The problem was that Alessandro Lombardi was a very attractive man. The mere thought of sharing a living space with him was breathtakingly intimate and already her pulse raced at the thought. She knew enough about herself to know she had a soft heart. She’d end up too involved, too invested in the Lombardis, and she wasn’t stupid enough to get herself embroiled in that kind of scenario again.
‘Ah,’ he said as she averted her eyes from him. ‘You worry about what people will think? You have my word I have no ulterior motive. I have no…’ He searched for the right word, looking her up and down with complete dispassion. ‘Agenda. Your virtue is safe with me.’
Nat felt about as attractive as a bug at his cursory once-over. One of the really ugly ones. It wasn’t something she was used to. ‘Gossip doesn’t bother me.’
‘Then what?’
She stared at him exasperated. The man was obviously not used to hearing no. ‘I don’t have to justify myself to you,Alessandro,’ she said testily, wishing she had any other reason for turning him down other than his irresistible sex appeal.
Unfortunately, she had nothing.
Placing her packaging back on her tray, she rose. ‘I’m sure you’re quite unused to hearing the wordno. I’m sure you just snap your fingers and women fall all over themselves to do your bidding. But I’m not one of them. The answer is no. Just plain no. No equivocations, no justifications. Just no. Get used to it.’
She turned to leave but he reached across and grabbed her arm. ‘Wait. I’m sorry, Nathalie.’ Contrition coloured his voice. ‘I didn’t mean to be so…’
Nat shivered. She didn’t know if it was from his touch or the way her name sighed from his lips like a caress. She turned back. He seemed so perplexed and her anger dissipated as quickly as it had risen. ‘Italian?’
Alessandro smiled and dropped his hand. ‘You have knowledge of Italian men.’
‘I lived in Milano for a year. A long time ago now.’
‘There was a man there?’
Nat gave a wistful smile. She’d lost her virginity in Italy. She’d been eighteen and hopelessly enamoured. ‘A boy. It didn’t last long. I was a little too… independent for him.’
He nodded. ‘So, you know we’re not very good at asking for things.’
A shard of a memory made her smile broader. ‘I don’t know, I seemed to remember he was very good at asking for some things.’ It had been a heady few months.
He didn’t return her smile; if anything, his mouth thinned a little. ‘I meant help. Italian men like to be… men. Yes?’
‘Yes.’ That she did know.
‘I need help with Julian. We are not… close. Since his mother died… it’s been difficult. He doesn’t let me in… He’s very unhappy.’
Nat swallowed at the raw ache in his voice. It clawed at her soft spot. ‘His mother just died, Alessandro. He’s grieving, just like you. He’s allowed to be unhappy. There would be something wrong if he wasn’t. He just needs time.’
She watched as his eyes shut briefly, shuttering his thoughts, his emotions. When he opened them again there was a rawness she’d not seen before. ‘I can’t bear to see him like this. He likes you. He smiles, laughs when he’s around you. I miss hearing him laugh. It’s like you have magical powers.’
Nat almost laughed out loud at that. If she had magical powers she sure as hell would have used them shamelessly to her advantage years ago. Made her father love her more. Made Rob love her more. Made them stay.
Alas, she was just an ordinary person who knew how to speak kid.
But Alessandro’s entreaty spoke to her as did the deep black wells of despair in his eyes, trapping her in their emotional quagmire. Maybe she’d judged him too harshly. At least he seemed willing to try, willing to reach out to Julian.
‘Please, Nathalie. If you don’t feel you can for you, please do it for Julian.’
His plea was so heartfelt it oozed past every defence she had. She stood staring hopelessly at him, like a rabbit caught in headlights. Knowing she should run away but powerless to do so.
‘He needs a woman’s touch, Nat. A mother.’
If Alessandro thought those words would help, he was wrong. They stuck in her tightened throat, dragging her out of the compassionate quicksand into which she’d been sucked. A mother? She shook her head. He was wrong. Children needed their fathers too. Without that connection they grew up only half the person they could be.
Always wondering. Always yearning.
Damn it – she’d known them for a fortnight. She didn’t owe this man anything. Or his little boy. They weren’t her responsibility. He wanted to take the easy way out? Use her so he could remain emotionally distant? So, he didn’t have to try?
A substitutemother.
