Читать книгу Alessandro and the Cheery Nanny - Amy Andrews - Страница 6

TWO weeks later Brisbane was in the throes of an unremitting heatwave. The power grid couldn’t keep up with consumer demand for ceiling fans and 24-hour-a-day air-conditioning. Tempers were short. Road rage, heat stroke and dehydration were rampant.

Even in a city that regularly sweltered each summer, the temperatures were extreme. But this was spring and totally ironic when the other side of the world battled the looming pandemic of a horrible new strain of influenza and unseasonal snow was causing general havoc.

Nat actually looked forward to stepping through the doors of St Auburn’s and being enveloped in a cool blast of air. Anywhere was better than her hot little box the real estate agent euphemistically called a townhouse in a breezeless suburb blistering beneath the sun’s relentless rays.

Not that it would matter soon, seeing that it looked like she was going to be evicted by the end of the month.

Nat stepped into the crowded lift on the eighth floor, pondering this conundrum yet again. She’d just transferred another heat-stroke victim to the medical ward and was returning to the department. She squeezed in and, noting the ground-floor button had already been pushed, let her mind wander to the phone call she was expecting from the realtor any time now. She would find out today whether she could get an extension on her lease.

It wasn’t until the lift emptied out over the next few floors and she had some more room to move that she was even aware of her fellow travellers. Two more people got out at the fourth floor and she was suddenly aware of there being only one other person left. Big and looming behind her. A strange sixth sense, or possibly foreboding, settled around her and she glanced quickly over her shoulder.

Alessandro Lombardi stared back at her, one dark eyebrow quirked sardonically. Hell. She had only seen him very briefly and at a distance in the last couple of weeks since she’d basically accused him of being a terrible father. He was wearing a pale lemon shirt and a classy orange tie. A stethoscope was slung casually around his neck.

In short he was looking damn fine and her hormones roared to life.

She turned back to the panel, pressing ‘G’ several times as the door slowly shut, her heart beating double time.

A fleeting smile touched Alessandro’s mouth as he stared at her back, her blonde ponytail brushing her collar. It was the first time he’d been close to her since her outburst a little while ago. But he’d certainly heard her name frequently enough. Julian had spoken of little else. He’d heard it so often he’d started to dream about her.

He moved to stand beside her. ‘Good afternoon, Nat.’

Nat took a steadying breath. ‘Dr Lombardi,’ she said, refusing to turn and face him. She jabbed at the ‘G’ several more times—why was this lift so damn slow?

‘Be careful. You’ll break it.’

She could detect a faint trace of amusement in his voice but today with the heat and the eviction hanging over her head she really wasn’t in the mood. She hit it one more time for good measure.

Which was when the lift came to a grinding halt, causing her to stumble against him. She heard him mutter ‘Porca vacca’ as he was jostled towards her and she supposed, absently, a profanity was better than an I told you so.

His hand cupped her elbow and the lights flickered out. It was a few seconds before either of them moved or spoke. Alessandro recovered first.

‘Are you okay?’

His big hand was warm on her arm and for a second she even leaned into him, her pulse skipping madly in her chest as her body tried to figure out what was the bigger problem. Being stuck in a lift. Or being stuck in a lift with Alessandro Lombardi.

‘You know,’ she said, moving her elbow out of his grasp, ‘when they teach you a foreign language it’s always the swear words you learn first?’

Alessandro chuckled. ‘Guilty.’

His low laughter sounded strange coming from a man who had thus far looked incapable of anything remotely joyous. But it enveloped her in the darkness and made her feel curiously safe.

The lights flickered on, or at least one of them did, and Alessandro braced himself for the lift to power up and lurch to a start. When nothing happened he looked down at Nat, who was looking expectantly at the ceiling. He hadn’t realised they were standing so close.

Her flower-garden scent wafted towards him and when her gaze shifted from surveying the ceiling to meet his, the urge to move closer, to stroke his finger down her cheek, was a potent force.

He took a step back. His attraction to this woman was a complication he didn’t need. ‘I’ll ring and see what’s happened.’

Nat nodded absently, also backing up, pleased to feel the solidness of the wall behind her. For a moment there, maybe it had been the half-light, his eyes had darkened even further and she could have sworn he was going to touch her. In a good way.

She felt as if there wasn’t enough air suddenly and took some calming breaths. She wasn’t the hysterical type and now was not the time to become one.

Nat listened absently as Alessandro had a conversation with someone on the other end of the lift’s emergency phone. It was brief and from the tone it didn’t sound like they were getting out any time soon.

