Far From Perfect (22 page)

This time it was Anna’s turn to comfort. She knew the story of Nick’s mother’s suicide, and she knew how deeply it had affected him. But she’d never been fully aware of its effect on Carlo too.

“Niccolo blames me for her death, and rightly so.” The Italian man’s voice was stronger now, as if he’d come to terms with his guilt and had accepted it. “But it has colored his own feelings more than he knows. He is wary of relationships. He distrusts love. He believes that because his mother’s love for me damaged her, any woman who loves him will suffer just as much.”

Dark brown eyes held hers. “And he shuns commitment for that reason. He denies love in order to protect the women he cares about. He believes he is his father’s son and will blight the life of any woman he marries.”

Could that be it?

Anna felt a surge of excitement and of hope. But immediately she crushed it down. Carlo had said that Nick kept his own counsel, and the reason for that was that the woman he feared he’d hurt by marrying her was probably Maria Rossi, not her. He was probably still trying to protect his father’s dreams by playing down his deep commitment to the Italian actress when he knew that Carlo wanted a Lisitano and Felgate union.

She was grasping around for something to say when Carlo reached out and clasped her hand.

“But my son is a better man than I, Anna. Stronger, more intelligent and more honorable. With the right woman—” his weathered hand gripped her paler one tighter “—he will be a fine husband. A loving husband. A husband who will make a marriage that will endure indefinitely and be a source of the deepest joy for both parties.”

Yes, for Nick and Maria
, thought Anna sorrowfully. She opened her mouth, wondering how she could tell Carlo as kindly as she could that the dreams he—and her own father—obviously still harbored just couldn’t come true.

But before she could speak, Carlo was looking beyond her, his face suddenly wreathed in smiles, his eyes lighting proudly.

“
Figlio mio
!” he cried, giving her hand a last squeeze before rising to his feet, stepping around the table and moving forward to hug the tall, golden-haired figure who had just appeared in the periphery of Anna’s vision.

As father and son embraced, she was grateful for a moment’s grace to gather her wits and keep from falling to pieces. The impact of Nick, here in the flesh instead of just the painful phantom who’d haunted her waking and sleeping dreams for the last six weeks, literally took her breath away. She fought not to gasp, not to whoosh in air like an Olympic swimmer.

How could a man she believed was perfect already manage to look even more arresting, even more male?

Clad in one of his sublimely tailored near-black suits, worn with a toning shirt and tie, Nick looked like every inch her nemesis, an avenging dark angel. He’d had his glorious hair cut recently, she noted, feeling strangely out of it, and yet at the same time able to quantify everything about him. It was much shorter, almost severe, and vaguely militaristic. And his face too, had a new harshness about it. She wasn’t the only one who appeared to have lost weight.

The carved lines of Nick’s classical features looked even more sculpted now. His cheekbones were sharp and the contour of his jaw hard and unforgiving.

And his eyes, when he brought them to bear upon her, drilled like lasers.

Anna’s heart beat like a trip-hammer.

What’s happened to him? What has he been through? Deep, deep inside her, a microscopic plume of hope blossomed, but she squashed it ruthlessly. It wasn’t her he’d been suffering over, but the injured Maria—the woman he’d chosen to spend his time with instead of his fake fiancée.

As Carlo slapped his son’s arm, then resumed his seat, she had absolutely no idea what to do. She was a social being. She ran her own business. She hosted her father’s parties. She
always
knew what to do.

But not now. Now, she remained frozen in her seat, pinned there by the burning intensity in Nick Lisitano’s bright blue gaze.

“Anna,” he murmured. His voice sounded odd, and he seemed so focused on her that she could almost imagine that he’d instantly forgotten the presence of his own father. The heart that had raced and leapt in Anna’s breast seemed to falter and freeze momentarily, and she couldn’t help but drag in that huge breath again as he took a step towards her.

Yet still she couldn’t rise. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t make any gesture of greeting.

But she didn’t need to. Two long, beautiful hands reached down and settled one on either side of her hot face as he inclined his lean body towards her and brought his lips ever so gently down on hers.

