Blackmailed into the Italian’s Bed

by Miranda Lee

  ‘You never did when we lived together.’

  ‘I was happy then.’

  ‘And you aren’t now?’

  The door to a nearby apartment opening made Jordan wince.

  ‘You’d better come inside,’ she said quickly, not wanting any of her neighbours to overhear their conversation.

  Gino didn’t waste any time taking up her offer, she noted, pushing past her into the apartment with his usual confident stride.

  Fighting off a sense of doom, Jordan closed the door, then followed him into the open-plan living area.

  Gino was impressed with the size and quality of her apartment, but taken aback by the décor. It was so stark! Other than the polished wooden floors, everything was black and white. With no splashes of colour, no photos or pictures on the all-white walls. No knick-knacks on any of the black-lacquered side-tables.

  The lounge furniture was black leather and hard-looking, with no big squashy cushions to provide any sense of warmth or comfort. The one rug on the floor was not fluffy and soft underfoot, but serviceable and hard, with a geometric pattern in black and white.

  The place was soulless, and cold.

  Was that how Jordan thought of herself these days? Was that why she was so unhappy?

  Gino was determined to find out. Determined to tell her the truth at last as well.

  ‘Would you like some coffee?’ she asked, in a stiffly polite voice. ‘I was just about to make some when you showed up.’

  He turned round to see that she’d kept her distance, her hands clutching the lapels of her pink dressing gown in a vulnerable gesture which made him feel guilty. So did the evidence of her weeping.

  He’d done that to her. Made her afraid. Made her sad.

  ‘Yes, please,’ he replied. ‘I take it—’

  ‘Black and strong with three sugars,’ she finished for him.

  His heart turned over. ‘You remembered.’

  Her eyes suddenly shimmered. ‘How could I forget?’ she retorted. ‘You practically lived on the damned stuff.’

  ‘I’m Italian. We love our coffee.’

  ‘Don’t remind me.’

  Gino frowned. ‘That I love coffee?’

  ‘That you’re Italian!’ she snapped, then stormed off into the kitchen, which was visible from the living room. Gino wandered over to sit up at the white breakfast bar, shaking his head when he saw that absolutely everything in the kitchen was white, and very shiny.

  ‘And what does that mean?’ she said sharply, without turning round from her coffee-making.

  ‘What does what mean?’

  ‘The way you’re shaking your head. I can see your reflection in the mirrored splashback.’

  Gino didn’t doubt it. ‘I was wondering why the obsession with white?’

  She spun round. Not a good idea when one was holding two full mugs of steaming hot black coffee. But she managed not to spill any.

  ‘White’s a very practical colour. Everything goes with it.’

  ‘Everything so long as it’s black?’

  ‘Chad loved my place.’

  ‘That says a lot for the man,’ Gino shot back, before he suddenly realised something. ‘You just said loved. Not loves. Would you like to tell me what that means?’

  Jordan smothered a groan. Trust him to pick up on that. She hadn’t meant to tell Gino about Chad. Not unless he’d tried to blackmail her again. But the cat was out of the bag now, so there was no point in trying to lie.

  She’d never been a good liar, anyway.

  ‘I rang to break it off with Chad this morning,’ she confessed with creditable calm. ‘But he got in first.’

  ‘He broke off your engagement?’

  ‘Yes. He discovered that he wanted an American wife after all. Name of Caroline. I gather he spent last night with her.’

  ‘And that’s why you’ve been crying?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think you’re better off not marrying someone who doesn’t love you.’

  She slanted Gino a reproachful glance as she made her way from the kitchen with the coffee. ‘Spoken by an expert on the subject.’ She put the mugs down onto the coffee table, then returned to the kitchen for some chocolate biscuits.

  ‘If you were my fiancée,’ he said, ‘I would never look at another woman, let alone sleep with one.’