He hung up the phone and turned to her. ‘There’s a problem with the city grid. Something to do with the heat wave. The emergency power has kicked in but two lifts have failed to start. They’re working on it.’

Nat licked her lips, the thought of spending time with him in a confined space rather unsettling. Did he also feel the buzz between them or was it all one sided? ‘Did they have any idea how long it might take?’

‘No.’

‘Porca vacca,’ she muttered, figuring Alessandro’s instinctive expletive was as good as any. In either language.

Alessandro suppressed another chuckle. He could see her gaze darting around the lift and he wondered if she was trying to calculate carbon-dioxide build-up or was looking for an escape hatch. ‘You’re not claustrophobic, I hope?’

Nat shook her head. ‘No. I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed if you’re waiting for me to turn into a hysterical female.’

Was he disappointed? Certainly Camilla would have thrown her first tantrum by now, demanding to speak to someone in authority. He much preferred Nat’s calm resignation. ‘Good.’

Nat glanced at him briefly and quickly looked away. He loomed in the dim light and with each passing second he seemed to take up more room. ‘Well, no point in standing. Might as well get comfortable for the long haul.’

She sat then, cross-legged on the floor, her back pressed to the wall. She looked up at him looking down at her and was reminded of their first meeting when she’d had the bean-bag disadvantage. He was looking at her with that now familiar coolness in his eyes.

‘Sit down, for God’s sake,’ she grouched.

Alessandro frowned. Nat Davies was one bossy little package. He slid down the wall, planting his feet evenly in front of him, his knees bent. ‘Are you always this disagreeable?’

Nat, who was excruciatingly aware of his encroaching masculinity, shot him a startled look. She opened her mouth to protest. No, she wasn’t. Despite her father’s desertion and the recent ending of a long-term messy relationship that would have caused the most congenial woman to become a bitter hag, she was essentially a very agreeable person.

Perennially happy. Everyone said so. She almost told him so too. But then a quick review of the twice she’d spoken to him had her conceding that his comment was probably fair.

She raised her gaze from the very fascinating way his trousers pulled across his thigh muscles. ‘I owe you an apology. For the other day. After Ernie. I was out of line. It was none of my business.’

Alessandro was surprised by her admission. It was refreshing to be with a woman who could apologise. ‘You did overstep the line a little.’

Nat wanted to protest again, justify her reaction as being in Julian’s interests, but he was right. ‘I get too involved. I always have. The matron where I trained said I was a hopeless case.’

Alessandro smiled grudgingly. He removed his stethoscope and loosened his tie. It was already starting to get stuffy without the benefit of the air-conditioning. ‘There are worse human flaws.’

He knew that only too well.

Nat stared at how even a small lift to his beautiful mouth transformed his face. Combined with the now skew tie and the undone top button, revealing a tantalising glimpse of very male neck, he really was a sight to behold. She smiled back. ‘She didn’t think so.’

Alessandro straightened a leg, stretching it out in front of him. He shrugged, looking directly at her. ‘We’d just lost the battle to save a man’s life. Death affects everyone in different ways.’

The teasing light she’d glimpsed briefly snuffed out and he seemed bleak and serious again. An older version of Julian. She hesitated briefly before voicing the question that entered her head. But they had to talk about something. And maybe he was looking for an opening? ‘How long ago did your wife die?’

Alex felt the automatic tensing of the muscles in his neck. A fragment of a memory slipped out unbidden from the steel trap in his brain. Opening his door on the other side of the world to two grim-looking policemen. He drew his leg up again.

Nat watched him withdraw, startled by a twist of empathy deep inside.

Oh, no. No. No. No.

Alessandro Lombardi was a big boy. He didn’t need her empathy. It was bad enough that she was sexually attracted to him. He didn’t need her to comfort him and fix things too. His wife was dead—she couldn’t fix that. Only time could fix that.

‘I’m sorry. There I go again. None of my business.’

No. It wasn’t. But he was damned if he wasn’t opening his mouth to tell her anyway. ‘Nine months.’

Nat was surprised. Both that he had responded and by the nine months. She’d known it was recent but it was still confronting. No wonder they were both so raw. ‘I’m so very sorry,’ she murmured.

Alessandro watched as her gaze filled with pity, the blue of her irises turning soft and glassy in the gentle light. He couldn’t bear to see it. A sudden black fury streaked through him fast and hot like a lightning bolt from the deep well of self-hatred that bubbled never far from the surface. He didn’t deserve her pity. He wasn’t worthy of it. All he deserved was her contempt.

