The Last Time I Saw Venice. Vivienne Wallington
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The years rolled back. “Tom! Of course I remember. You planned to specialize in orthopedics.”
“And you in neurosurgery.”
They both gave a laugh, a chopped-off laugh, eyeing each other as if wary of asking if the other had achieved his goal.
“You didn’t change your mind?” Simon asked finally, getting in first as he prepared his own answer in his mind. The fewer details, the better. It was no one’s business but…Annabel’s. If she wanted to hear. And if he had the chance to open up to her…finally. And could open up, spill his guts, lay himself bare. Hell! Why was exposing his darkest feelings and private hells always so damned difficult for him?
“No way,” said Tom. “I’m considered a top orthopedic surgeon these days.” False modesty had never been Tom’s way. “I work in Chicago now, by the way. I’m here in Venice to give a presentation at an orthopedics convention.” He glanced at his watch. “Look, I have to rush off now, but how about joining us for dinner? My wife’s here with me and we’ve a free night. We could catch up on everything then.”
Everything? I don’t think so. Simon hesitated, searching for an excuse. He wanted—needed—to be at a particular hotel tonight…to look out for Annabel. Annabel and her…lover.
“We’re staying at the Gabrielli Sandwirth, on the Lagoon.” Tom was already backing away. “Say you’ll join us. Seven-thirty in the dining-room? Hope that’s not too early? We’ve a new baby and my wife prefers early nights.”
Another baby? Simon groaned inwardly. Just what he needed. More reminders of…
“Congratulations, Tom.” He mouthed the platitude while his mind was racing off at a tangent, having seized on the name of the hotel. The Gabrielli Sandwirth…the very hotel where Annabel was staying! He’d spent all morning checking out the hotels until he found out. Annabel’s secretary wouldn’t divulge that information when he’d called London, only relenting enough to mention that she was in Venice. Learning she’d already left the hotel for the day, he’d hung around St. Mark’s Square in the hope of finding her. And by some miracle, she’d shown up there. With a baby. He grimaced.
“I’ll be there,” he promised, his mind on his wife, not on meeting up again with Tom. Dining at the Gabrielli with other people would give him some cover if Annabel walked in with…lover boy. If she walked in alone— he sent up a silent prayer—he’d excuse himself as soon as he could and join her…if she would let him. He wasn’t 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