Chapter 35


I didn't even think. I just grabbed the nearest overnight bag and stuffed it with whatever clothes I could find from the floor. Alessandro could keep these expensive dresses and gifts for his next wife. I was only taking what was already mine. I scrambled for my passport and my old Australian bank cards that I hadn't seen since landing in Rome, and slipped them, along with my phone, into a side pocket. I hoped the phone's 10% charge would last me the distance to the airport. Then sneaking out via the balcony, I evaded the staff and escaped through the garage using the key Roberto had made for me when I'd first arrived.

I hit the street running, tears streaking across my vision as I reached the main road and flagged a taxi. The driver didn't speak a word of English and considering my state of mind right then, the last thing I was capable of thinking up was clear directions in Italian. After what felt like forever and a day of weaving through Rome's peak hour traffic, the taxi regurgitated me onto a busy sidewalk. The driver promptly took my money and sped off without a backward glance, leaving me to face the sudden prospect that not only was this not the airport, but I also had no idea where this was. A quick glance up and down the street and it didn't take me long to notice that I was in one of the main tourist areas. To my right I spotted the Colosseum taking up the pride of place at the end of this narrow street. Great. So he'd assumed I was a tourist.

I fished my phone from my bag for the GPS only to have it ring in my hand. I groaned. It was Alessandro. In fact, I'd already missed three calls from him. His security staff were probably flipping their lids that I was out on my own. I turned off the phone and kept walking. One of the plusses of being dropped in a tourist area was that it would be easier to find someone who spoke English. They could point me in the right direction of the airport.

I followed the narrow road toward the Colosseum, feeling a spark of regret that I was this close and I still wouldn't get to see it. Like every other visitor and history buff to Rome, it had been number one on my to-do list. Bit seeing as it was already evening as evidenced by the disappearing sun, I doubted it would be open for much longer. I shivered against a gust of cold and cursed that I'd forgotten to pack my winter stuff. In fact, I could hardly recall what I had packed. I'd been too upset to think.

I pulled to a stop and let my head drop. Running away probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. But my mind was in such a confused mess, it was difficult to make sense of anything. All I knew right then was that I was hurting. A lot. My pride was bruised. My sanity barely in tact... If that. I felt like a total fraud. A complete and utter misfit in this world of Alessandro's. I wasn't socialite wife material. I was a fake. Yet, why did the thought of leaving Alessandro to love someone else make me feel sick to the core?

I felt like I'd just swallowed a lead weight. My legs felt so heavy I could barely move another step. I shouldn't have done this. It was dumb. Because even after everything was said and done – the media, the scandal, the family - I did still love him with all of my heart. How could I just leave him and abandon our marriage? No matter how much of a scam my life was at the present moment, Alessandro was my home now.

Heaving a defeated sigh, I found a small cafe and took up a seat by the back wall, musing to myself how I couldn't even make it a success at running away. Fishing my phone out of my overnight bag I flicked it on only to notice with sudden dismay that my battery was down to 1%. I barely had enough time to shoot Alessandro a message before the screen went blank and the phone died in my hands. That was it. I had no choice but to wait and hope his security had managed to get my GPS location in time. I settled into my seat and digging out a book, I cracked is open and started to read.

Several minutes in and I noticed the presence standing over me. My head shot up, heart pelting in my chest only to freeze on the spot when I realised the good looking man standing over me was not Alessandro but a complete stranger. He held a cup of coffee and eyed my book. Taking note of the couple on the cover, he grinned. I felt my cheeks burn and attempted to avoid his glance by focusing on my book, but unfortunately he didn't take the hint and took up a seat in front of me.

"Inglese?" asked the good-looking Italian man.

"Io sono sopsato." I am married I said in my best Italian. "E mio marito è molto geloso." And my husband is very jealous.

But the man simply smiled. "Ah you are English then."

I blinked. "How..?"

Before I knew it, he was grabbing my hand and stroking my newly naked wedding finger. "I have heard this story many times, Signorina. It does not fly with me. You English women are all the same. You make all of these excuses but really you would love to know what it is like to feel the passions of a real Italian man."

My lips pressed together to stop the dark laugh that threatened. Oh I had felt the passions of a real Italian man alright. They were what got me in this mess in the first place.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to encourage you so please understand me when I say no, I mean no, Signor. I am married. My husband is Italian."

"Your husband is Italian?" he said in surprise then his eyes narrowed, still unsure if he could believe me or not. "Why would he be letting you out on your own at night? And without your wedding ring? You are stunning, bella mia. I would not be letting you out of my sights for a second."

"It's..." I sucked in a breath. "Complicated. He will be here shortly."

