...’ She picked up her case and stalked to the door and he didn’t make a move to stop her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHEN TESS ARRIVED back in London she got in a taxi and went straight to her flat. For the first time in her life the take-off and landing had not bothered her. The entire flight was a blur. She had felt numb and strangely disconnected from what was happening around her as she sat in the back of the taxi listening to the driver chat.
She felt as though she had been holding her breath since she had walked out of her bedroom, and it wasn’t until she closed the door of her flat behind her that she gave herself permission to breathe.
And feel. It was like walking into a wall of pain: unbearable!
With a cry she fell to her knees and, forehead pressed to the ground, began to weep. Keening sobs that seemed dragged from a place deep inside her.
She had no idea how long the storm lasted but when it was over she didn’t have the strength to get up so she lay where she was and fell asleep. It was the middle of the night when she woke up. She got to her feet, stepped over her case, which still lay where she had dropped it, and walked into the bedroom. Not pausing to remove her clothes, she flung herself on the bed and slept again.
That set the pattern for the next forty-eight hours: sleep punctuated by crying bouts. On the third day she looked at her dull-eyed reflection in the mirror and felt a wave of self-disgust.
What the hell am I doing? she asked herself. Other than acting like a total and complete gutless wonder?
She took a deep breath and literally and mentally squared her shoulders. At twenty-six, most people she knew had loved and lost at least once. It wasn’t as if what she was feeling was unique—no, that was Danilo. Teeth clenched, she pushed away the image of his face but not before the ache inside her had intensified to the point where she rocked her body to ease it.
Did the feeling ever go away? she wondered, feeling a retrospective stab of admiration for the people who had their hearts broken and didn’t fall apart.
It wasn’t even as if she had started out thinking there was any future between them. From Danilo’s side it had never been anything more than a sort of holiday romance, without much romance. The place that had existed was in her head.
She had known it would end, she had prepared herself for it, she just hadn’t expected the end to be so acrimonious.
She could take Danilo not loving her back but the idea of him out there somewhere hating her was almost unbearable. She lifted her chin and exhaled, pushing her hair behind her ears as she struggled to push past that pain. She would bear it because she hadn’t been raised to feel sorry for herself; she hadn’t been raised to quit.
She showered and realised she hadn’t eaten for days and checked out her store cupboard. A can of soup was about the only instant food she could find, so after she had eaten it she went out to shop. All so normal but so not normal.
Tess began to wonder if actually anything would ever be the same again. Would she be stuck in this cycle for ever? Her mood swinging wildly between deep despair, self-pity and anger?
That night she woke up at two in the morning wanting Danilo’s touch so much that the pain made her think she was having a heart attack.
When it had passed, she lay there thinking, If this is love, they can keep it.
She’d been home a week before she felt able to ring Fiona without falling apart. She gave her friend an expurgated version of the summer’s events and half an hour later Fiona landed on the doorstep with a bottle of wine in one hand, a carrier bag of chocolate bars in the other.
‘Let’s get drunk and fat.’
Tess appreciated the thought but the smell of the wine made her feel nauseous, so she passed. Not that it lessened the enjoyment of the evening, which came from being able to step away from her sadness for at least a few hours. It gave her some hope that one day she would be able to step away from it permanently, that she wasn’t doomed to walk around feeling as though she had a large weight attached to her chest for ever.
She rang her mum the next day, expecting a lecture on self-reliance and toughness. Only to be surprised when her parent reacted with sympathy, and when Tess admitted she had spent the last week wallowing, instead of her mum telling her to man up she shocked Tess by saying, ‘It was probably the best thing but maybe it’s time to move on now?’
Later, she turned up at Tess’s door, though her therapy was slightly different—a stack of election leaflets. She made Tess laugh when she suggested that pushing them through doors might be therapeutic.
Actually she was right—it was...weirdly.
Tess was glad when the first day of term finally arrived—the days that preceded it had felt like a lifetime—but as she stepped into the classroom and saw all the fresh, eager faces it felt like a clean-slate start.
She was going to look forwards, not sit in a corner and cry for what she’d lost because the things she was weeping for were things she’d never really had. She was lucky, she told herself, to be doing something she loved. Something that was fulfilling and challenging.
The start of a new school year was always hectic and this year particularly so. At the end of the first week Tess was feeling tired and drained, but she didn’t read anything into it, not until the following Monday when, before the lunch bell rang, she felt so faint and dizzy that she had to sit down with her head between her knees to wait for it to pass. While she sat there, her classroom assistant, Lily had called an ambulance.
Luckily, she recovered enough to cancel the ambulance that was being dispatched, but it was still a very embarrassing incident. Even though it seemed a waste of time to her, she agreed when the deputy head made her promise to make an appointment to see her doctor.
Quite willing and fully expecting to wait for an appointment—she could not be classed as an emergency—Tess was surprised when they said they had a cancellation if she could come right away. The deputy head, who was standing there listening in, commandeered the phone and spoke. ‘Yes, she can.’
‘But I feel fine now.’
Tess said the same thing when she explained what had happened to the doctor.
She walked out of the surgery half an hour later not feeling fine at all. Her legs felt like cotton wool, her knees were shaking and her brain had shut down.
It wasn’t until she found herself standing, looking in a shop window just around the corner from her flat, repeating what she had said to the doctor out loud—But I feel fine—that she realised two things. She probably wasn’t fine and she had left her car in the surgery car park.
She decided to leave her car until the morning and walk the rest of the way home. She was so dazed that she didn’t immediately see the person waiting outside her building for her until her name had been called out twice.
Her initial thought was, So I’m not pregnant, just mad.
‘Tess, are you all right?’
Tess blinked. Am I all right? Natalia Raphael was sitting ten feet away, a suitcase on her knee and a wary look
on her face.
‘Nat, what are you doing here?’
Natalia gave a loud sniff. ‘I have left home.’ She then began to sob in earnest. ‘Since you left Danilo has been totally impossible and when I said that if he wouldn’t let me see Marco I would leave, he did that looking-down-his-nose thing...you know what I mean.’
Tess felt a pang of envy; she did.
‘And I told him that Marco graduated top of his class, even though he was working two jobs, and he was the best thing that ever happened to me and you know what he did then?’
‘Before or after he stopped swearing?’
‘He didn’t even do that so obviously I left. I said I would.’
In other words Danilo had pushed her into a corner. Oh, but he was going to be frantic!
‘So Danilo doesn’t know where you are?’
‘No and you can’t tell him ever. Can I stay with you?’
‘I thought you’d want to be with Marco?’
‘Marco is as bad as Danilo. He said that I was being impulsive and I should go talk with my brother. Talk—I ask you!’
‘Oh, dear.’
‘Can I?’
‘I’d love to have you stay with me but...’ she glanced over her shoulder ‘...my flat is on the top floor and there isn’t a lift.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But don’t worry—I have an idea.’
Her mum arrived at the café when she and Nat were on their second cup of coffee, or at least Nat was. Tess had felt queasy after the first sip and spent the rest of the time stirring it.
Tess made the introductions. She had already given her mum the bare bones of the situation on the phone. ‘Mum has a ground-floor flat and she has plenty of room.’ She left the two to chat while she excused herself.
Tess hissed in frustration as she struggled to get a signal on her phone from the ladies’ room, and when she finally managed to get through to Danilo’s mobile number it went straight to the messaging service.
She really couldn’t bear the thought of his frantic reaction when he discovered his sister missing. Tess backed up her voice message with a text, just in case.