Irresistible You

by Victoria Connelly

  Rosanna closed her eyes and groaned. She didn’t want to be the cause of a big family bust-up but what was she going to do? She was falling in love with Reuben but it was looking as if she’d have to choose between going out with him or having a sister. It just didn’t seem fair. She hadn’t felt this way about somebody for years. Why did Fate have to choose her sister’s fiancé for her to fall in love with? Why couldn’t life be easy? Why couldn’t she have loved Corrado and adored his mother?

  She gazed up into the pearly grey sky, half-imagining that somebody was watching her from above - somebody who was having a laugh at her expense.

  Chapter 36

  Reuben was out of the Danieli first thing in the morning and had booked himself into another hotel less than a fifth of the price. Of course, it didn’t have a view of the lagoon but at least he wouldn’t feel guilty any more. Anyway, he thought, there was no telling how long he might be staying in Venice now and it would be exorbitant to pay out more than he really needed to.

  Leaving his things in his new, more modest room and finding a small internet café, he emailed a few contacts at home letting them know that he wouldn’t be back for a few days. As he sent his messages, he wondered what the future held in store. He was serious about Rosanna, and the ferocity of his feelings surprised him. He found himself contemplating the possibility of selling up in London and moving out to Venice to be with her. Would that work? He certainly got the impression that she wouldn’t want to leave Italy and he had come to see the magic of Venice in the short time he’d been there. Could he base himself there? He didn’t see why not. The place was idyllic for an artist.

  He thought of Sandro Constantini and how annoyed he’d be when he got back to discover that his favourite model had been poached by another, more superior artist. Reuben grinned to himself. Of course, Sandro Constantini was Italy’s main export in the art world and Reuben would certainly have a rival but he’d never feared competition – it was healthy enough - and it would be fun to try to overtake Signore Constantini in the fame-stakes.

  The prices of property in Venice had to be considered, though. Reuben’s place in London wasn’t the largest in the world nor was it in one of the most fashionable locations. In fact, it was more derisible than desirable. He wondered if Rosanna had any money put by. He didn’t expect she earned much as a model. So, he thought, they wouldn’t be buying a palazzo on the Grand Canal in the near future. In his mind’s eye, he conjured up a spacious room with one of those smoky-white glass chandeliers, and golden mirrors reflecting the opalescent Venetian light. A marble floor, polished like a mirror, led to a picture-perfect balcony and, turning to the left, the unrivalled view of the white dome of Santa Maria della Salute. Turning back into the room, Rosanna was lying, naked and lovely, on an antique chaise longue, her dark eyes beckoning to him.

  Reuben jolted as a finger tapped his shoulder like an angry woodpecker. He turned to see a ginger-haired man with thick glasses and a backpack the size of Gibraltar nodding to the computer Reuben was sat at.

  ‘Keep your hair on!’ Reuben said. ‘I was just logging off.’

  As he left the internet café and walked across a small campo, he couldn’t quite believe the recent chain of events. Since the day before, he’d broken up with his fiancée, declared his love to Rosanna and mentally moved home from London to Venice. Life, he thought, could really be rather exciting.

  *

  Rosanna was back at the apartment by lunchtime. She’d been right about the retired teacher on the Lido; he hadn’t noticed the vacant look of her eyes nor the skin like curdled milk. She’d stripped and sat and he’d painted and paid.

  She threw herself under a hot shower which was what she usually did after a sitting. It was as if she was washing away the gaze of the artist and restoring her body to herself. It also gave her time to think. Water, to Rosanna, was a provoker of thoughts. Whether it was a rainy day, a boat ride on the lagoon, staring into the jade depths of a canal or luxuriating in a steamy shower, each sent her mind into an inner labyrinth of reflection.

  She was just towelling herself dry when she heard the front door.

  ‘Merda!’ she cursed. People always seemed to time their visits for the moment you stepped out of the shower or placed a plate of hot food on the table.

  Padding through the apartment with bare feet, she ran down the stairs and opened the front door.

  ‘Reuben!’ she said, genuinely shocked to see him.

