‘Yes, I suppose that’s it. All right, let’s get going.’
He helped her into the motor boat. Charlie and Pietro got in, and they began the journey down the narrow waterway into the Grand Canal. At this time of night it was still brilliantly lit, and music floated towards them from a distance. It felt like drifting through another world.
Part of her regretted leaving at this moment. Part of her was glad. It had been a relief to avoid facing the question that was teasing her. Damiano had spoken of introducing her to her real self. If she’d had to answer him—what would she have said?
She had no idea.
AT LAST THE Billioni appeared. The boat came to a halt and Damiano helped her out. As they entered the hotel the receptionist became alert and respectful, responding to his gesture indicating that he wanted her complete attention.
So he really is the owner, Sally thought.
Suddenly she heard Charlie mutter, ‘Oh, heavens! How did that happen?’
‘How did what happen?’ she asked, looking around.
Then she saw what had alarmed him. Through an open door she could just see into a room where there was a man whose face she recognised with alarm. He was in his thirties, sloppily dressed, unshaven, with dark hair that looked as though he didn’t bother to comb it. She didn’t know his name but she’d seen him lurking around their home in England, and knew that he was bad news.
‘Charlie, who is he? Charlie? Charlie, where are you?’
But he’d slipped away. Damiano was still engaged in conversation, so she headed for the door to confront the man.
‘I’ve seen you before,’ she said. ‘In England.’
‘Yes, I’m Ken Wilton and I’m looking for that brother of yours. Where is he?’
‘Why do you want him?’
‘Why do you think? He ran off owing me a lot of money, and I want it now.’
Her worst fears were realised, but she set her chin and faced him.
‘Charlie paid all his debts. I know that.’
‘You think that,’ he sneered. ‘I guess you gave him some money, huh?’
‘Yes. More than enough to pay what he owed.’
‘Is that what he told you? Well, I’m telling you that there’s a much bigger debt come to light, and I’m here to collect. Otherwise there’ll be trouble. So you’d better go and get him. He knows who I am.’
‘I’ll do no such thing. I don’t believe he owes you anything.’
He moved closer to her.
‘Really?’ he sneered. ‘I wonder just how sure you are of that, and how long it might take to change your mind.’
Sally tried to turn away from him, but he took her arm in a ruthless grip. ‘Where’s your brother?’ he said.
With a great effort she managed to wriggle free but he came after her and struck her, causing her to fall. A sharp pain went through her head as it hit the wall.
She heard a voice screaming, ‘Sally! Sally!’
Suddenly Pietro was on his knees beside her, trying to take her into his arms. Then a man’s voice cried out her name again and Damiano appeared in the doorway. The next moment her attacker had rushed to the window and dived out. They heard a splash as he landed in the water outside.
Damiano dashed to the window, glanced out, then looked back at Sally on the floor. A porter had followed them in, lured by the noise. Damiano barked some orders at him, then came to kneel beside Sally, drawing her up so that his arms supported her.
‘What did he do to you?’ he groaned.
‘He knocked her down,’ Pietro wailed. ‘I heard him yelling and then he hit her. Oh, Sally, please don’t die.’
Tears were pouring down his face. Through her pain and confusion one thing stood out for Sally—Pietro must be protected from the horror of what he’d seen...
‘I’m all right, Pietro,’ she said. ‘Truly. Just a little bump.’
‘We’ll see what the doctor has to say about that,’ Damiano said. ‘I’m taking you home with me. You can’t stay here in case that ruffian returns.’
‘It’s Charlie he’s after,’ she murmured. ‘Charlie—’
‘I’m here,’ he said, appearing. ‘He’s got away. They couldn’t catch him.’
‘Then the sooner we leave, the better,’ Damiano said.
He rose, drawing Sally gently to her feet, then lifting her in his arms.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘You’re coming with me and you’re going to be safe.’
‘He’s after Charlie—’ she whispered.
‘He’ll be safe too. You have my word on it. Trust me.’
All her instincts agreed, and she found herself relaxing in his arms as he carried her out, pausing only to bark some more orders at the receptionist.
‘They’ll pack up your things and send them after us,’ he told her.
‘My bill—’
‘Taken care of. Don’t worry about anything.’
Her head was aching and she could do nothing but rest it against his shoulder and yield everything up to him. She felt herself being lowered into the motorboat, Damiano sitting beside her with Charlie and Pietro facing. As they swept away Damiano made another call on his cell phone.
‘The doctor will be there when we arrive,’ he said when he’d hung up. ‘Here.’ He handed the phone to Pietro. ‘Call Nora, tell her to have two rooms ready.’
Pietro did as he was told. Sally couldn’t understand the Italian words, but she sensed the tension in his voice. When he finished he spoke urgently to Sally.
‘She’s getting everything ready. We’re going to look after you.’
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, reaching out to take his hand. The little boy’s concern touched her heart.
As Damiano had said, the doctor was there before them. Damiano carried her upstairs to the room that would be hers, laid her down on the bed, then stood back to watch.
The doctor declared that the bump on her head wasn’t serious, but a few days’ rest would do her good.
‘She’ll get everything she wants here,’ Damiano said. ‘I’d like you to come again tomorrow.’
‘Certainly. I brought some painkillers with me, and she should take some now. Then rest and good food is what she needs.’
‘She will be all right, won’t she?’ Pietro asked anxiously. ‘She isn’t going to die?’
‘Definitely not,’ the doctor said kindly. ‘She just needs to take it easy.’
Pietro gave a brief smile but his air was still one of anxiety. Sally reached for him.
‘I’m stronger than I look,’ she assured him. ‘Don’t worry about me.’
His reply was to throw himself into her arms.
‘Steady, don’t shake her,’ Damiano protested.
‘It’s all right,’