Кэрол Мортимер

From New York With Love


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going to give her up without a fight, without thrashing things out…not this time. He’d already lost her once.

      And he would lose her again if he couldn’t face up to his demons and deal with them.

      “Great. See you tonight, mate.” Flashing a broad grin, Tom strode off.

      Simon had a satisfied smile on his lips and almost a skip in his step as he walked on. Dinner at the Gabrielli? What a stroke of luck. He would have to see if the hotel had a spare room. If they did, he’d retrieve his bag from the railway station and move in there. Annabel was still married to him and, new lover or not, baby or not, he was damned well going to win her back and convince her they could make it work. Somehow. He had nothing to lose.

      Hell, he’d lost enough already.

      Annabel came down to the dining room early, not wanting to keep Tessa and Tom waiting. But only Tom was there, at a table set for four. Four? Oh well, she hoped that whoever else they’d invited would keep the conversation rolling, because she didn’t feel like being the life of the party herself. She was weary after sightseeing all day and emotionally drained after bumping into Simon.

      “Annabel! Glad you could join us. Tessa’s just feeding the baby. She’ll be down in a minute.” Tom settled her into a chair. “We owe you for what you did for Tessa this afternoon. She’s bankrupted me, but hey, she tried on her new dress for me and she looked a dream. She’ll knock everyone’s eyes out tomorrow night.”

      He chatted on easily until Tessa arrived, carrying a portable crib. “Gracie’s been well fed and is fast asleep already,” she said, slipping into the chair beside her husband and placing the baby capsule on the floor beside her. “Now we should be able to have dinner without being disturbed.”

      “Ah, and here’s Simon,” said Tom, raising his arm.

      Annabel glanced round, expecting to see a fellow delegate of Tom’s from his orthopedics conference. She froze, her eyes flaring in shocked dismay. The last person she’d expected to see was Simon Pacino! How did Tom know him?

      As Simon’s gaze flicked to hers, she saw her own shock mirrored in the blue of his eyes—only maybe without the same dismay. More surprise, bemusement, than dismay.

      “You already know each other?” Tom eyed them uncertainly—maybe because of their obvious shock and the fact that neither was smiling.

      “We met earlier today, in St. Mark’s Square,” came Annabel’s quick reply. “By accident.”

      “We knew each other back in Australia,” Simon said deliberately. “Only we lost touch. She’s living in London now.”

      Annabel tensed, willing him not to say more. He didn’t…for the time being, at least.

      “Well…old friends. That’s great.” Tom, sensing some tension, didn’t push it. “This is my wife Tessa,” he said, resting a hand on his wife’s shoulder.

      Simon, summoning his familiar lopsided smile for the first time—a smile that twisted Annabel’s heart, making her wonder if he’d ever again smile like that for her—skirted the table to shake Tessa’s hand. “And this must be…your new baby,” he said when he saw the baby beside her.

      Annabel held her breath. Had Simon recognized the baby from this afternoon? Fast asleep and bundled up in different blankets, with only her tiny face visible, would he be able to tell?

      “Our baby daughter Gracie,” Tom said proudly from behind. “Take a seat, Simon. Here, between the two ladies.”

      As the men settled into their places, Annabel gulped in some much needed breaths of air. Was Simon wondering where her baby was? And where her so-called lover was? Any minute now, she expected him to ask if her baby’s father would be joining them—or if he was remaining upstairs to babysit while she was down here socializing! Husbands and wives often did cooperate that way. Wistfully, she recalled the evenings when she’d had a legal function or dinner meeting to attend and Simon had babysat Lily. Or the evenings when she’d minded Lily while he was operating throughout the night. Busy as they’d both been, mutual give-and-take had made their marriage work.

      A marriage without a lasting, solid base…as time had shown.

      Oh, this was a nightmare! How was she going to survive dinner, making polite conversation with an estranged husband who thought she was tied up with another man and already had a new baby? An unplanned baby…

      History repeating itself, he must be thinking, and hating her for it. But then, he hated her already. In their last painful weeks together, even on the few occasions they’d had sex, there’d been no comforting words of love, no whispers of forgiveness or understanding, none of the old intimacy they’d once shared. Not since he’d lost his precious Lily. Her precious Lily, too…

      “Well, this is amazing,” Tom said, rather too jovially. “Fancy all of us meeting up here in Venice, after all this time! Simon and I studied medicine together, you know. We were at Melbourne Uni together, and haven’t seen each other since. We both have lots to catch up on. But first, tell us about yourself, Annabel. What brings you to Venice?”

      The last thing she wanted was for the focus to be on her. Luckily, the arrival of a drink waiter gave her a moment’s reprieve, a chance to put her chaotic thoughts in some sort of order. As they ordered drinks, she could feel Simon’s eyes boring into her face, sense him waiting for her answer.

      “Okay, Annabel,” said Tom, after they’d raised their glasses and sipped dutifully. “You have the floor.”

      She managed a smile, urging herself to keep her answer light and brief. “I’ve had time off work with pneumonia,” she said. “I’m better now, but my law firm refused to let me come back until I took a short break away from London. The weather’s been really foul there lately.” She shrugged. “That’s about it. The minute I heard it was sunny and warm in Venice, I headed here.”

      Maybe she’d been searching for something more than just sun and warmth. Redemption, maybe. Peace. Hoping that the memories of her first visit to Venice, when she and Simon had met and had such a blissful time together, might have given some balm to her soul, reminding her that they’d been happy together…once. She needed some happy memories…not only of their carefree romance in Venice, but happy memories of their daughter, too…memories of the short, beautiful time they’d had her. Memories to cherish.

      So much for finding peace or salvation in sunny Venice! Simon’s unexpected arrival and the hostile confrontation that had followed had shattered any soothing calm she might have found here. Stung by his bitter attack on her, she’d let him believe his ready assumption that she’d found another man…that she’d had another man’s baby, for heaven’s sake. As if they didn’t have enough real issues to deal with!

      “You didn’t bring your baby with you, Annabel?” Simon asked her, his gaze pinning hers so that she could catch the ominous glint in his eye.

      Her heart dipped. He wanted to confront her now, in front of Tessa and Tom? He’d be asking her about her phantom lover next! If they’d been alone, she might have been tempted to string out the elaborate fiction a bit longer, as a self-protective mechanism, but with witnesses here, she knew she would have to come clean.

      “Baby?” Tessa looked at her in confusion.

      Annabel sighed, resigned to the inevitable, but needing to take another quick breath before answering. She didn’t want to talk about babies, fictitious or otherwise. It might lead to painful revelations about her own lost baby. Our baby, she corrected herself, sliding another veiled glance at Simon. He wouldn’t say anything about their daughter if she didn’t.

      “The baby you saw me with this afternoon was Tessa’s.” Her voice caught a little, as it always did when she had to say the word baby. “I was minding Gracie while Tessa did some shopping.” She waved a hand in the direction of the sleeping baby in the capsule on the floor. “Didn’t you recognize her?” she asked, trying to make light of it, even managing a