  ‘Rosanna!’ he said, genuinely shocked to see her too - in a bathrobe.

  ‘I was in the shower,’ she said, quite unnecessarily. ‘Come in before I freeze to death.’

  ‘Is Elena in?’

  ‘Of course she isn’t! What do you think? Do you think we’ve been having a nice cosy chat?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ he answered tersely.

  ‘We rowed and she’s gone to Mama’s.’

  ‘Where’s that?’

  ‘Positano.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yes. And I don’t think she’ll be coming back.’

  Reuben looked somewhat relieved by this last comment.

  ‘I’ve got to put some clothes on,’ Rosanna said, dripping on the floorboards in a perfect echo of the first time they’d met.

  ‘Rosanna?’ he called from downstairs as she was shoving her head through a light cotton jumper.

  ‘What?’

  ‘How long are you going to be?’

  ‘I’m getting dressed!’ she shouted back, tutting at his impatience. What was it with artists? They expected you to dress and undress in the most unreasonable of time spans.

  She reached in to the chest of drawers and stepped into a pair of jeans before returning back downstairs. Reuben was pacing up and down the apartment like a caged panther and Rosanna felt desperate for him at that moment. He might have seemed like the strong, invincible type but he was really just a little boy.

  ‘I don’t know what to do!’ he said.

  ‘How about we sit down?’ Rosanna said, giving him a small smile.

  He nodded and they sat down.

  ‘I feel terrible about all this,’ he said, sitting forward a little so that his back made a long slope away from Rosanna.

  ‘And you didn’t see Elena last night.’

  Reuben winced. ‘Was she angry?’

  ‘What do you think? Of course she was bloody angry! We both betrayed her - together! How horribly clichéd is that?’

  ‘God!’ Reuben groaned. ‘I was feeling all right this morning. In fact, I was walking around as if I’d just won the lottery or something. And then I thought - really thought about what I’d done to Elena.’

  Rosanna narrowed her eyes at his tone of voice. ‘You mean you want this to stop here?’

  Reuben turned to face her. ‘No!’ he cried, taking her hands in his. It was the first physical contact they’d had since the evening at the Danieli and Rosanna’s body heated up as if she’d spontaneously combusted.

  ‘Because I’ll understand if that’s what you want.’

  ‘Will you?’ Reuben asked, genuine puzzlement in his face.

  ‘NO!’ Rosanna shouted suddenly. ‘Of course I won’t! I’ll hate you if you do that to me!’

  ‘But I wasn’t going to - I mean, I’m not planning to!’

  They sat staring at one another for a moment, Reuben’s fingers stroking Rosanna’s. And then they kissed.

  ‘I’m falling in love with you,’ he whispered when they finally moved apart.

  ‘I should hope so,’ Rosanna whispered back with the tiniest of smiles. ‘I may have sacrificed my sister for you.’

  ‘Do you really think you have?’

  Rosanna sighed. She felt as if she were about to cry which would have been dreadful and probably enough to scare Reuben off for good. ‘I don’t think she’ll want to talk to me for a long time.’

  ‘I don’t think she’ll want to talk to me - ever!’

  ‘Then we’ve got a problem, haven’t we? If we want to be to
gether.’

  Reuben nodded. ‘But I don’t think we’re going to sort it out today.’

  Rosanna leant back against the sofa. Reuben was right: there was absolutely nothing they could do about it now. This problem was not the kind to be solved in twenty-four hours. They’d be lucky if it was sorted in twenty-four years.

  There was a knock at the door.

  ‘Are you expecting someone?’ Reuben asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be Elena, would it?’

  Rosanna shook her head. ‘She’ll be in Positano by now.’

  ‘Are you going to answer it?’

  ‘I think I should,’ Rosanna said. She was the sort who never liked not answering the door or the telephone because it would bug her for hours afterwards in case she’d missed a life-changing call.

  ‘Mark?’ she gasped a moment later.

  ‘I’m sorry. I should have called,’ he said, looking flustered.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Rosanna asked, looking over her shoulder.

  ‘Can’t you guess?’