This was why he’d left England. To get far away from other people’s pity. Their well-meaning words and greeting-card platitudes. Knowing that he had driven her to her death, that he alone was responsible…the hypocrisy had eaten him up inside.

Looking into Julian’s face every day was more than he could stand. It was much easier not to.

He dropped his gaze. It took all of his willpower to drag himself back from the storm of broiling emotions squeezing his gut. ‘Nat,’ he said to the floor, before raising his face to meet hers, ‘is that short for something?’

There had been a moment, before he’d looked down, when she’d glimpsed a heart-breaking well of despair. But it was shuttered now, safely masked behind a gaze that could have been hewn from arctic tundra.

He was obviously still deeply in love with his wife. It was also obvious he wasn’t going to talk about it with her.

‘Natalie,’ she said, taking the not-so-subtle hint. ‘I was supposed to be a boy.’

‘Ah.’

‘Nathaniel. Nat for short.’

She told the story she knew off by heart, careful not to betray how inadequate it made her feel. How she’d never felt like she quite measured up because her father had wanted a boy. ‘My parents had kind of got used to thinking of me as Nat so they decided on Natalie.’

‘Nathalie.’ Alessandro rolled the Italian version round his tongue. ‘It’s pretty. Much prettier than Nat.’

It certainly was when he said it. His accent made a th pronunciation shading it with an exotic sound plain old Nat never had. Coming from his lips it sounded all grown up. No girl-next-door connotation. No one-size-fits-all, unisex, if-only-you’d-been-a-boy name.

In one breath he’d feminised it.

And right then, sitting on the floor in the gloom of a broken-down lift, she could see how women fell in love at first sight. Not that she was quite that stupid. Not any more. After Rob she knew better than to get involved with a man who was in love with another woman. Even a dead one.

But raw heat coated her insides and she squirmed against the floor to quell the sticky tentacles of desire.

‘I prefer Nat,’ she dismissed lightly, brushing at imaginary fluff on her skirt.

Alessandro dropped his eyes, watching the nervous gesture. It was preferable to the vulnerability he’d seen in her unmasked gaze.

‘Ah, yes, Nat. Nat, Nat, Nat. I hear that name so often at home these days I’m beginning to think you must have magical powers. I think you could give Harry Potter a run for his money.’

Nat, pleased to be off more personal subjects, laughed out loud. Right. If she had magical powers she sure as hell would have used them shamelessly to her advantage long before now. Made her father love her more. Made Rob love her more. Made them stay.

‘Julian talks about me?’

Despite not wanting to, Alessandro noticed the way her uniform pulled across her chest. The way the slide nestled in her cleavage. It had been such a long time since he’d noticed anything much about a woman at all but it was becoming a habit with this bossy, talkative Australian nurse.

He sent her a tight smile. ‘Nonstop.’

Nat grinned. ‘Sorry.’ But she really wasn’t. It made her happy to think she was making a difference to the serious little boy who came to the crèche. She knew she looked out for him on her days there and her heart melted faster than an ice-cube in this damn heat wave, when his sad little face lit up like a New Year’s Eve firework display the moment he spotted her.

Alessandro shrugged. ‘I’m pleased he…has someone.’ Even if hearing her name incessantly meant she was never far from his thoughts. Even if that transferred into the rare moments of sleep he managed to snatch during nights that seemed to last an eternity. Those few precious hours were suddenly full of her. Bizarre erotic snapshots the likes of which he hadn’t experienced since puberty.

Just another reason to despise himself a little bit more. Camilla hadn’t even been dead a year and he was fantasising about some…look-alike-but-not Australian bossy-boots, like a horny teenager.

‘He’s a great kid, Alessandro.’

Her voice had softened and he could tell she held genuine affection for Julian. He wished his own relationship with his son was as uncomplicated. When he looked at Julian he saw Camilla and his guilt ratcheted up another notch. ‘I know.’

And he did know. But he didn’t know how to reach a child who was a stranger to him. He didn’t know how to look at his son, love his son and pretend that he wasn’t the reason Julian’s world had been torn apart.

Perhaps if they’d been closer…

They looked at each other for a long moment, the air thick between them with things neither of them were game enough to say aloud. A phone ringing broke the compelling eye contact and it took a few seconds for Nat to realise it wasn’t the lift emergency phone but her mobile.

She pulled it out of her pocket. ‘Huh, look at that,’ she mused. ‘Good reception. Go figure.’ She looked at the number on the screen and gave an inward groan. Great timing.