Her heart began to thunder again, and for the second time in as many minutes, the threat that she might cry pricked acutely at her eyes.

His lips lingered, soft as velvet, yet firm and thrillingly positive upon hers. Her own mouth grew malleable, accepting. Her lips opened like a hungry flower greedy for the sun.

For a moment, an hour, a lifetime, she felt the caress of his sublimely sensual mouth upon hers, and the tantalizing touch of his tongue as it acknowledged her own yielding. Then the contact was gone and it was as if her soul went with it.

Her eyelids swept down, as if unwilling to allow him to see the totality of her emotions.

That wasn’t for you
, she told herself starkly.
That was for Carlo’s benefit. He still believes there’s something viable between you and Nick, and Nick doesn’t want to disappoint him.

“I’ve missed you,
cara
.”

His voice sounded so sincere, so very real in its emotion, and his fingertips trailed across her cheek as he withdrew.

When she opened her eyes, she realized that Carlo had withdrawn to a chair at the other side of the low table, and something inside her lurched as Nick took his father’s place on the banquette beside her. The light, yet stirring spice of his subtle exotic cologne made her head feel as if she were on a merry-go-round—and it whirled faster when he took her hand in his.

It’s for show. It’s for show
, she repeated to herself, and yet something about the enclosing contact of his long fingers filled her with a sensation of electricity. The way he held her felt real and true. Dangerously and temptingly lasting.

For the next fifteen minutes father and son engaged in a relaxed, comfortable conversation that she knew she would never remember afterwards. It was light, social, inconsequential, and even though she participated she was barely aware of what she was saying. Every one of her senses was so completely tuned in on the heat of his hand around hers, the low, thrilling cadence of his voice, and the unearthly blue glint of his eyes every time he looked her way that she unconsciously tuned out everything else.

He’s everything I’ll ever want
, she thought detachedly.
And this might be the most I’ll ever have. So I’ll remember every last detail about him now, even if it kills me.

But, presently, she was forced to reconnect with sudden reality.

“I’m afraid I will have to drag Anna away from you now, Papà,” Nick was saying, and as he spoke, he rose to his feet. The pressure on her fingers tightened, growing momentarily imperious.

He wanted her to go with him. But where?

“So soon?” The look in Carlo’s eyes belied the disappointment in his voice. It was obvious that he wanted the two of them to be alone together.

“Yes, alas…there’s something I’m anxious to show her, and it involves a drive. You don’t mind, do you?”

He was asking Carlo, but it also seemed as if he was asking her too. Unable to do anything other than comply, she too rose to her feet. A strange look of relief flashed briefly across his face, and then he was bidding a warm
arrivaderci
to his father.

Anna took the chance to excuse herself for a moment and retreat to the powder room.

What does he want? Where does he want to take me? And why?

Heat, the unpleasant, rising flush of panic, surged through her. Had she just been quietly fooling herself all these weeks that there could still possibly be something between them? It seemed she had. And now crunch time had come, along with the inevitable elucidation that he and Maria were an item again. Something Anna wasn’t sure she was able to face.

Shape up!
she ordered, looking up from where she was running cold water over her wrists to calm her frazzled nerves.
Six weeks ago you’d totally given up on him, so what’s the difference now?

Admittedly, she no longer had her relationship with Martin, but that had never really been right, and it was probably far better for both her and her erstwhile boyfriend that they’d parted. She’d heard on the grapevine that Martin was on the point of getting engaged to a new girl, one his mother absolutely doted on, and she was genuinely happy for him and knew he was better off without her.

But where does that leave me?
She had no answers as she left the powder room and returned to the foyer.

Her heart did a somersault again at the sight of Nick standing by the door waiting for her. He was so beautiful and dramatic in the elegant dark clothing that contrasted so stunningly with his gleaming, newly short hair. Even in the few moments it took her to reach him she saw a whole series of women check him out hungrily as they entered or left the hotel.