  His words evoked instant fury in Jordan. ‘Well, that’s not ever likely to happen, is it? My being your fiancée. Look, you had your chance to marry me ten years ago, Gino, and you didn’t. You left me and never gave me a second thought till you just happened to run into me again.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ he denied heatedly. ‘Not a day went by when I didn’t think of you. Why do you think I never got married? I’ll tell you why. Because if I couldn’t have you as my wife, I didn’t want anyone. That’s the bitter truth of it. As for my not coming back for you—I stayed away for ten years because I knew I could never offer you what you deserved. And you’re wrong about my running into you by accident last Friday night. That was no bloody accident.’

  Jordan just stared at him, her mind spinning at his impassioned declarations. His eyes blazed as they held hers, his hands balled into fists on the counter-top.

  ‘I’d avoided coming to Sydney on business all this time—always delegating and sending someone else when necessary. I knew to keep away from the place. Knew I wouldn’t be able to handle being near you. But ten years had gone by. I’d been dating this girl for a while, and my family were pressuring me to marry her. I was getting older, and it seemed ridiculously romantic to let the memory of an affair stop me from marrying and having children of my own. I knew I didn’t love Claudia, but I told myself that Italian marriages weren’t always a matter of love, but of caring and compatibility. I convinced myself that it would work.’

  Jordan was amazed at how much his thoughts and feelings had echoed her own. It had killed her, that trip she’d made to Italy, thinking he was somewhere close but still out of reach.

  His eyes begged for understanding as he went on. ‘I knew I couldn’t do it till I’d made one last trip to Sydney. To see how being in your city would affect me. There’s this derelict building site in the middle of Sydney’s CBD that Dad bought just before he died, and I hadn’t done anything with it. I told my mother that now the time was right to build on it. But really it was just an excuse to come up here and see how I felt. The moment I flew into Mascot that Friday the memories just swamped me, and I knew I couldn’t leave without at least finding out what had happened to you. I thought you’d probably be married, a beautiful girl like you. So I was astounded when the PI I hired reported you were a lawyer, and single. More than astounded when I was told where you worked. Hell, I’d been there that very afternoon!

  ‘That near-miss almost sent me crazy. I knew then that I had to see you for myself. So I had you followed when you left work that night. Which was how I came to be down in that bar. It wasn’t a coincidence, Jordan. It was all my doing.’

  Jordan didn’t know what to think. Or feel. He had to be telling her the truth. And yet…

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this last Friday night?’

  ‘I wish I had. But I wasn’t sure how you felt about me. Or where you were at in your life. I told myself I just wanted to see you again and make sure you were happy. But then we danced and I…I lost my head over you—as usual. Of course there was that little added problem of my having deceived you ten years ago. I suspected—rightly so—that you weren’t going to be too thrilled with that. And once you were in my arms I didn’t want to take the risk of your rejecting me. Which you did, Jordan. As soon as you found out. You rejected me, then stormed off and accepted another man’s proposal of marriage.’

  ‘You could have told me all this at dinner last night!’ she pointed out, determined not to take everything he said at face value. She’d learned from her years of being a lawyer that people twisted the truth to their own selfish ends all the time.

  �
�After I found out you were engaged to another man?’ he countered. ‘Come on, Jordan, be reasonable! I have my pride.’

  ‘And I have mine!’

  ‘For pity’s sake, can’t we get beyond this ridiculous repartee? I’ve come here to talk to you. To make you see the truth.’

  ‘The truth is not necessarily the same for different people.’

  ‘Spoken like a lawyer.’

  ‘A lawyer who’s sick and tired of being taken for a ride. Your actions speak louder than your words, Gino.’

  ‘My actions brought me here today. I could have flown back to Melbourne this morning and not given you a second thought—as you’ve just said. But I didn’t. I came here to talk to you. The least you can do is give me a hearing.’

  ‘If I must.’

  ‘I’m not leaving till I’ve said everything that has to be said.’

  ‘In that case, come and have your blasted coffee whilst it’s still hot.’

  Gino’s mouth thinned with frustration as he slid off the stool and walked over to scoop up the mugs from the coffee table.

