‘Hmm…’ Nico was digesting the information. He was silent for a long time and when he spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically grim. ‘He hurt her,’ he said softly. ‘He hurt Charlotte badly, this Siegfried.’
‘Yes.’ Lady Geraldine dabbed at the corner of her eyes with her napkin.
‘Physically?’
The gasp was shocked. ‘Oh, no… If he’d done that, she would have gone to the police, surely?’
‘But you said she looked unwell.’
‘She’d had flu. There was a very bad flu going around that year. One of those bird varieties, I think.’
Nico wasn’t listening. How could anyone have wanted to hurt Charlotte? She had been so beautiful. A girl testing the wings of womanhood. In love and totally trusting. What kind of bastard had he been and what had he done to her? Nico didn’t believe the ‘flu’ excuse for a moment. And something was telling him that the pain of the broken relationship had not been simply emotional.
‘I need to talk to Charlotte,’ he said, his chair scraping on the stone-flagged floor as he pushed it back.
Lady Geraldine caught his arm as he turned to leave. Her age and state of health disappeared from Nico’s awareness as he read her expression. It was the look of a mother as well as a grandmother. Ageless. She needed to protect her child and she wasn’t sure if she should have spoken about her concerns. There was a plea in her eyes that Nico could read only too well.
‘I’m not going to hurt her.’ The words came out like a vow and Nico meant every one of them. ‘I never would. That I can promise you.’
Charlotte was freezing.
An evening dress was entirely inadequate for a winter’s night in Venice but she couldn’t go back inside. She could see that the evening was winding up now and people were leaving.
Good. If she waited a little longer, there would be no audience for when she had to go back in and face her grandmother after Nico had explained why he couldn’t accompany them on the Orient Express.
She could see them through the tall, arched window. Their body language was intense as they leaned towards each other, oblivious to anyone else in the room. The fairy lights made the room seem like another world and Charlotte could see the Christmas images still scrolling against the far wall. Snowmen and sleighs. Christmas trees and prettily wrapped parcels. Happy people. Families. Parents with excited children.
Parents who had once been lovers. Engaged couples.
Charlotte was twisting the ring on her finger without realising it. She gave it a tug. Good grief…it was a tight fit. She was going to need soap to get it off. Maybe she should go into the bathroom and find some.
But then she saw Nico get to his feet abruptly and she saw the way her grandmother caught his arm. For a moment that seemed suspended in time she saw the way they looked at each other and the light was enough for her to see the expression on Nico’s face. Such a kind expression. Loving. Intense. The kind of look someone might have if they were making a promise they intended to keep.
Or maybe he’d been apologising. Was he coming out to tell her it was safe to go back in now?
Charlotte’s heart picked up as Nico came out onto the balcony. He moved with such grace, this man. A calm assurance that he could command his environment and protect anyone within it. Powerful but not intimidating because there was a softness about him. That slow, easy smile. The glint in those dark eyes that advertised the ability to find joy in life. To play.
That’s what they’d been doing tonight and Charlotte couldn’t deny that, for a while, it had been…fun. No. Fun wasn’t the word. What had drawn her in had been the illusion. The need to taste something that was so seductive it was irresistible. The illusion of being in love.
With Nico.
She had to turn her head and stop staring at him as if the charade was still continuing.
‘Did you talk to Gran?’
‘I did.’ Nico was close to her now.
‘Did you tell her the truth? Does she understand why you can’t come on the train with us?’ Charlotte couldn’t repress a shiver. Was it the cold or the disappointment of failure?
‘Not exactly.’ Nico was shrugging off his jacket. He stepped closer and draped it over Charlotte’s shoulders.
Her first instinct was to shrug the garment off with a dismissive shake. She wasn’t a child who needed someone to take care of her. She could look after herself, thanks very much.
But the gesture had been unexpectedly thoughtful.
Caring.
And the warmth was astonishingly comforting. Charlotte could feel her fingers creeping to the edges of the jacket to pull it closer around her. The warmth was the warmth of Nico’s body. The slide of the silk lining against the bare skin of her arms and shoulders made it feel as though he was touching her.
It was disturbingly intimate now. Charlotte could even catch a whiff of a scent that was pure male. Pure Nico? She had to close her eyes for a heartbeat as she tried to stop herself inhaling deeply.
‘Your grandmother loves you very much,’ Nico said quietly. ‘She does not want you to be hurt…again.’
Again? Her eyes snapped open. Oh, my God…what had they been talking about in there? But Gran didn’t know the truth so she couldn’t have told Nico. She was safe.
So why didn’t she feel safe?
‘W-what did you say?’
Nico looked more serious than she’d seen him look all day. Even when he’d been arriving at a potentially fatal incident. The subdued look didn’t sit well on a face that was made for laughter. Her heart skipped another beat.
‘I told her that I would never hurt you.’
‘So she still thinks that we’re…we’re engaged?’
Nico’s mouth twitched. ‘I’m afraid so. I couldn’t bring myself to cause her pain.’
It shouldn’t be such a relief. Not when Charlotte couldn’t see any way out of this.
‘And the train?’
Nico shrugged. ‘I have a free day. I have to get back to London. Why not?’
‘Because…it’s impossible. How could we keep this up for thirty hours?’ Charlotte had another try at tugging the ring off her finger, looking away from him as she did so.
She could see past Nico to where the final guests for the evening were leaving. Only her grandmother remained and the maître d’ was looking concerned, helping the elderly woman to her feet. Lady Geraldine was pointing towards the balcony. And now she was walking towards the door.
‘Nothing is impossible,’ Nico was saying.
‘She’s coming. She’ll guess. She’s not stupid.’
‘She won’t guess if you stop trying to remove that ring.’ Nico caught her hands. ‘If we…’
His hands moved, pulling hers up to his neck before he let them go. His hands kept moving, though, burying themselves in her hair. Cupping the back of her head and tilting it as he leaned in to cover her mouth with his own.
He was kissing her.
Just for show. To cover an awkward moment when Gran might have picked up on the tension between them.
Except…it didn’t feel like a pretend kiss.
Or maybe it did, for that first, startled moment as their lips made contact, but then Nico’s lips moved with a kind of question that Charlotte couldn’t help responding to on some deep, instinctive