Kitabı oku: «From Paris With Love Collection», sayfa 44

CHAPTER THREE

OH…NO.

As if she could cope with her day getting even worse!

Of all the people to discover her at her lowest point in so many years, it had to be Nico Moretti.

Charlotte did her utmost to stem the tide of her tears. She turned her back on Nico and leant on the balustrade of the balcony, gripping the roughened concrete so hard she could feel tendrils of pain in her fingers that flickered into her arms. She fixed her gaze on the canal beneath and blinked again and again, trying to clear the wetness that didn’t want to stop. Why couldn’t it go back where it had come from, instead of continuing to roll down her face in these humiliating tears?

He didn’t say anything. He just came to stand beside her. He, too, seemed to be gazing at the view and he spread his hands on the balustrade as if the only reason he was there was to admire their surroundings.

Charlotte’s panic ebbed a little as he just stood there, a silent presence.

She’d never had company during the most unhappy periods in her life. Her first instinct, even as a young child so bereft at the loss of her parents, had been to hide. To cry alone. And feel alone. To accept that life was a terribly lonely business and you just had to deal with that.

There was comfort to be found in simply being close to another person. To feel the presence of another living, breathing human.

The fact that Nico wasn’t saying anything made it easy to accept his presence. She didn’t have to try and find excuses or explain anything, and to have someone there who was clearly prepared to accept the state she was in made it feel as if it was okay not to be coping. As if she had support.

Strong support. Bit by bit, Charlotte found her thoughts creeping out from the dark knot in her head. She was aware of how big Nico was. Well over six feet in height and broad with it. His hands against the ancient concrete looked huge and powerful but his fingers were long and artistic looking. Clever hands, no doubt capable of performing the careful, intricate movements that were needed when you were dealing with something as precious as brain tissue.

Charlotte blinked again and, amazingly, her vision wasn’t blurred any more. Without raising her head from its bowed position, she could study his neatly trimmed nails and olive-brown skin and the smattering of dark hair on the backs of his hands that disappeared under the turned-back cuffs of his white shirt.

Her head turned, as if her gaze was being pulled up by an external force. Up his arms, across his chest, where a loosened tie hung like a necklace and the top buttons of his shirt were undone. It was impossible not to flick her gaze up to his face now, but it was safe. He was still staring down at the canal so Charlotte let her gaze linger for a moment on the strong profile. Unfairly luxurious eyelashes that brushed his cheeks when he blinked. A nose that made no apology for the space it took and deep creases on each side that ran down to meet a mouth that looked as if it smiled often and easily.

A jaw that looked like it hadn’t seen a razor in a fair few hours. And a firmness to it that suggested tension. Was he gritting his teeth? Was he standing there not knowing what to say? Wishing he was somewhere else?

‘I’m sorry.’ The words came out as a whisper. ‘I’ve had…It’s been…’ she had to take a tiny gulp of air ‘…a weird kind of day.’

‘I understand.’ Nico moved finally, but only his head. He angled it a little towards Charlotte. And then he smiled at her.

And…dear Lord…what a smile. Slow and so full of warmth. The most genuine smile she had ever seen. And it was for her. She had to catch her breath again.

‘And I have a horrible feeling I might have contributed to your day not being the one you hoped for,’ Nico continued. ‘I really must apologise again.’

His voice was as warm as that smile. The Irish lilt was unmistakeable but, if he had been in Ireland, they would hear something else. An Italian inflection that made it unique. An astonishing accent colouring a depth that was as masculine as his size and aura of power.

How many women had fallen in love with that voice already?

Not that she was about to join the ranks. Charlotte cleared her throat.

‘No…really. Losing my laptop was nothing compared to…’ Oh, help. Had she really been about to break one of her most ironclad rules and share personal information with a professional colleague?

‘Compared to what, cara?’

It was the endearment that did her in. An endearment in a foreign language that somehow made it inoffensive and genuinely caring.

‘My…grandmother is here. She’s not well and…and it’s possible she might not have…’ Charlotte’s intake of breath was a small sob. ‘Might not have much time left.’

‘Ohhh…’ The sound was a drawn-out note of understanding. Empathy.