  Rosanna nodded slowly. ‘She’s not here, I’m afraid.’

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘Can I come in?’

  Rosanna frowned. ‘I-’

  ‘Rosanna? Who’s that?’ Reuben’s voice called from the top of the stairs.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was here,’ said Mark.

  ‘I’m just coming,’ Rosanna called back up to Reuben, turning back to face Mark. ‘I’m sorry,’ she began. ‘Can you call back later?’ she asked, half-pushing the door closed, but it was too late: Reuben was standing beside her.

  ‘Hello,’ Mark said, nodding to Reuben. ‘I’m Mark.’

  ‘Mark?’ Reuben said, the word exiting his mouth like a bullet. ‘The teacher?’

  Rosanna rolled her eyes as if she could already see the scene ahead, and the realisation that there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  ‘Yes, I’m Mark. Have we met?’

  ‘No,’ Reuben said tersely. ‘But I think you know my fiancé.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Rosanna’s sister, Elena,’ Reuben said with a dark scowl.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Why the hell are you here?’ Reuben demanded.

  ‘Reuben-’ Rosanna started.

  ‘What business is it of yours?’ Mark asked defensively.

  ‘Because I want to know if you’ve been seeing Elena behind my back.’

  ‘Of course I bloody have. I’m engaged to her!’

  ‘What? What the hell are you talking about?’

  ‘Elena is my fiancé. Or, rather, she was until she returned my ring this morning.’

  ‘Oh, Mark!’ Rosanna cried.

  ‘But she’s engaged to me!’ Reuben shouted.

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ Rosanna interrupted.

  ‘What?’ Reuben barked at her

  ‘You broke up with Elena to be with me!’

  ‘You’re engaged to Elena?’ Mark said, his forehead set in a series of serious wrinkles.

  ‘Was engaged to Elena!’ Rosanna corrected.

  ‘When, for God’s sake?’

  ‘Yesterday!’ Reuben said.

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  Rosanna flung her hands up to the heavens. ‘I knew this would happen! And I knew Elena wouldn’t be around to sort it out when it did!’

  Rosanna pushed Reuben up the stairs and Mark followed behind.

  ‘Rosanna!’ Mark shouted. ‘Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on or not?’

  ‘YES!’ Rosanna yelled back. ‘Look. Just come in and sit down - both of you!’ she said, seeing Reuben turning to face her with a dark scowl.

  ‘You knew about Mark and you didn’t tell me?’ Reuben said.

  ‘It wasn’t like you think.’

  ‘Then what was it like?’ Reuben asked.

  ‘Sit down - both of you!’ Rosanna told them, her voice holding the authority of a headmistress. ‘This hasn’t been much fun for me either, you know. I told her to sort things out.’

  ‘I can’t believe this,’ Mark said. ‘Was she really engaged to us both at the same time?’

  Reuben looked over at Mark and, for the first time, their eyes met in what could have been interpreted as shared suffering.

  ‘I don’t know how or why she did it but, yes, she was engaged to you both at once.’

  Mark and Reuben glowered at Rosanna.

  ‘Well, don’t look at me as if I had something to do with it! I did my best to get her to sort things out - believe me!’

  ‘But now she’s not engaged to either of us!’ Mark pointed out.

  Rosanna sighed and shook her head.

  ‘But you two are together now - have I got that right?’ Mark asked.

  Rosanna looked across at Reuben to help her out.

  ‘I broke up with Elena last night,’ he confessed.

  ‘You did?’ Mark asked Reuben incredulously.

  ‘Well, not in so many words. Actually, I didn’t need to say anything. She kind of guessed.’

  ‘And then she broke up with me. No wonder she was behaving crazily this morning.’

  Mark sank down on one of the sofas. His skin was deathly pale.

  ‘Mark!’ Rosanna said, sitting down next to him and taking his hands in hers. ‘She loved you! She really did!’

  ‘And what about me?’ Reuben asked.

  Rosanna turned to see the hurt in Reuben’s face. ‘She loved you too!’

  ‘You can’t love two people at once,’ Reuben said flatly.

  ‘You’re one to talk!’

