Reunited with Her Italian Ex by Lucy Gordon Page B

buy each other coffee.’
    â€˜Good. Waiter!’
    â€˜No, I meant that I’d buy you a coffee.’
    â€˜Stop giving me orders. I’m buying and that’s that.’
    â€˜Yes, ma’am. Anything you say, ma’am.’
    â€˜Mind you, you’ll have to do the talking.’
    He nodded, gave the waiter the order in Italian, then watched as she paid.
    â€˜Have you explored anywhere recently?’ he asked.
    â€˜I’ve looked around a bit, but there’s still one big place I’ve set my heart on visiting and that’s Juliet’s tomb.
    â€˜Now it’s a museum,’ she said. ‘It seems to attract as many tourists as the balcony, so I must go there and plan the next article.’
    â€˜There’s a
Comunità
hotel nearby,’ Mario said. ‘The Albergo Martinez. You met the owner the other night. We could dine there tonight and hear anything they have to say. Let me call him.’
    He took out his phone, made a call and started talking in Italian. While she was waiting, her own mobile phone beeped. Her heart beat hard with horror when she read the text message.
    After a few minutes Mario hung up, saying, ‘He’s expecting us in a couple of hours.’
    He stopped suddenly, frowning as he saw her staring into space, full of tension.
    â€˜What is it?’ he asked. ‘What happened?’
    â€˜Nothing.’
    â€˜No, something’s the matter. What is it?’
    â€˜No—no—I’m all right. I’d like to go to my room.’
    She got up and walked quickly away. Frowning, he followed her, hurrying until he caught up and could take a firm hold of her hand. She didn’t resist but neither did she respond, and he had a feeling that she had taken refuge in another world, from which he was excluded.
    He accompanied her as far as her door, noting that she still looked pale and tense.
    â€˜I’ll collect you in an hour,’ he said.
    â€˜I’ll be ready.’
    Once inside, she undressed and got into the shower. There was a kind of relief in being doused with water, as though it could wash away the shock that had overtaken her.
    The text on her mobile phone had been from Elroy Jenson:
    You won’t get away from me.
    He’s driving me crazy
, she told herself.
And that’s what he wants
.
    She wondered why she hadn’t told Mario what had troubled her. It should have been easy since she had already told him about Elroy, and he would have been a valuable ally. But something in her was reluctant to reveal more vulnerability. Especially to Mario.
    When she had showered she put on a neat dark blue dress, suitable for a polite gathering. For several minutes she teased her hair, trying to decide whether to be seductive or businesslike. As so often with Mario, her mind was filled with conflicting thoughts.
    Their conversation had been fraught with double meanings. He’d said,
I wanted to hurt you because I resented the way you’d just shown your power over me.
    But he’d implied the power of a bully, not of a woman. They had made a truce, but the battle was far from over.
    When he’d pressed her to say that she believed him now she had been unable to say what he wanted to hear. She longed to believe him, but she couldn’t quite make herself take the final step.
    But why should it matter whether I believe him or not?
she mused.
That’s all over. What matters is that we can manage to be friends.
    Nico was watching for their arrival at the Albergo Martinez and came to meet them with hands outstretched. Natasha recognised him from their meeting the first night.
    Over supper he described the tomb.
    â€˜Juliet was buried in the church of San Francesco al Corso, a monastery,’ he explained.
    â€˜Yes, it was Friar Laurence, a monk, who married them,’ Natasha recalled. ‘On their wedding day they went to his cell and he took them to the church to marry them.’
    â€˜True. And