This man was a stranger even if they had met before. She would probably never see him again after today. So it didn’t really count as sharing personal information, did it? Nobody would be giving her meaningful glances at work or gossiping about her in the cafeteria at St Margaret’s. As if it would help with the anonymity, Charlotte fixed her gaze on the canal again. She could be simply talking aloud to herself.

‘She’s the most important person in the world to me,’ she said softly. ‘My parents both got killed in a horrible accident when I was eight years old. I was in the accident too and came out as a terrified shell of a child who wouldn’t even speak to anyone for months. Gran never cared how tough it got, she was always so patient and so loving. So proud of any achievements I managed.’

‘She would have had a lot to be proud of.’

Charlotte’s breath came out in a huff of incredulity as she twisted sharply to glare at Nico. He was so used to giving women compliments, wasn’t he? Meaningless compliments that demeaned what she was trying to tell him about her wonderful grandmother.

‘What makes you think you know anything about me?’ The words came out tight and accusing. And then Charlotte shook her head and swallowed fresh tears. ‘You know nothing.’

There was a flash in his eyes but, while he might be startled by the verbal attack, he didn’t look away.

‘I know that a few years ago I met a woman who would have made anybody who loved her immensely proud,’ he said calmly. ‘But you’re correct…I know nothing about you on a personal level.’

His gaze still held hers and there was something else in his eyes now. Respect? Curiosity?

‘So tell me,’ he invited. And then he smiled again. ‘I’m listening.’

She was about to walk away.

Nico could sense the internal struggle but, dammit, he wanted to hear more. He knew perfectly well he was taking advantage of finding Charlotte in a state that made her vulnerable but he wasn’t about to use the situation to his own advantage. Quite the opposite! His only motivation for coming out to this balcony and interrupting an obviously private moment had been to offer assistance.

He owed her that, surely?

Even though she had dismissed any contribution he’d made to her having such a bad day, he knew he hadn’t helped it get off to a good start. And it was frustrating not to be able to think of a way to make up for that. Nico Moretti was an expert in making other people’s lives better, even in the most dire of circumstances. He firmly believed that you could find at least a little patch of joy anywhere if you didn’t take life too seriously.

Maybe that was why he knew he had the reputation of being a playboy. But play was the key, wasn’t it? Like when he took the time to actually play with one of his smaller patients or do something silly enough to make them smile. And…good grief…he’d never encountered a woman who couldn’t accept a compliment, even if it had been an automatic and possibly less than genuine response.

Nico had a strong sense that anything Charlotte told him would be completely honest, no matter how badly it reflected on herself. In his experience, this was an unusual trait, particularly for a woman on first acquaintance.

What really surprised him, however, was how much he wanted to hear more about her. His curiosity about Charlotte Highton was increasing rapidly. He remembered the brilliant young doctor. He’d seen the icy-cool clinician in action. He’d seen a speaker not only cope with facing an international audience having been deprived of her resources but engage them to the point where she’d had them in the palm of her hand.

And now he’d seen a glimpse of a loving granddaughter. Beneath all the layers he could detect there was an orphan who’d been a desperately unhappy child. A woman who currently looked alone. And lonely.

Just who was the real Charlotte?

He tried to send a silent message with his smile. And his eyes.

Talk to me. Please. You never know, I might be able to help. I’m good at helping.

It wasn’t working, though. It was as though he was trying to hold a wild creature in his hands and it was struggling to be free. An injured wild creature that wanted to crawl away and lick its wounds somewhere it felt safe.

He needed something more to keep her here. He needed to tap into something that would give them a bond, however tenuous.

‘I’ve met many people at many conferences over the years,’ he told her. ‘They are often accompanied by their husbands or wives. Or their lovers. Sometimes by their children. You are the very first I’ve met who is accompanied by a grandparent. That’s…intriguing. Special.’

He watched Charlotte take a ragged breath. He heard her sniff and had to hide a smile because it sounded so…unprofessional. Childlike, even. It wasn’t as if he’d never witnessed a grown woman crying, of course. They usually did, when he told them things were over, but this was different. The tears had nothing to do with him and they touched a spot in his heart usually reserved for those younger patients or their families. Something poignant.

