After the Storm (All I've Ever Needed) (4 page)

Yeah, right!
 
She wanted to snort in derision but instead asked politely, “How’s he feeling now?”

“Much better, thanks,” Stephano replied, giving her a secret wink that she didn’t acknowledge.
 
“They ran tests on him and finally released him this morning.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”
 
Their colleagues seemed to miss the sarcasm in her voice, but Stephano’s eyes narrowed as he took a seat behind his desk and looked across at her.

She ignored him, dipping her head and pretending to be engrossed in her work.

At lunch rather than go late with Stephano and two of their other colleagues as usual, she went early to a local wine bar with Morgan and grabbed a sandwich on her way back.

That evening, Morgan who usually left early had a project that was due the next morning.
 
He stayed late to finish it and at half past five the office was empty except for the three of them.
 
Several times Natalie saw Stephano glance in Morgan’s direction with ill-concealed annoyance.
 
Normally she would have been annoyed too; she’d always thought of this time of the day as their
special
time.
 
Just the thought of sitting close enough to see him, even if not touch him, had thrilled her.
 
Often when she had gone to the bathroom to ready herself for the journey home by Tube, she’d found herself wet with longing.

Not today, though!

Morgan finally shut down his computer, grabbed his coat and threw them a hasty goodbye, saying that he had a blind date with a hot new guy.

Natalie felt both exhilarated and apprehensive being alone with Stephano again.
 
Her heartbeat quickened and she wondered for a moment if she would have a heart attack as he quickly rounded his desk and stalked over to her.

“Natalia?”

It’s Natalie
, she wanted to scream at him.
 
The arrogance of the man thinking that he could come over and say her name with his sexy Italian voice in the same way he had called her ‘darling’.

“Yes,” she responded coolly, lifting her head and looking calmly into his eyes.

“Natalie?” he repeated.
 
This time he got it right she noted—the ice dripping from her voice must have chilled him.
 
He could have no idea how much money it had cost her in therapy and finally hypnosis to be able to call up her Ice Queen persona when she needed it.
 
“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be,” she responded innocently, widening her eyes in surprise at his question.
 
She held the puzzled look just long enough for effect and then gasped as though all thoughts of the events three evenings previous had completely slipped her mind, “Oh, you mean about Friday evening?”

Words, she had discovered far too late in her physically abusive relationship with Michael, can sometimes hurt more than blows to the body.
 
And worst than words, indifference.

“Stephano, it was fun,” she said airily as if sleeping with hunky work colleagues was something she did on a regular basis.
 
“But let’s not repeat it.”

He stood silently looking down at her for long moments, his jaw clenching and unclenching.
 
Her stomach fluttered nervously as she held his gaze, but strangely she didn’t feel fearful that he would resort to physical violence.
 
Finally he reached out and cupped her jaw, running his thumb along the surface for a few bone-melting seconds before bending his head and kissing her softly.

“If that’s your decision,
cara,
I respect it,” he whispered as he straightened.

Yes, that’s my decision!,
she wanted to scream at him.
 
I deserve more than to always play second fiddle to another woman.

Instead she nodded, knowing if she opened her mouth she would tell him that she was willing to share him.
 
Willing to once again become the secret lover she had been in Michael’s life because she’d been too tall, too dark, her hair too short to be seen on his arm.
 
All she had been good for was sex when he’d needed it and to be a punching bag when he needed to let some steam off.

Stephano nodded in return, then turned abruptly and walked back to his desk.

Natalie kept her head bent, willing the tears not to fall as she heard him shut down his computer and grab his coat.

“I didn’t get any sleep last night.
 
I need to go home and rest.”
 
His voice was husky and he sounded suddenly exhausted.
 
Even knowing that he’d worn himself out in another woman’s bed, she couldn’t stop her heart going out to him as he swayed slightly, looking about to collapse.

“Are you okay?”
 
She stood up, about to go to him, but he shook his head and visibly pulled himself together.

“I’ll be fine once I get some sleep.”
 
He walked quickly to the door, but turned when he got there to say, “Don’t stay too late,
cara.
”

“I won’t,” she promised, once she’d swallowed the lump that had formed at the sound of the endearment, but he had already slipped through the door.

Poking a finger through the same blinds through which she’d earlier witnessed his arrival, she created a narrow gap and watched as he hailed an oncoming taxi.
 
It was already occupied but in his tired state he’d probably not noticed that the yellow-for-hire sign had not been lit up.
 