  ‘What on earth are you doing?’ she asked, as she followed him with the plate of biscuits.

  ‘Taking these out onto your balcony. This place gives me the shivers.’

  ‘Huh. You have no sense of style. This is the latest thing in minimalism.’

  ‘How New York! But you’re Australian, Jordan. You live in a land of colour and contrasts—of blues, greens, reds and browns. How can you bear to live in this colourless place? At least from your balcony we can see the sparkling blue water and feel the warmth of the sun.’

  ‘How dare you come here and criticise my home!’

  ‘I dare because I care.’

  ‘Since when?’ she snapped.

  ‘Since the first moment I saw you. Now, stop arguing with me, woman, and make yourself useful. I can’t open that sliding glass door with both my hands full, you know.’

  She obeyed blankly, he noted, her face in shock.

  For Gino’s part, he felt more hopeful than he had since he’d awoken that morning and read that ghastly note. A smile pulled at his mouth as he stepped out through the open doorway.

  The balcony was a distinct improvement on the inside, facing east and having privacy walls at each end. Her outdoor furniture wasn’t too bad, either, made of a rich red wood. She even had a couple of potted palms in the corners.

  The day was pleasantly warm and not too windy, despite it being August. Lots of boats were out on the harbour. Water-lovers always came out in their droves on days like this.

  ‘This is much better,’ Gino said, as he put the mugs down on the table and then settled in one of the seats.

  His comment seemed to snap her out of her bemused state, and her blue eyes turned cold on him again.

  ‘We’ll have to talk quietly,’ she said waspishly as she sat down. ‘I don’t want the neighbours hearing us argue.’

  ‘I have no intention of arguing any more. Have you?’

  ‘Absolutely not!’

  ‘Good. But perhaps we should enjoy our coffee first. Then, if things get a bit heated, we can go back inside.’

  Jordan sipped her coffee in silence, whilst Gino gulped his down, then wolfed several of the biscuits. Her appetite had once again disappeared, her emotions in total disarray.

  But she was determined not to fall victim to Gino’s empty charms. Or to his sudden declaration of caring.

  If he cared, then let him show it. And not just in the bedroom.

  ‘I have a proposition to put to you,’ he said at last.

  ‘I’m sure you have.’

  ‘No, not that kind of proposition.’

  ‘Then what kind?’

  ‘I want you to come to Melbourne with me when I go back. I want you to stay with me, at my place.’

  Jordan just gaped at him.

  ‘I know you don’t believe I really care for you. You’ve said more than once that all I want from you is sex. I want to prove to you that that’s not so. You’ll have your own bedroom during your visit. There will be no sex. Just a getting-to-know-each-other-again process. Then we’ll find out if what we feel for each other is love, or just lust.’

  ‘And if it is love?’ Jordan choked out. ‘What then? You still won’t marry me.’

  Gino pulled a face. ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.’

  ‘I…I don’t know, Gino.’ She’d promised herself not to give in to what he wanted this time. Promised herself to stay strong.

  But what if he did love her as she loved him?

  Jordan swallowed, a lump coming into her throat with her finally admitting what she’d been trying to ignore all her life. She did still love Gino. She always had and always would.

  Impossible now to walk away. She wasn’t that strong.

  ‘All right,’ she said quietly, despite being gripped by the fear of having her heart broken even worse this time.

  The delight in his face soothed that fear somewhat. ‘You mean it? You’ll come home with me today?’

  ‘Not today, Gino. I have to go to work tomorrow and sort things out. I have clients, and cases.’ And a ring which had to be sent back to Chad.

  ‘Why don’t you resign? Good lawyers like you are needed everywhere. You could get a job in Melbourne as easily as Sydney.’

  ‘But I might not be staying in Melbourne,’ she pointed out. ‘Things might not work out between us.’

  ‘They will.’

  She shook her head, not having his confidence. ‘Look, I was going to resign anyway,’ she admitted. ‘Then go overseas for a while. I feel tired, Gino, very tired.’