‘Gran is special,’ Charlotte said, her words a whisper. Then she cleared her throat. ‘But she doesn’t usually accompany me. In fact, I’m not allowed to talk about anything remotely gruesome or medical when I’m around her. She says that you can always find something uplifting to talk about if you try hard enough.’

‘A woman after my own heart,’ Nico smiled. ‘A finder of joy who can make people around her feel better.’

He let out a quiet breath as he sensed Charlotte relaxing. He knew she was almost smiling herself because he was watching so carefully and he could see the softening of her lips. The imperceptible curling at their corners.

‘She always has something to look forward to. A new adventure planned. That’s why she’s here. As soon as she knew I was going to be speaking in Venice she looked up the timetable for the Orient Express going from Venice back to London and when the dates were perfect she said it was meant to be and I couldn’t say no because it was well up the bucket list.’

‘The bucket list?’

‘You know…’ Charlotte really smiled this time, as she looked up and caught his gaze. ‘The list of things you really, really want to do before you kick the bucket?’

‘Kick the…? Oh…’ Just occasionally, the fact that English was a second language tripped him up. ‘Sì…’ The Italian word slipped out unconsciously as he contemplated the euphemism for dying. ‘I understand.’

Her eyes were grey. A dark, stormy sort of grey at the moment. He always expected blonde women to have blue eyes so the colour struck him as different. As unusual as this woman was herself, perhaps?

‘But it’s a crazy idea. How can we take a slow train trip across Europe when she’s so sick? We should fly back to London tonight. I could have her in a hospital by tomorrow, getting the kind of investigations she needs to plan treatment.’

‘Is that what she wants? Your grandmother?’ It was a relief to be given a problem to solve at last and Nico was more than ready to focus on it, but he needed more information. ‘What is her name?’

‘Geraldine. Her friends call her Jendi.’

‘And what are the symptoms of her illness?’

‘I don’t really know. She’s kept this from me. I wouldn’t have known about it at all yet except I found her resting and could see she had abdominal pain. And…I could feel a mass…’

‘She has medication for the pain?’

‘Yes. She seems fine now. She totally refused to consider cancelling the train trip and getting a flight to London. She told me to go away so she could have a bath in peace and get ready for the dinner tonight. She wants to dress up.’

‘If there are no obvious signs that it would be detrimental to her condition, then maybe that’s exactly what she should do.’

Charlotte’s jaw dropped. ‘And the train trip? You think that’s a good idea, too?’

‘Another day or two will not make any difference to the course of her illness,’ Nico said. ‘And look at it from her point of view. What would be better? To be lying in a hospital bed waiting for possibly a painful procedure or being able to forget about what lies ahead for a brief time and enjoying a wonderful experience in the company of someone you love?’

‘But…’ Charlotte caught her bottom lip between her teeth and tugged on it. It was another childish gesture that caught Nico in that soft spot in his heart. But then she let go with her teeth and soothed her lip with her tongue and suddenly it was quite another, very unexpected spot that Nico could feel waking up. ‘How could I forget enough to help her enjoy it?’

‘Because you have that kind of strength.’ This time the compliment was completely sincere. Nico already knew enough about Charlotte to be convinced of it. ‘You can choose the part of you that you want other people to see and the rest you can keep hidden.’

Something very odd flickered across Charlotte’s face. The kind of expression that suggested…guilt? As though she’d been caught out trying to hide something huge and important?

No. The expression was gone as fast as it had appeared. And now Charlotte was turning away. Nico wasn’t ready to let her go. Not just yet.

‘I think you should make the most of any time you can have together. Be proud that you can help her achieve this bucket-list thing. Maybe you can find out what the other things on her list are too and tick another one off soon.’

A rueful laugh escaped Charlotte. ‘Oh, I know what’s on the top of that list and it’s not something that’s ever going to be ticked off.’

‘Oh?’ Nico tilted his head encouragingly. ‘They say that nothing is impossible.’

‘This is.’ Charlotte was looking up at the sky now. Assessing the clouds to see if the forecasted snow might arrive or was she seeking divine inspiration? She flicked Nico the briefest glance. ‘Gran’s greatest wish is to see me get married. Settled down and ready to present her with her first great-grandchild.’