As if on cue, I heard the loud roar of a car engine and milliseconds later the bright orange Lamborghini screeched to a halt in front of the cafe. Every head turned to look as the strikingly handsome albeit furious Italian man stalked into the cafe. If at any point it was a good opportunity for my table companion to make his escape, it was most definitely now. Unfortunately he seemed to be the only person not paying attention and about two seconds later Alessandro's gaze honed in on me. I sucked in a breath, feeling my skin prickle under the scorching heat of his gaze. He was headed straight for us.

Five, four, three...

I closed my book over and sat back in my seat, preparing myself for the inevitable onslaught.

Two...

One very furious hand slammed down on my friend's shoulder and the man burst upright out of his seat only to find himself staring into the raging face of my husband. Couldn't say I didn't warn him. Alessandro snarled something in Italian that was probably better left untranslated, and without taking a backwards glance the man turned and practically bolted for the door. I felt a pang of jealousy as I watched him go. He'd gotten off easy. I, on the other hand, still had one angry husband staring me down.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi?" he spat. "That is all you have to say to me? Lizzie, what the hell are you doing?"

I swallowed and pulled myself away from his gaze before it sliced me in half. My glance fell to the table where my fingers dug into the book that I still held like it was a lifeline.

"I was running away," I confessed.

Alessandro pulled a face and dropped into the seat the other man had been occupying before.

"Why on earth would you do that?" He sounded cut to the bone and it broke my heart that I had managed to hurt him like that. "Is it something I've done?"

Tears stung the backs of my eyes. I shook my head and choked on a sob.

"No," I finally managed to rasp.

Alessandro grabbed my hand. "Then what is it, Lizzie?"

I choked again, this time finally giving up and letting the tears fall. Alessandro looked grief-stricken. Murmuring something in Italian, he moved around the table so that he was sitting beside me and drew me into a hug where I ugly-sobbed into his shoulder.

"Lizzie, it's okay," I heard him murmur beside me. "You can talk to me. What happened?"

"I thought you would be better off without me. I was going to leave but I couldn't do it, Alessandro. I couldn't leave you. I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry for what, cara?"

"For all the dumb stuff I've done." I hiccupped, breathing in his scent and feeling his strong might under my fingertips. "For embarrassing you by making a fool of myself. For making you chase me half way across Rome."

"Oh Lizzie, you're being silly now. None of these things are your fault. I wasn't angry or upset with you. I was afraid."

"Of what?" I asked.

Pulling from our embrace he set me upright in my seat and cupped my chin, drawing me into his gaze that still looked so hurt. "Don't you see? I was afraid of losing you. Don't you know how much it hurts me to see you suffer at the hands of these people? The media. Lydia. Her father," he practically spat when he mentioned him. "I will do everything in my power to protect you. Whether it's physically, mentally or even your name and reputation."

There was silence as I contemplated his words. Then I sniffled, using the back of my sleeve to wipe my nose in possibly the most un-lady-like gesture known to female kind.

"Even when you have to chase me half way across Rome?"

Alessandro only smiled. "Bella, I would chase you all the way across Rome. It makes no difference." Plucking my overnight bag from under the table and slinging it over his shoulder, Alessandro rose and took my hand. "Now will you come home with me?"

I nodded and let him pull me from my seat. I fell into a tight embrace and I felt his sigh as I rested my head on his chest. Then with a dismissive nod toward Phil (who I had only just noticed was hovering outside the cafe door), he directed me back out to the Lamborghini that he had managed to park halfway across a pedestrian crossing. I dropped into the leather seat with a weary sigh and after stashing my bag in the trunk, Alessandro slipped into his seat beside me. The engine started in a roar.

"Security alerted me to the news report you saw, cara," he said, pulling back out onto the main road. "That was probably the worst slander on your name I have ever seen. There was no way I'd condone something like that being released. You would have been mortified."

I nodded and wiped away a stray tear. "I was."

"I sent off a press release informing the papers that you and I are together for love and are dedicated to our marriage. Look, cara." He fished his phone from his pocket and handed it to me. It was displaying the article I'd seen on my own phone, except instead of the raunchy photos of us on the terrace in Florence, they were of us holding hands and shopping. And instead of the sleazy headline, it announced our relationship in bold print; "Aussie farmer's daughter snaps up one of Italy's most eligible billionaire bachelors." I sucked in a shaky breath. And then another. The relief I felt right then was unimaginable.

"They changed it," I said. "How did you convince them to do that?"

"I supplied them with more up-to date news. You'll notice they don't even speculate on the nature of your relationship with my father anymore. The world now knows that he was the one who set us up in the first place, and that we had been dating since my arrival in Australia before eloping in Hawaii."

"Good." I made my best attempt at a smile but I wasn't sure how convincing it was. It felt more like a cringe.

"Lizzie?"

I shook my head. "I just want to be with you."

"And for the media to leave us alone," he finished my thought for me.

I nodded.

Alessandro reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. "It will be over soon. There is only so much they can sensationalise before the public loses interest."

I couldn't wait for that day to come.