  ‘Yes, I can see that,’ he said.

  His gentle tone touched her. As did his soft eyes. ‘I…I’m not going to promise anything.’

  ‘You don’t have to.’

  ‘If you try to seduce me I’ll leave immediately.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  ‘A week,’ she said at last. ‘I’ll give you a week.’

  ‘That’s not very long.’

  ‘Take it or leave it.’

  ‘I’ll take it.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  'SO what’s up?’ Kerry said, as soon as Jordan came out of Frank’s office on Monday morning. ‘You don’t look too happy.’

  Jordan had mulled over what she would tell Kerry all night, finally deciding that her friend deserved the truth—or at least an edited version of it.

  ‘Could you get away for a cup of coffee?’ she asked her.

  Kerry frowned. ‘That bad, is it?’

  ‘Not bad. Life-changing.’

  Kerry’s finely plucked eyebrows arched upwards. ‘Life-changing? In what way?’

  Jordan scooped in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. ‘I’ve just handed in my resignation.’

  ‘What?’ Kerry leapt out of her chair. ‘Oh, my goodness, Jordan, why?’

  ‘I can’t tell you the full reason here.’

  ‘What reason did you give Frank?’

  ‘That Chad had broken our engagement over the weekend and I needed to get away for a while.’

  ‘He didn’t!’

  ‘Yes, actually, he did. But if he hadn’t I would have. I finally realised that I just didn’t love him enough to marry him.’

  Kerry grimaced. ‘It isn’t because of that Italian guy again, is it?’

  Jordan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  Overnight, she’d done her best to feel positive about the possibility of a future with Gino, but deep in her heart she knew things wouldn’t work out. He was never going to marry her, and she’d never just live with a man; she was old-fashioned that way.

  At the same time, she couldn’t see herself marrying any other man—so why not grab what happiness she could whilst it lasted?

  ‘I don’t want to say any more till we’re away from prying ears and eyes.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll just go tell Frank that I’ll be away from my desk for a while. I’ll say you’re upset and I’m taking yo
u downstairs for a cuppa.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Jordan said, thinking that wasn’t too far from the truth. Handing in her resignation had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done.

  Still, Frank had been very understanding, promising to arrange for another lawyer to take over her case-load, which thankfully was minimal at the moment. She’d spent the last few weeks on the Johnson case.

  Several minutes later she was sitting over a cappuccino in the café downstairs, with Kerry impatiently waiting for her to elaborate.

  ‘Before you jump to conclusions,’ Jordan began. ‘I didn’t decide not to marry Chad because of a memory. I ran into my Italian again.’

  ‘You ran into him? Where?’

  Jordan had already decided not to mention anything about their original meeting in the Rendezvous Bar.

  ‘At the new client dinner last Saturday night. You seated me right next to him.’

  Kerry gaped at her. ‘Are you saying Gino Bortelli is your Italian?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh, my goodness…But…but he’s not a labourer. He’s rich and successful! From what I’ve heard his family’s loaded.’

  Jordan sighed, then explained what had happened all those years ago.

  ‘I see,’ Kerry bit out, not looking too impressed. ‘Now I know why you acted so oddly last Saturday night.’ Her eyes suddenly widened, as they did when realisation struck. ‘You spent the night with him, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Jordan admitted.

  ‘Sunday too, I’ll warrant.’

  ‘No. We just talked on Sunday. That’s when he asked me to go to Melbourne, and I said I would.’

  ‘Oh, Jordan, don’t be such a fool. He used you all those years ago and he’ll use you again. Men like him, they change their girlfriends as often as their cars.’

  ‘You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, Kerry. But I have to do this. I don’t have a choice.’

  ‘You love him that much?’

  She nodded, tears pricking at her eyes.

  Kerry sighed. ‘If you ever want to come back, Frank would rehire you in a flash. You know that, don’t you? He thinks you’re great. We all do.’