  Reuben flushed scarlet. ‘But would she have told me?’

  ‘Or me?’

  Rosanna bit her lip. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘I really believe she loved you both - in her own way. I truly believe that! I don’t know what her plans were. I’m her sister but that doesn’t mean she tells me everything.’

  ‘And you weren’t going to tell either of us?’ Mark asked.

  ‘That wasn’t really my place, was it?’

  ‘I can’t get my head round this,’ Mark said. ‘Yesterday, I was engaged. Today, I’ve been dumped and find out that my ex-fiancée was engaged to two men at once and that the other man dumped her before she dumped me and is now seeing her sister! Have I got that right?’

  ‘Mark!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You make this sound awful!’

  ‘It is awful!’

  ‘You make it sound like it’s all my fault,’ Rosanna said, a sob rising in her voice.

  Reuben sat down next to her so that she was sandwiched between him and Mark.

  ‘It isn’t your fault. We know that!’

  ‘Reuben’s right, Rosanna! I’m sorry,’ Mark said. ‘I didn’t mean to sound so angry.’

  ‘I didn’t want any of this to happen,’ she said, her eyes suddenly filling with tears.

  ‘We know,’ Reuben said, putting an arm around her shoulder.

  ‘It’s just, all this has come as a bit of a shock,’ Mark said.

  ‘That’s right,’ Reuben added, seemingly working in tandem with Mark.

  Rosanna reached into her jeans pocket, pulled out a tissue and trumpeted into it. ‘This is terrible!’ she said. ‘I can’t believe all this has happened.’

  ‘What was that?’ Reuben suddenly asked.

  ‘What was what?’ Rosanna asked, mopping her eyes with her sodden tissue.

  ‘I thought I heard the door.’

  ‘I didn’t lock it,’ Rosanna said in sudden panic.

  The three of them turned around from the sofa to face the steps up from the front door and listened as heavy footsteps were heard approaching them.

  ‘MERDA!’ a voice filled the room as an angry, dark-haired man entered the living room. ‘I go away for a couple of months and come back to an orgy in my studio!’

  Sandro Constantino was back home.

  Chapter 37

  Naples. Home of the pizza, Mount Ves
uvius and some of the worst drivers in Italy, Elena mused as she navigated her way from Naples airport in her hired Fiat Uno. It was a horrible journey through the long, endless tunnels until she hit the coast road to Positano. Then, the horrors of the journey melted away as the beauty of the sea assaulted her. She always forgot how beautiful it was. Clinging to the knife-edged cliffs, the houses, painted in yellows, pinks, reds and whites, looked ready to tumble into the bright sea below if the merest wisp of a breeze shook them. The houses themselves were far simpler than the ones she’d left behind in Venice. Who needed columns and arches and endless domes when one had the sea to look at? Positano’s architecture was far less ostentatious. Clean, simple lines prevailed which made the town look rather Lego-like from a distance. On closer inspection, however, balconies and pots of flowers softened the lines and showed themselves to be worthy of a thousand holiday snaps and postcards.

  It was a bare and bony landscape along many stretches, with vegetation losing its battle against the impenetrable rock, but Elena loved it. It was just what she needed at the moment and she was glad she’d made the decision to come.

  Emiliana Montella had only been in Positano for two years. She was a bit of a nomad and had owned, since Elena and Rosanna had left home, two apartments in Rome, a villa in Calabria, and a farmhouse in Liguria before selling up and moving to Positano. Elena hadn’t really been surprised. Her mother had always loved beautiful things and beautiful places, and Positano was, perhaps, one of Italy’s loveliest towns.

  Slowing the hire care to take a treacherous bend in the road, Elena took a quick look at the sea. The light was bewitchingly bright and forced Elena to reach for the sunglasses which she rarely wore in London. Shifting down a gear, she took another hairpin bend and found herself behind a coach of tourists no doubt on their Amalfi coast tour. It gave her time to admire the scenery herself. The roads and view were also a perfect distraction from everything she’d left behind her because there was very little room left in head for problems when she was driving on these roads and that was just how she liked it.