her colour with a distinct effort.
‘Well … yes,’ she said, deciding there was no point in lying to him. ‘This is a … heavenly spot.’
Alessandro inclined his head. ‘I like it.’
‘Oh, but surely, Virginia——’ Camilla realised she had put her foot in it once again, and finished somewhat lamely, ‘Virginia must, too.’
‘No.’ He was very definite about that. ‘My … wife … finds Kumaru boring.’
‘Kumaru.’ Camilla liked the way he said it. Until then it had just been an address, but suddenly it had assumed an identity all its own.
‘Yes, Kumaru,’ replied Alessandro shortly, and she realised she must have spoken her thoughts aloud.
Mama Lu’s arrival precluded any further discussion, and for once Camilla was relieved to see the housekeeper. In a long flowing gown that was patterned in exotic island colours, she came across the terrace towards them, her dark face split by a white-toothed smile. Camilla couldn’t help wondering if she was remembering how she had had to put their guest to bed the night before, and whether she was comparing Camilla’s skimpy body with her own generous curves. After all, there was no denying that, for all her size, Mama Lu swelled in all the right places. Fat she might be, but unshapely she was not.
‘Is everything OK here?’ she asked, and Alessandro glanced up at her, his expression gentling amazingly. If he had been attractive before the smile that tilted his rather thin lips now gave his face a startling sensitivity, and for all her staunch resistance Camilla felt an instinctive response.
Then he looked at her, and she pressed her palms down on her knees, under the level of the table, feeling their dampness against her legs. ‘What do you want for breakfast, Miss Richards?’ he enquired politely. ‘Just say what you’d like, and Mama Lu will do the rest.’
‘Oh …’ Camilla surveyed the table, and then lifted her slim shoulders. ‘I … generally just have coffee at home. This is fine, really. I’m not very hungry.’
Which wasn’t strictly true. It was almost twenty-four hours since she had had a decent meal, and, although she didn’t look as though she did, she had a fairly healthy appetite.
‘Not hungry?’ exclaimed Mama Lu now, clearly not believing her. ‘But you had no supper!’
‘I know.’ Camilla gave her a rueful smile, hoping she was not going to make a big thing of that, and Mama Lu snorted.
‘Don’t you like pancakes?’ she asked, a frown drawing her dark brows together, and, although Camilla was sure Alessandro Conti didn’t allow the housekeeper to browbeat all his guests like this, she wasn’t a normal visitor.
‘I … love pancakes,’ she replied defensively, and then caught her breath when the housekeeper picked up her plate and ladled a generous helping of the blueberry pancakes on to it. She smothered these with maple syrup, and then set the plate back in front of Camilla.
‘Enjoy,’ she said, pouring both her employer and his guest some coffee. ‘And you let me know if you want any more.’
She ambled away again, and, while Camilla didn’t expect her host to make any comment, he surprised her yet again. ‘Leave them if you don’t want them,’ he said, eyeing her with mild amusement. ‘Mama Lu thinks everyone should eat generously. It’s her way of justifying her appearance.’
‘Hmm.’ Camilla acknowledged his explanation with a rueful grimace, but the smell of the pancakes was so delicious that she couldn’t resist taking up her fork and trying them.
‘So …’ he said, after pouring himself more coffee, ‘d’you want to tell me why you really came here?’
Camilla’s mouth was full, and she had to empty it before she could speak. But his words were so disturbing that it was difficult to swallow the sticky pudding, and her eyes were watering by the time she was able to answer him.
‘Why?’ she squeaked, and then, clearing her throat, ‘You know why. Virginia … Virginia invited me.’
‘Yes. But why did she invite you?’ Alessandro asked steadily. ‘Why now? And why hasn’t she mentioned you to me before?’
That hurt. It really did. She would have expected Virginia to have mentioned their friendship to Alessandro. If it had meant as much to Virginia as she had always said then she should have talked about her to her husband.
‘I … don’t know,’ she said now, taking another mouthful of the pancake almost automatically. ‘I really don’t.’
‘No.’ Alessandro seemed to believe her, and she breathed a little more easily. But then he spoiled it by adding, ‘And you didn’t know she wouldn’t be here when you arrived?’
‘No.’ Camilla swallowed again, and forked another mouthful of pancake into her mouth. ‘Why would I?’ she demanded, her voice muffled by the food. ‘I thought she was happy here.’
‘How do you know she wasn’t?’ he shot back at her, and Camilla felt indignation at his attitude taking hold of her.
‘You said she was bored,’ she reminded him in the clear, concise tones she used in court, and now it was his turn to look discomfited.
‘Oh, yes,’ he said ruefully, and her indignation dissolved in the face of his admission. ‘I forgot.’
Camilla sighed. ‘You’ve still no idea where they are, then?’ she asked, and he hesitated only a moment before shaking his head. ‘So … what are you going to do?’
He put down his napkin then, and got up from the table, walking to the edge of the terrace and gazing out towards the ocean. He was silent for so long that Camilla thought he wasn’t going to answer her, but then he turned, with one hand gripping an arch of the pergola, and said flatly, ‘What do you think I should do?’
‘Me?’ Camilla said the word around another mouthful of the pancakes. Despite her claims to the contrary, she had known her appetite would not remain dormant and she was embarrassed to discover that she had almost emptied her plate. Putting down her fork, she used her own napkin to dab her mouth, and then shrugged. ‘Well—make enquiries, I suppose.’
‘And where would you make those enquiries?’
‘Where?’ Camilla called upon her own experiences for an answer. ‘Um … well, do you know if they’re still on the island? Could they be visiting friends, or something——?’
‘A woman and a child, answering my wife and daughter’s description, left the island the same day they disappeared,’ he told her bleakly. ‘They flew to Los Angeles, on United Airlines, flight number——’
‘You say a woman and a child answering your wife and daughter’s description,’ Camilla interrupted him quickly. ‘Didn’t they use their own names?’
Alessandro left the pergola and came back to the table. ‘I’m afraid I have to go,’ he said, without answering her. ‘There are some phone calls I want to make, and then I’ll be leaving for my office. You’re welcome to stay here for a couple of days if you’d like to do so. But I suggest you make enquiries about your return flight to
