‘And now that we’ve settled everything, I’ll leave.’ His voice became brisk. ‘I want you in the office first thing tomorrow. There are arrangements to be made. Is your passport in order?’
‘Of course.’
‘Have you got the number that man in the disgusting jacket gave you to ring when you’d settled the date?’
‘Of course.’
‘Fine. Tell them we’ll travel in two days. We’ll sort out the final details tomorrow. Goodnight.’
He left without another word.
Olympia stood watching the closed door, feeling more confused than she’d been in her life. He threatened her peace, and she’d told herself that the time had come to escape him. But somehow he’d wrested control from her. The trip to Naples would be on his terms.
She’d outwitted him-and then she hadn’t.
Suddenly the future was more exciting than it had ever been.
As he’d said it was all systems go in the office next morning.
‘How can you leave so soon, when you’ve barely got here?’ Olympia protested.
‘But I’m only obeying orders,’ he said innocently. ‘Just a humble cog in the Leonate wheel, doing as I’m told, that’s me.’
‘Why don’t I find that convincing?’
‘Maybe you’re just not a very good judge of character,’ he said simply.
From then on packing and making arrangements about her apartment occupied all her time, and when she finally closed the door to start the journey to the airport she hadn’t seen him for two days. She had to take a taxi. He didn’t even bother to collect her.
She was glad of the time apart. It gave her a breathing space to get her ideas together and remind herself what really mattered. He was attractive, no doubt about it, but so what? She could enjoy a flirtation without compromising her mission, couldn’t she?
But then these cool thoughts would be invaded by memories that were anything but cooclass="underline" the way he’d held her in his arms, the fierce crushing kiss with a hint of some suppressed feeling that might have been desperation, the skilled movements of his lips, knowing so well how to incite her to respond.
He knew her too well. He could speak to her in a silent language they both understood. He was dangerous. She must escape him.
But she was glad with all her heart that he was coming with her.
He was waiting at the airport, greeting her with an air of tension that puzzled her.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked.
‘Fine, fine. Just not too keen on flying.’
In fact he was an excellent traveller, but he’d just completed what he promised himself would be the last, the very last piece of trickery.
Realising that his ticket would be provided in the name of Cayman, he’d intercepted it when it had been delivered to the office the previous day, then booked himself another ticket in his true name and got to the airport early to collect it.
Now he was vowing that it would all soon be over. Safe in Naples, he would confess everything to Olympia over a glass of wine. They would share a laugh, and she would forgive him.
Eventually.
And he would never tell another lie as long as he lived. His nerves couldn’t stand it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘THERE it is,’ he said as the volcano came into view in the distance. ‘That’s what you’ve been watching for, isn’t it?’
‘Vesuvius,’ she said ecstatically. ‘How fierce and magnificent it looks.’
The plane turned and now the lights of Naples were below them, like arms curving around the bay. Another few minutes and they were down.
Then they were in the taxi, climbing the hill to the Vallini, the grandest hotel that Naples had to offer. As soon as she stepped through the door she was enveloped in luxury. Uniformed staff murmured, ‘Signorina,’ as they ushered her to her suite.
There she found a double bed of antique design but modern comfort, a marble bathroom and a sitting room with a balcony that looked out over the bay.
‘I’ll leave you for a while,’ he said, ‘while I check my apartment. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.’
When he’d gone she had a long soak in scented water while the hotel laundry service pressed the creases from the black dress she’d worn to the nightclub. A hairdresser arrived and dressed her long black hair in elegant sweeps, some wound about her head, some falling.
It was a magical evening. He led her downstairs to his low slung sports car.
‘Let me show you a little of my town,’ he said.
They drove for an hour through narrow cobbled streets. Once she caught him stealing a smiling glance at her and knew it was a reminder of how he’d once teased her about ‘urchins and cobbled streets’.
‘But where are the urchins?’ she asked at last and they both laughed.
They dined at a tiny trattoria, saying little. He forbade her to speak English and she struggled through the evening with her basic Italian.
‘You’re doing well,’ he said. ‘The more you practise it the better.’
‘When do I start work?’ she wanted to know.
‘Let’s enjoy a few days holiday first. Once I’ve introduced you to Enrico you’ll be swallowed up.’ After a moment he added delicately, ‘And, of course, there’s the other introduction you want.’
‘Oh, yes,’ she murmured. ‘Him.’
For a moment she’d wondered who he meant.
‘Yes, him,’ he said, eyebrows slightly raised. ‘Primo Rinucci. The man this is all about.’
‘Well, there’s no rush, is there? Let’s not talk about him tonight. I don’t want to think about work.’
‘I’ll swear it’s years since you last said that.’
‘Yes,’ she said in surprise. ‘It is.’
She wondered how anyone could think of work in this colourful place. Looking through the window by their table, she saw couples strolling through the narrow streets, lost in each other. It had been raining earlier and the blurred reflections of lights gleamed on the wet cobbles, giving a misty edge to the world. No, tonight she didn’t want to think of work, or anything except the man with her.
She listened for the voice telling her to beware because he endangered her ambitions, but somehow it was muted. She would listen to it another time.
‘What are you thinking?’ he asked.
‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’
‘Then don’t tell me. I’ll work it out.’
‘I wonder if you will.’
‘I will, strega. I will.’
‘Strega?’
‘There are still gaps in your Italian. Look it up.’
‘Tell me.’
‘No.’ He shook his head, his lips pressed firmly together. ‘But I’ve thought of you as strega since the first day.’
‘Is it a nice thing to be?’
‘It changes. Mostly it leaves me not knowing what to think.’
‘And that annoys you?’
‘Only sometimes. At others-’ He let the implication hang in the air.
‘Tell me,’ she begged again, but he only shook his head.
He drove slowly back to the hotel and saw her up to her suite.
‘Go to bed and sleep well,’ he said. ‘I’ll call early tomorrow.’
‘Come for breakfast.’
‘All right. And we’ll plan the day. There’s a lot I want to show you. Look-’
He led the way out on to the balcony where a brilliant full moon shone down over the bay. She stared out over the dark water, unable to believe such beauty.
His cellphone rang and he muttered something rude, turning back into the room to answer it. The next moment she heard his shocked exclamation.
Hurrying back into the room, she saw him standing with the phone to his ear, his eyes wide, his jaw gaping.
‘What is it?’ she asked urgently.