It was difficult for Alessandro not to eavesdrop. It was impossible to even pretend he wasn’t. There was him and her in a tiny metal box, not much light and nothing else to do. He did try to feign disinterest, pulling his pager out and deleting the build-up of stored messages, but it was obvious she was having problems with her lease.

When Nat pushed the ‘end’ button on her phone with a grimace he said, ‘Problemo?’

Nat sighed and stuffed the phone back in her pocket. ‘You could say that.’

‘Sounds like you’re having trouble with your landlord.’

Nat gave a derisive snort. ‘That’s an understatement. I’ve been given two weeks to move out.’

Alessandro dropped both of his legs, stretching them out in front as he crossed his arms across his chest. ‘Let me guess. You have lots of loud parties and are behind on your rent?’

Nat, aware that his legs were a good deal closer now, flicked him a funny ha-ha look. The fact that he was even attempting humour wasn’t enough to lift her out of the doldrums.

Where the hell was she going to go? ‘The owners want to move back in.’

‘Can they do that?’

Nat shrugged. ‘The lease is up.’

‘Ah.’

She sighed. ‘Yes. Ah.’

‘Have you thought of buying? It’s a buyers’ market at the moment with the world economic situation and interest rates being at an all-time low. I bought my place in Paddington for a very good price.’

‘I have bought a place. A unit not far from St Auburn’s. I bought it off the plan. It was supposed to be finished two months ago but with all that winter rain we had it’s behind schedule.’

‘Ah.’

Nat’s legs were starting to cramp in her cross-legged position so she also stretched her legs out, her modest uniform riding up a little and revealing two very welldefined kneecaps and a hint of thigh. ‘I only took a sixmonth lease because the project manager assured me the project would be on time. Damn man is as slippery as an oily snake.’

Alessandro’s gaze dropped to the narrow strip of thigh visible between her knees and hemline before he realised what he was doing. He dragged his attention back to her frowning face. ‘Do you not have a man, a husband or boyfriend, who can deal with these things for you?’

If she hadn’t already been annoyed at the world—heat wave, broken lift, difficult landlord—Nat might have laughed at his typical Italian male assumptions. But unfortunately for Alessandro, she was.

‘I don’t need a man to deal with stuff for me,’ she said sharply.

Frankly she was sick of men. It was because of a bloody man she was in this pickle to start with. Eternal spinsterhood was looking like a damn fine alternative these days. Although the presence of a six-foot-nine Neanderthal next time she visited her half-complete unit did hold some appeal.

Alessandro held up his hands in surrender, not wanting to get into a debate about gender roles with her already looking like she was spoiling for a fight. Things were different these days, which was a good thing. And this wasn’t Italy. Besides, they might well need to preserve oxygen.

‘Have you not got family here you can stay with?’

She shook her head. ‘All my family live in Perth. In WesternAustralia. I’ve only been in Brisbane for six months.’

‘You are a long way from home, Nathalie.’

His voice was low and it slithered across the floor of the lift like a serpent, inching up her leg, under her skirt, gliding across her belly and undulating up her spine, stroking every hot spot in between. She was one giant goose-bump in three seconds flat.

The ease with which he accomplished it was shocking but she was damned if she was going to let her body do the talking. She raised an eyebrow, going for sardonic. ‘I’m a long way from home?’

He chuckled. Well deflected. ‘Touché.’ There were a few moments of silence as they both contemplated the floor. Alessandro had the feeling there was more to the Nat Davies story. He checked his watch. Ten minutes. How much longer?

It seemed stupid to sit in silence.

‘So why did you leave Perth? Was there a reason or did you have a crashing desire to see Queensland?’

Nat gave a nonchalant shrug. ‘I had a fancy to see the sun rise over the ocean.’

Alessandro smiled at her flippant reply. He was pretty sure it ran deeper than that. It took one damaged soul to recognise another. ‘I get the feeling there may have been a man involved?’

Nat contemplated another snappy quip but she’d never been able to pull flippant off for very long. ‘There was.’

‘What happened?’

Nat repeated her earlier eyebrow rise. ‘I think this is where I tell you it’s none of your business, isn’t it?’

Alessandro nodded his head, a small smile playing on his lips. ‘I do believe so, yes.’ He shrugged. ‘Just trying to pass the time.’

Nat regarded him for a few moments. Why did she feel so compelled to talk to him? One look at him and she lost her mind. She didn’t bother to point out they could pass it just as easily by talking about his stuff because frankly she was tired of listening to men talk about women who used to share their lives.

‘It became…untenable.’ She waited for the barb in her chest to twist again, like it always did when she thought about Rob and their crazy crowded relationship. Her, him and his ex-wife.

