you think? Why didn’t you ring the bell for Emilia? She would have found you an electric dryer.’
‘I felt she had enough on her plate without running around after me. And it is siesta time, after all.’ She paused. ‘So, why are you here, come to that?’
‘I could not sleep either.’ He glanced down at Caio, who returned him a baleful look. ‘Under the circumstances, that was fortunate.’
‘Just in time to spoil his bid for freedom, poor little mutt.’ She offered the dog her hand again, and found her fingers being licked by his small rough tongue.
‘You seem to have made a friend, bella mia.’ Alessio sounded amused. ‘My aunt will have another reason for jealousy.’ He scratched the top of Caio’s head. ‘And I thought the whole world was his enemy.’
‘He’ll think so too, if we tie him up to that bench again,’ Laura said ruefully.
‘Then we will not do so. I will put him in my aunt’s room instead, with his water. His basket is there, anyway, and he will be cooler,’ he added, frowning. ‘I cannot imagine why she would leave him anywhere else.’ He sighed. ‘Another topic for discussion that will displease her.’
‘Another?’
‘I have yet to raise the subject of your visit to Paolo.’
‘Oh, please,’ Laura said awkwardly. ‘I’ve been thinking about that, and maybe I shouldn’t persist. If she’s so adamant, it will only cause problems.’
He said gently, ‘But that is nonsense, Laura mia. Of course you must see your lover. Your visit can do nothing but good, I am sure.’ His gaze travelled over her, from the high, frilled neck of her robe, down to her bare insteps, and she felt every inch of concealed skin tingle under his lingering regard. Felt an odd heat burgeoning inside her, which had nothing to do with the warmth of the day.
He smiled at her. ‘And I will ask Emilia to bring you the hairdryer,’ he added softly, then turned away.
Laura regained the sanctuary of her room, aware that her breathing had quickened out of all proportion.
She closed the shutters behind her, then, on impulse, decided to fasten the small iron bar that locked them. It had clearly not been used for some time because it resisted, finally falling into place with a bang that resounded in the quiet of the afternoon like a pistol shot.
She could only hope Alessio hadn’t heard it, because he’d be bound to put two and two together. And the last thing she needed was for him to think that he made her nervous in any way.
Because she had nothing to fear from him, and she was flattering herself to think otherwise.
Someone like Alessio Ramontella would live on a diet of film stars and heiresses, she told herself, pushing her damp hair back from her face with despondent fingers. And if he’s kind to me, it’s because he recognises I’m out of my depth, and feels sorry for me.
And as long as I remember that, I’m in no danger. No danger at all.
Her reunion with the dying Paolo was scheduled to take place before dinner. A note signed ‘Ramontella’ informing her of the arrangement had been brought to her by Emilia, along with the promised hair-dryer.
He’d certainly wasted no time over the matter, Laura thought as she followed Guillermo over to the other side of the villa. All she had to do now was pretend to be suitably eager.
She’d dressed for the occasion, putting on her other decent dress, a slim fitting blue shift, sleeveless and scoop-necked. Trying to upgrade it with a handful of silver chains and a matching bracelet.
She’d painted her fingernails and toenails a soft coral, and used a toning lustre on her mouth, emphasising her grey eyes with shadow and kohl.
The kind of effort a girl would make for her lover, she hoped.
She found herself in a long passageway, looking out onto yet another courtyard. The fountain here was larger, she saw, pausing, and a much more elaborate affair, crowned by the statue of a woman crafted in marble. She stood on tiptoe, as if about to take flight, hair and scanty draperies flying behind her, and a bow in her hand, gazing out across the tumbling water that fell from the rock at her feet.
‘The goddess Diana for whom the villa is named, signorina,’ Guillermo, who had halted too, told her in his halting English. ‘Very beautiful, si?’
‘Very,’ Laura agreed with less than total certainty as she studied the remote, almost inhuman face. The virgin huntress, she thought, who unleashed her hounds on any man unwise enough to look at her, and who had the cold moon as her symbol.
And not the obvious choice of deity for someone as overtly warm-blooded as Alessio Ramontella. Her dogs would have torn him to pieces on sight.
She looked down the passage to the tall double doors at the end. ‘Is that Signor Paolo’s room?’
‘But no, signorina.’ He sounded almost shocked. ‘That is the suite of His Excellency. The signore, his cousin, is here.’ He turned briskly to the left, down another much shorter corridor, and halted, knocking at a door.
It was flung open immediately, and the Signora swept out, her eyes raking Laura with an expression of pure malevolence.
‘You may have ten minutes,’ she snapped. ‘No more. My son needs rest.’
What does she think? Laura asked herself ironically as she entered. That I’m planning to jump his bones?
The shutters were closed and the drapes were drawn too, so the room, which smelled strongly of something like camphorated oil, was lit only by a lamp at the side of the bed.
Paolo was lying, eyes closed, propped up by pillows. He was wearing maroon pyjamas, which made him look sallow, Laura thought. Or maybe it was the effect of the lamplight.
She pulled up a chair, and sat beside the bed. ‘Hi,’ she said gently. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Terrible.’ His voice was hoarse and pettish, and the eyes he turned on her were bloodshot and watering. ‘Not well enough to talk, but Alessio insisted. I had to listen to him arguing with my mother, and my headache returned. What is it you want?’
‘I don’t want anything.’ She bit her lip. ‘Paolo, we’re supposed to be crazy about each other, remember? It would seem really weird if I didn’t ask for you.’ She hesitated. ‘I think your cousin feels that I’m stuck here in a kind of vacuum, and feels sorry for me.’
‘He would do better to concentrate his compassion on me,’ Paolo said sullenly. ‘He refuses to call a doctor, although he knows that I have had a weak chest since childhood, and my mother fears this cold may settle there.’ He gave a hollow cough as if to prove his point. ‘He said he would prefer to summon a vet to examine Caio, and he and my mother quarrelled again.’
Laura sighed. ‘I’m sorry if you’re having a difficult time, but you’re not the only one.’ She leaned forward. ‘Paolo, I’m finding it really hard to cope with being the uninvited guest round here. I need you to support me—take off some of the pressure.’ She paused. ‘How long, do you think, before you’re well enough to get up
