The Temporary Mrs. Marchetti

‘He won’t,’ Alice said. ‘He’s stubborn like that.’

Meghan waggled her eyebrows. ‘Mmm, like someone else I know.’

Alice frowned. ‘Don’t you have work to do?’

Meghan gave her a ‘kicked puppy’ look. ‘I’m really sorry about you breaking up with Cristiano. But he’s had a lot going on in his life—his gran dying and this big new development. Maybe he needs a bit of time to think things over.’

‘Like another seven years?’

Meghan bit her lip. ‘He really is stubborn, isn’t he?’

Alice gave her a grim look. ‘He could open a mentoring academy for mules.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

CRISTIANO WAS PRESSING on with his London development on principle. He wasn’t the sort of man to walk away from a business deal because of personal issues. He kept work and his private life separate. Mostly. Although having to visit the Chelsea site with Alice’s beauty salon on the ground floor of the building he’d bought was like having molars pulled with bolt cutters. Confronting failure was something he assiduously avoided. Returning to the scene of the crime, so to speak, was anathema to him. He would prefer to be on the other side of the globe right now. Siberia. Outer Mongolia.

Anywhere but here.

Somehow the press had heard the engagement was off. He had refused to comment and apparently so had Alice as the articles were evidently from ‘reliable sources close to the couple’ whatever the hell that meant. But after a week of being chased to and from his hotel by the paparazzi, things had settled down.

Seven days of living without Alice. Not seeing her. Not touching her. Not making love to her.

Nothing.

A big yawning cavern of emptiness stretched out ahead of him. Just like the last time, only this time it was harder. Much harder. How had he done this before and for seven years? He’d convinced himself he’d done the right thing. Let her be free to live the life he couldn’t give her. But the thought of her getting on with her life without him was eating away at him. Gnawing on his nerves until he was all but twitching with restlessness.

Cristiano had to meet with the architect on site to discuss some of the plans he had for the refit of the building. But the whole time he was in the meeting his eyes kept drifting to the window in the hope of seeing Alice coming in or out of her salon.

He was surprised the architect didn’t notice, or maybe he did and was too polite to say anything. He’d noticed a wedding ring on the architect’s finger and noticed too the screensaver on the guy’s phone when he answered a call. It was a photo of his wife and young toddler and newborn baby. All the things Cristiano had convinced himself he didn’t want.

But he did want them.

The realisation was like a light being switched on, shining on all the dark lonely places in his heart. Illuminating the hopes and dreams he had stashed and hidden away out of fear.

Cristiano finished the meeting and was about to turn left away from Alice’s salon when he stopped mid-stride. This was ridiculous. What was he doing? Walking away a second time? Turning his back on the best thing that had ever happened to him? Who was he fooling?

He wasn’t in lust with Alice. He was in love. He had always been in love with her. That was why he was so damn terrified. That was why he’d rushed the proposal seven years ago. He’d been so worried he might lose her so he’d made her an offer he’d thought she wouldn’t be able to refuse.

But he’d got it all wrong. So horribly wrong.

He’d thought losing the shares and his nonna’s villa was the worst thing that could happen to him. But losing Alice was far worse. He couldn’t lose her. Not again.

He had to talk to her. He couldn’t let another day—another minute—pass without telling her he loved her and wanted the same things she wanted. Why had he left it a week? Seven days of miserable hell. No way was he leaving it a second longer.

He spun on his heel and went back the other way but he’d only taken two strides when he saw Meghan from Alice’s beauty salon trotting towards him.

‘Hi, Cristiano,’ she said. ‘Bad news about your breakup with Alice. But don’t worry. I’ve got it a

ll sorted. I’ve found her a new man. I’m setting up a blind date for her. He’s a friend of a friend and he’s so keen on having kids he’s already got cupboards full of toys. Isn’t that sweet?’

Cristiano felt as if he’d been slammed across the head with a plank. ‘A blind date?’

‘Yup.’ Meghan’s eyes twinkled. ‘It worked a treat for one of our clients. They’re getting married this weekend. Jennifer and Marcus. Alice is doing Jennifer’s make-up for it.’

Cristiano had trouble speaking past the knot of despair stuck in his throat. ‘She can’t do that.’

‘What?’ Meghan’s expression was guileless as a child. ‘Do Jennifer’s make-up? Don’t be silly. That’s her specialty!’