“Ready?” he enquired lightly, his face totally unrevealing.

Anna nodded, her heart still turning over so much she was quite unable to speak. Her crooked smile felt as if it was pinned to her face as she exited in front of him through the large revolving door.

Once outside, she expected the doorman to snag them a taxi, but instead, there was a familiar throaty roar and the Vampiro slid to a halt in front of them, driven by one of the hotel’s parking valets. In spite of her nervousness, Anna was amused by the awed expression on the young man’s face as he stepped from the stunning black vehicle and handed it over to its owner. But she felt a moment of apprehension herself as Nick assisted her into the car. This time she was wearing a slim skirt and the Vampiro was curb-huggingly low.

“Where are we going?” she asked once they were underway and Nick was expertly threading his way through the city’s afternoon traffic.

“You’ll see,” he answered neutrally, slanting her a momentary sideways glance before returning his full attention to the stream of vehicles jockeying around the Vampiro. “It won’t take too long,” he added, the cryptic note in his voice also seeming to suggest that they keep the conversation to a minimum.

Fine by me
, she thought, admitting now she was finally alone with him she didn’t actually know what to say. Their situation was so weird, so badly defined. They were still acting as if they were engaged, obviously, for Carlo’s sake. But in reality, had they broken up the last time they’d seen each other? It seemed that way, but nothing had been said. Nothing had really been agreed.

Suddenly weary, she let her head sink back against the deeply padded headrest and tried to clear her mind of all thoughts and fears and worries.

Astonishingly, after a few moments of listening to traffic noise, she seemed to achieve her goal. Not even Nick blowing the Vampiro’s horn, and muttering something dark sounding in Italian as another motorist cut him up, could disturb her. Against the odds, she drifted into a shallow sleep.

It occurred to her, just as her consciousness began to fuzz, that it was because six long weeks of tension and speculation were finally almost over. Wherever they were going, she’d soon know for certain if it was genuinely the end with Nick.

Once they were clear of Central London and on a quieter road well on their way to their destination, Nick finally allowed himself the luxury of glancing at the woman asleep beside him.

His heart clenched at the sight of Anna’s beautiful face, and guilt washed over him as he recognized the refining effect of weight-loss and the faintest of delicate violet shadows beneath her eyes.

They were his fault. They were the product of pain caused by him. He drew in a ragged breath, swearing with every fiber of his heart and soul and body that he would wipe away those signs of unhappiness and tension and replace them with a glow of contentment, peace and security.

If she would allow him, he’d keep her from sadness for as long as she lived.

Anna came awake with a jolt, alerted by a sharp beeping sound and aware that the powerful car had slowed to a crawl. She rubbed her eyes carefully, instinctively remembering that she was wearing her everyday business makeup and that it wouldn’t do to look like a startled panda in front of Nick. Even if she felt like one.

Blinking, she studied their surroundings, her heart thudding with a sudden, almost fatalistic surprise when she saw that they were sliding between the open gates of the distinctive pink house they’d happened upon all those weeks ago. The night that they’d visited La Girandole and made love for the very first time in four long years.

“What are we doing here?”

Struggling with her seatbelt, she glanced from the rosy facade of the quirky rambling building to Nick’s intent face beside her. He wasn’t looking at the pretty pink house, but at her face, his blue eyes burningly intense and as watchful as a hawk’s. Pocketing the tiny remote that had opened the gates for them, he reached over and deftly, and without looking what he was doing, he released her from the harness. His attention remained completely focused on her.

About to repeat her question, she froze to stillness when he reached out and forestalled her words with the lightest touch of his fingertip on her lips.

“Hush,
ragazza
,” he murmured, and then a moment later, he was out of the car, around to her side, and had the Vampiro’s dramatic gull-wing door lifting open.

Taking her hand, he helped her out on to the raked gravel drive. Gently, but brooking no protest, he led her towards the dark gleaming burgundy-painted door to the house. As they stood on the threshold, he extracted a key from his pocket and let them in, quickly deactivating a security alarm set on the wall, just within.