He was luckier with the second taxi which came by less than a minute later.

He hesitated before entering, turning to look back at the building twice before finally getting into the back of the vehicle.
 
He’d never left her on her own in the building before.
 
Though he was clearly worn out, he seemed as worried about leaving her alone as he’d been about collapsing from tiredness.
 
There was little danger for her personal safety in the secure office, but her heart warmed at his concern as she stood gazing after the taxi long after it disappeared from view.

The tears she had been holding back all day ran silently down her face.

How could she live without the passion she’d had an exciting prelude to on Friday evening?

But how could she live with herself if she let him, or any man ever again, make her feel that she was only good enough to be a convenient booty call?

Five years had been a long time without being touched by a man; she couldn’t endure another five without being held.

Perhaps she wasn’t meant to have a love all of her own like other women.

She sighed as she finally turned away from the window and shut her computer down.
 
Michael had been like a storm, raging out of control, his fists striking like lightning.
 
She had survived him and come out stronger.
 
Surely she was strong enough now to handle a polygamous relationship if it was all Stephano had to offer her.
 
He was man enough for two women, she acknowledged with a shiver as she had a quick flashback of the way he’d filled her.
 
She’d thought Michael sufficiently equipped.
 
He’d been her first boyfriend so she’d had no basis for comparison, but now she wondered if along with his steroid abuse, he’d suffered from a feeling of inadequacy.
 
He wasn’t a tall man at 5’6”, and she’d had no problem being three inches taller, but yet he’d seemed to feel the need to dominate her with brute strength.

It would be different with Stephano she knew.
 
He would never leave her feeling like she was nothing, the way Michael had done in the last weeks of their relationship—forcing her down onto her knees to pleasure him, then cleaning himself off with a wash cloth and contemptuously discarding it onto her pristine bathroom floor before going home to the beautiful woman he was so proud of, the one who would never do anything as nasty as go down on him.

Sometimes the emptiness of Natalie’s
 
life gnawed at her until she felt like screaming.
 
Sharing Stephano with another woman wouldn’t be the perfect bliss she’d always longed for, but it would be better than what she had now…and a million times better than her nightmare relationship with Michael.

*****

And The Rain

Stephano punched his pillow, trying to mould it into a more comfortable position to finally get the sleep he desperately needed.
 
It was of no use.
 
It was his thoughts that were keeping him awake, not an uncomfortable pillow.
 
Though he was exhausted, he kept playing the day’s events over and over in his head, trying to think what could have transpired between Friday evening and today to make Natalie act the way she’d done.

Harry’s wedding had gone surprisingly smoothly.
 
Stephano had ensured that the groom was at the church on time, though the bride had then been fashionably late by almost an hour.
 
There had been several fine-looking women at the reception and ordinarily he would have been open for a night of adult fun with a woman who was looking for the same.
 
Instead he had behaved himself, anticipating his return to London and Natalie.

The bride’s youngest sister, Eva, had given him a lift back to London.
 
A secondary school teacher, she had only been granted a day’s annual leave by the school’s head teacher and had taken it before the wedding to help with late minute preparations.
 
They had arrived at his parents’ home to find his father lying on the sofa clutching his chest and his mother on the telephone so panicked she was talking to the emergency services operator in Italian and couldn’t make herself understood.

Eva had comforted his mother while he had quickly explained the situation and requested an ambulance.
 
It had been a night of worry.
 
He hadn’t known his father to be ill a day in his life except for having the occasional cold and twice the flu and seeing his mother upset and panicked had been hard for him.
 
His parents shared a love he doubted he would ever find.
 
It was impossible to think of one surviving without the other.
 
It had been such an enormous relief when the doctor had given his father a clean bill of health with just a warning to cut back on spicy foods.

Eva, two weeks older and his best friend literally from birth, had called for updates throughout the night.
 
Stephano had been grateful for her support.
 
She had then risked the head teacher’s wrath by turning up at the hospital at eight this morning to drive him and his parents home.
 
Though he had encouraged her to leave when they arrived at his parents’ house, she’d insisted on waiting until he’d showered and dressed to give him a lift to the office as it was on her way to school.
 
Her first class didn’t start until eleven, she’d argued.

Thankfully his father had seemed his usual self when Stephano had arrived home from the office and looked none the worse for his hospital trip, though he’d complained to Stephano about the bland food his wife had prepared specially for him.
 
She had reminded him that he had cleaned his plate.