Curiously it didn’t.

Alessandro nodded. So they were both running away…

‘So I left. I didn’t plan to leave Perth but then I hadn’t planned on it being so hard to still move in the same circles.’

She glanced at him, wondering what he was thinking, wondering if he empathised. Was that why he’d moved to the other side of the world? To escape the memories that were there, waiting around every corner? ‘When the property settlement came through I just…left. Took my half and relocated.’

Alessandro nodded. ‘That took courage.’ He knew how hard it was to up sticks.

‘Yeah, well, it doesn’t seem so brave now, does it?’

Alessandro crossed one outstretched leg over the other at the ankles. ‘Do you have a plan B?’

‘The rental market in Brisbane is tight. I only need a couple of months but no one’s going to be keen to rent to me for such a short time.’

Alessandro nodded. He’d tried to get a short-term lease so he didn’t have to rush into buying but there’d been nothing available and he’d taken the plunge and bought instead.

‘I don’t really know anyone well enough to crash with them for long periods of time, apart from Paige who I went to school with in Perth. She works in Audiology and part time in the operating theatres at St Auburn’s. I stayed with her for a couple of weeks when I first arrived but her husband walked out over two years ago and she has a three-year-old with high needs. I can’t impose on them again.’ She shrugged. ‘The short answer is, I don’t know. But something will show up. It’ll work out, it always does.’

As soon as the words were out the lights flickered on in the lift and the air-conditioning whirred to life. Nat laughed. ‘See?’

Alessandro smiled, picking up his pager and stethoscope off the floor as the lift shuddered and began its descent. He vaulted to his feet and held out a hand to her. She hesitated for a fraction and then took it. He pulled her up, the lift settling on the ground floor as she rose to her feet, causing her to stumble a little.

Nat put her hand against his chest to steady herself, aware that his other arm had come around to help. She copped a lungful of something spicy and for a brief dizzying second she considered pushing her nose into the patch of neck his skew tie had revealed to see if she could discern the exact origin. His lips were close and his gaze seemed to be suddenly fixed on her mouth and all she could think about was kissing him.

His heart thudded directly below her palm and the vibrations travelled down her arm, rippling through every nerve ending in her body, energising every cell.

The lift dinged and saved her from totally losing her mind. ‘Oops, sorry,’ she said, pushing away from him, uncharacteristic colour creeping into her cheeks.

The doors opened and a small crowd of maintenance people as well as department staff were there to greet them, clapping and cheering.

Nat risked a quick glance at him, dismayed at the heat she saw in his eyes again. Her blush intensified. She hightailed it out of the lift without a backward glance.

Alessandro had not long been home with Julian early that evening when the doorbell rang. He opened it to a middleaged woman and ushered her in. Debbie Woodruff was the tenth applicant for live-in nanny he’d interviewed.

He had no intention of the crèche being a long-term solution for Julian. Yes, it was open 24 hours a day and Julian seemed to like it there, at least when Nat was on anyway, but he’d already been dragged halfway round the world. His son deserved stability. And that was one thing he could give him.

Debbie seemed very nice and was plainly well qualified. Julian was polite, as always, saying please and thank you as Camilla had taught him, eating carefully, playing quietly. But he wasn’t enthused. And Alessandro had to admit he wasn’t either.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted. Someone to love Julian, he guessed. Not for it just to be another job. A pay cheque. What his son needed was a mother.

His mother.

Guilt seized him as he saw Debbie out. The one thing Julian needed the most, and he couldn’t give it to him. It was his job. He was the father. He was supposed to provide for his son.

Alessandro entered the lounge room. Julian looked at him but didn’t smile or acknowledge him. He sat next to his son and wished he knew how to bridge the gap. Wished his father had been around to be a role model for him, instead of the distant provider. Wished he hadn’t let Camilla distance him from his own son.

He looked down at Julian, who was watching television. ‘Did you like her?’ he asked.

Julian turned and looked at his father. ‘She was okay.’

Hardly a glowing endorsement. ‘Have you liked any of them?’

Julian shrugged, looking at him with big, solemn eyes.

‘Who do you like?’ he asked in frustration.

‘Nat,’ Julian said, and turned back to the TV.

Of course.

Great. Nat, who couldn’t mind her own business. Nat, who spoke her mind. Nat of the lift. Nat of the zipper. Nat, who he’d dreamt about every night since they’d met.

Anyone but her.

Alessandro looked down at his son and sighed. Julian wanted Nat. And that was all that mattered.

Nat it was. That he could do.