to leave it there. Don’t worry, it missed the important bits,’ he added drily.
She glared at him, shocked he’d been hurt so badly and furious that he was treating it so lightly when she’d been going through hell. ‘This is no time for joking, Gio! A severed artery? You could have bled to death!’
He reached out his hand, then remembered and dropped it carefully back onto the covers.
‘Come round this side,’ he said gruffly, but there was a drip there and it was no better.
Actually, that wasn’t true. It was better. She sat down beside him, threaded her shaking fingers carefully through his and closed them firmly round his hand.
Dio, it felt good to hold her. The warmth from her palm spread into him and thawed the ice that seemed to have formed inside him, and as the tension eased, he realised how tight he’d been holding himself.
For a moment they said nothing, then she frowned slightly, her brow puckering as she tried to make sense of it.
‘Why did she try to attack you, Gio? Who was she? One of your thwarted lovers?’
He laughed softly. ‘No. A very disappointed woman. We had a meeting with her today, the reason I had to delay leaving, and she came off worst. She feels I cheated her.’
‘And did you?’
‘No. I just made sure she got what she deserved from my client, which was nothing,’ he said, and he watched her frown again.
‘Wow. And she attacked you for that?’
‘Well, to be fair I did most of it myself when I fell up the kerb and landed on the bag. Apparently my ankle isn’t broken, though, which is good news. It’s just bruised and sprained.’
He nearly laughed at the ‘just’ but he hurt too much to bother.
‘And your hand?’ she asked, arching a brow towards his bandaged fingers. ‘I can still see all your fingers, so I guess you didn’t cut them off.’
‘No. They seem to be there and they all move. As I say, most of it was my own fault.’
‘Mmm. That really wasn’t very clever, was it?’
He snorted at the mild understatement, and her fingers tightened a little. ‘Sorry. The police are here, by the way, waiting for you to feel well enough to talk to them. And you need to phone your mother.’
He nodded. ‘Call her now for me—I’ll talk to her first. And then I’ll talk to the police. She didn’t really do anything.’
‘Gio, she attacked you. If she hadn’t, none of this would have happened.’
‘She hit me with her handbag. That’s all. The police don’t need to be involved.’
‘And if she comes after you again?’
He shrugged. ‘She won’t. And if she does, I’ll be ready for her this time.’
She gave up arguing. She dialled his mother, handed him the phone and then left him alone and went and found something to eat and drink.
It could have been fantastic, or cardboard. It wouldn’t have made any difference, because she couldn’t taste it, not with the image of him lying there like a ghost so fresh in her mind. But it was food, and she ate it mechanically while she beat herself up about not answering his first call.
What if he’d died? What if he’d rung her, and then passed out from loss of blood before he could call an ambulance? No, he must have called one first. He surely wouldn’t have been stupid enough to call her so many times before he called the medical services? Maybe, if he had her on speed-dial. Maybe he’d thought it would be quicker, but then she hadn’t answered, and that could have cost him his life…
She felt sick, and pushed away the last of her panini. Cardboard, she decided finally, realising she was probably being unfair, but whatever, she couldn’t eat any more of it. She went back to him, and found him propped up on his pillows looking pale and drawn and very tired.
‘What did the police say?’
‘They’re going to talk to her. Apparently she called an ambulance, so she at least has a conscience, but her phone’s now switched off—’
‘She called an ambulance?’
‘Yes—why?’
Because it meant he wouldn’t have died because of her. She shook her head, relief taking her legs out from under her, so she sat down shakily on the chair beside him. ‘Nothing. I’m just surprised. So how are you feeling?’
He shrugged. ‘Much the same. The doctor’s been, as well, while you were gone. They’re going to keep me in overnight and review me in the morning, but they think I can probably go home tomorrow. I have to have another blood transfusion. The vampires were a bit greedy.’
He smiled, but she couldn’t smile back. Not when he’d come so close. She looked at her watch. Nearly midnight.
‘I’ll go home now, then, and I’ll come back in the morning. Do you want me to bring you some clothes in when I come?’
‘Please. My bags are in the car already. If you could bring the small one, it’s got everything I’ll need. The big one’s just ski stuff. You’d better clear it with the police on the way out, or they might not let you get it. It’ll be a crime scene now, apparently. I’ve told them they’re over-reacting, but they seem to feel they need to collect the evidence. Here, my keys. It’s the little Mercedes sports, by the way.’
‘Where’s the Ferrari?’
He smiled. ‘I do too much driving in the city. It was fun, but not practical in the city streets. The Mercedes is much more sensible.’
‘That doesn’t sound like you.’
‘Maybe I’ve changed.’
She just laughed at that. Giovanni Valtieri would never change. She’d given up hoping for miracles.
She took the keys from him, and bent and kissed his cheek, letting her face rest there for a moment. She could feel the slight rasp of stubble, the roughness curiously comforting and reassuring as he turned his head against hers and touched her cheek with his lips.
‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ she murmured, and with another light brush of her lips against his jaw she straightened up and met his dark, weary eyes.
‘Ciao, Anita,’ he mumbled tiredly. ‘And thank you.’
‘Prego. You take care. No more fighting with women.’
He gave a soft chuckle and raised his good hand as she left, and she winked at him and went out into the corridor. The policeman was there, and she asked him to contact the team at his apartment building to alert them that she’d need access to his car.
Then she walked away without waiting for the OK. She was tired and emotionally exhausted, and she just wanted to get home, but first she had to get his bag. The area was cordoned
