The Italian’s Miracle Family

still tempt her when things became painful.

‘I’m being sensible. You have to leave, I have to leave,’ she said. ‘Would you rather I threw a hissy fit and begged you to put me first and your little girl second? That would be selfish and disgusting, and you know it.’

He groaned, running his hand through his hair.

‘Yes, it would. But it worries me when you talk of being sensible. It’s dangerous.’

‘It’s my natural state,’ she said in a rallying tone.

‘In that case, let’s be sensible, and get ready to leave early tomorrow,’ he said, scowling.

‘Fine. I’ll get packed.’

Suddenly she was glad to be leaving. The hope that had vibrated so thrillingly between them was dead, and there was no reason to stay.

Nothing was said, but they both knew they would sleep apart that night, and after their meal they retired to different rooms. Now she was in the same room where she’d slept when she’d first come here, listening for sounds coming from next door. But there was nothing, only silence, like the silence between them.

Next day he drove her to the airport.

How different this was from last time, she thought sadly. Then the atmosphere between them had been charged with hopes unfulfilled and hopes for the future that might yet be fulfilled. Their parting had been yearning and bittersweet. Now it was only resigned and slightly despairing.

At the barrier they paused and regarded each other.

‘I guess we only managed to get part-way down the road,’ he told her.

‘We asked for too much,’ she said sadly.

‘I don’t believe it was too much. I told you that I love you. That won’t change. When you’ve decided what you want, I’ll still be here.’

‘You’d better forget about me. My head’s too mixed up.’

‘And so is your heart,’ he said. ‘But when you’re ready to move on you’ll find me here, however long it takes. When you come back-No, don’t shake your head. You will come back.’

‘Because that’s what you’ve decided?’ she asked with a faint smile.

‘If you want to put it that way. I won’t take no for an answer. I’m a tyrant, remember? An awkward, overbearing lout who demands his own way in everything.’

Her eyes were suddenly misty as she reached out to touch his cheek. He might bad-mouth himself as much as he liked, this great, gentle man with the tender eyes and the fierce armour that kept slipping, leaving him defenceless. She knew the truth, and her heart broke because she couldn’t cast aside caution and throw herself into his arms for ever.

‘No, that’s not what you are,’ she said. ‘Tina was right.’

‘What did Tina say about me?’

‘Ask her. If you play your cards right, she might tell you.’

‘If you’re playing mind games with me,’ he said, ‘then we’re not finished.’

He held her eyes with his own.

‘I’ll see you,’ he said. ‘I don’t know when, but I will.’

Then he walked away.

Alysa landed in England at midday and behaved like a perfect, responsible businesswoman, going straight into work and conferring with her colleagues. After four hours she departed with an arm full of files and spent the evening on the phone to clients.

Finally, at one in the morning, she faced the thing she’d been avoiding, and unlocked the safe where she kept Carlotta’s letter.

She read it through once more, thinking of how it would destroy Drago’s illusions if he saw it, castigating herself as a fool who didn’t know where her own best interests lay.

Tell him, urged her common sense. It’ll hurt him for a while, but it’ll clear the way for you. You’ll have all his heart then, and perhaps that will conquer your fear and free you to turn to him.

But she knew she wasn’t going to do it. It wasn’t about common sense. It was about the love she felt even while she tried to deny it. It scared her that she’d come so close to telling him the forbidden secret.

She took out the letter from James that she’d also stolen, and read them both one last time. Then she tore them into little pieces, put a match to them and watched as they turned to ashes.

As the months passed she found herself doing again what she’d done before, throwing herself into the job to dull emotions that she didn’t want to have. But it was harder now. Then she hadn’t fully understood what she was doing. This time she knew exactly.

She’d survived once by murdering all feeling and functioning like an automaton, but Drago had destroyed that defence. Now her heart was alive again, and it yearned for him. He’d shown her a new way, and she’d rejected it.

But I can’t face it going wrong again, she mourned. Not just for me, but for him. This is my life now.

As the time passed into November, then December, the weather grew cold-not the bright, edgy cold of approaching Christmas, but a dreary chill. Decorations went up in the office; lists were made of clients who must be sent cards.

More as a personal gesture than anything, Alysa put a few modest decorations up in her home. It wasn’t the joyful display of the Christmas before last, when she’d been full of ill-fated happiness over James. But nor was it the bleak nothingness of last year, when she’d hurried past shop windows containing nativity scenes, eyes averted. She’d come to terms with what her life was turning into. Or so she told herself.

If she’d felt like weakening fate took a hand just then to stiffen her resolve, Brian chose that moment to tell her that her partnership was settled.

‘We’re going to make an occasion of it,’ he said. ‘Dinner at the Ritz, with everyone there-all the partners and their wives-just to welcome you. I’ll be your escort, so take tomorrow off to buy a new dress. Go on. I don’t want to see you in the office until you’ve bought something eye-catching.’

Next morning she got up early to head for the West End, but she soon realised that it was going to be one of those awkward days. As she was heading for the lift, she heard the phone begin to ring in her apartment, dashed back, dropped her keys and managed to get the front door open just as the ringing stopped.

She punched in the keys to find out where the call had come from, but there was nothing to tell her.

Which means it’s probably a foreign number, she thought. Drago?

It wasn’t wise to call him, but she found herself dialling his number. But all she got was the engaged signal. She held on, hoping it would stop. When it didn’t she hung up and dialled again. Still engaged.

Not Drago, then. Probably a wrong number.

But it happened again, just as she reached the front door. This time she ran back fast, but the ringing stopped just as she reached out her hand.

‘Well, you’re not Drago,’ she told the phone when she’d slammed it down. ‘He’d never dither like that. Now, I’m going.’

The streets were full of Christmas. Neon angels floated overhead, their lights flickering on and off even at this early hour. Music played, notices announced, ‘this way to Santa Claus’. Alysa entered one of London ’s exclusive department-stores and found herself almost caught up in the queue for Santa.

She could see him in the distance, sitting at the entrance to his grotto, talking earnestly with a little boy, apparently asking what he wanted for Christmas.

The impossible question, Alysa thought. Two years ago I’d have said that I already had everything I could want-James and our baby. Last year I’d have said I was all right then, that I’d put the past behind me, never dreaming that Drago lay in the future.

But what would I say now-that a few weeks ago I stood at a crossroads and made the wrong choice? That it’s too late to go back? That my future is now my past, and my heart aches for the love I wasn’t brave enough to fight for?

While she mused her feet took her to the entrance to the fashion department, and she forced herself back to