‘Ohhh…’ Nico nodded slowly. ‘That could be tricky.’

‘Impossible.’ The word was final.

‘Hmm.’ He had solved the problem of the train trip. Surely there was a way of at least getting around this one? ‘Would there be any harm in letting her think it might be possible?’

‘Gran’s not stupid. She knows perfectly well that I’m not in a relationship. I haven’t been for years. I’m hardly likely to get away with pretending I’ve met “Mr Right” within the next few months, am I?’ She took a step away from him, raising her hand to smooth her already perfect hairstyle. ‘And I really can’t believe I’m having such an astonishingly ridiculous conversation.’

Nico had been distracted for a split second, wondering again what Charlotte’s hair would look like if it wasn’t so tightly coiled and clipped into place. He wanted to pull out some of those pins. To force her to loosen up a little.

‘Because it’s not so ridiculous,’ he said. ‘What if you attended this dinner tonight with…with your new boyfriend? How happy would that make your grandmother?’

This time it was real laughter that escaped. A delicious, totally unexpected chuckle of real mirth. ‘Is there a “hire a boyfriend” agency in Venice that you know about?’

‘There’s no need to hire anybody.’ Nico’s grin stretched his mouth. ‘It’s the least I could do to make up for this morning’s unfortunate happenstance.’

It was perfect. Here it was on a plate. The opportunity to not only make up for contributing to any distress caused by this morning’s incident but to do it in a manner that would be fun.

Except that Charlotte was looking at him as if he was totally crazy.

This was surreal.

Just having a personal conversation with a professional acquaintance would have been weird enough but this incredibly good-looking stranger seemed to be offering to pretend to be her boyfriend for an evening.

Imagine that!

Unfortunately, Charlotte could imagine it. She could imagine herself introducing him to her grandmother as a…as a friend…and Nico turning on his most charming smile and Gran putting two and two together and letting wishful thinking make the impossible a reality.

Oh…God…how happy would she be?

The distraction of a train trip to take her mind off what was coming was nothing compared to the joy she would have if she thought Charlotte had finally found ‘the one’.

It was crazy. Wasn’t it?

‘That’s crazy,’ she said aloud, hoping the spoken words would confirm it.

‘It’s only for an evening.’ Nico shrugged as if it was no big deal. ‘We could tell her we’ve met before, which is perfectly true. We could say that there’s something about Venice being such a romantic city and we’ve realised we can’t fight the attraction any longer. It was meant to be.’

Oh…my…If the look he was giving her right now was any indication of the performance he could put on for her grandmother, she would be totally convinced.

For a skipped heartbeat kind of moment, Charlotte almost believed it herself. She could feel it right down to her bones. How could anyone be so good at looking as if they had just fallen madly in love with someone? It was doing very strange things to something deep inside her. A process that had to be stopped immediately.

He’s acting, she reminded herself. And he’s only this good at it because he’s clearly had a lot of practice.

‘You may be an expert in pretending,’ she snapped, ‘but it’s not something I could carry off. I wouldn’t even want to try.’

He was still giving her that look.

‘I watched you this morning,’ he said softly. ‘I think you can carry off anything that’s important enough to you.’

There was a glint of mischief in those dark eyes. Good heavens, he was actually enjoying this, wasn’t he? He wanted to do it?

‘You might be surprised at how easy it is,’ he continued. ‘You might enjoy it.’

Charlotte snorted. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘And wouldn’t you even want to try? For your grandmother’s sake?’

‘No. It would be completely dishonest.’

‘Completely?’ Nico injected a hurt tone into the word. ‘Could you not summon even a tiny bit of attraction to me to work with?’

He tilted his head, moving it closer to her own, his gaze dropping from her eyes to her lips.

And, heaven help her, but Charlotte could actually feel a curl of desire unfolding deep in her belly. It escaped from that place that was locked away. A place she could never enter because, if she did, she would have to remember…Have to face up to what was so wrong with her…

‘No.’ The word came out like the slamming of a door. It was time to get away from there.

Away from this man who was making her think about ridiculous things.

Feel things she had no desire to feel.

‘At least think about it.’ His words followed her as she almost ran to get off the balcony. ‘I’ll see you at dinner.’