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her.

      ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.

      ‘Better. My head isn’t hurting. I’m sorry to give you so much trouble.’

      ‘Don’t talk nonsense,’ he said, speaking with a gentleness that contrasted with his words. ‘You are no trouble.’ He indicated some bags on the floor. ‘Your things have arrived, so you can unpack soon.’

      ‘My bill—’

      ‘I told you not to worry about that. You were attacked in my hotel. That’s my responsibility and the least I can do is wipe out your bill, and Charlie’s. Don’t mention it again.’

      ‘But that man—Wilton—what happened to him?’

      ‘He escaped, which may be a good thing. Otherwise the police would have become involved and you’d have found it distressing. The hotel security staff will find him.’

      ‘But how will they know what he looks like?’

      ‘They’ll know his appearance from the camera outside the front door that records the face of every visitor,’ Damiano said. ‘They’ll track him down and persuade him not to trouble you again.’

      She didn’t ask what ‘persuade him’ meant. This man would have his own methods of persuasion that would probably make her shudder. She found that she could no longer fight off the horror. Tremors afflicted her, and she clenched her fists, struggling to stay calm.

      ‘Come here,’ Damiano said.

      The next moment his arms were around her, enfolding her in warmth and comfort.

      ‘It’s all right,’ he murmured. ‘Hold onto me. I’m going to look after you.’

      She believed him. The feeling of safety seemed to envelop her, warming her heart and her flesh in a way she had never known before. She clung to him, letting her head rest on his shoulder, wishing it could stay there for ever.

      For several minutes neither of them moved. Then he lowered her gently onto the pillow.

      ‘I want to understand everything,’ he said. ‘Getting rid of that lout was just the start. What else do you need me to do?’

      She hesitated, glad to feel his strength and support, but uncertain whether she should tell him any more about Charlie.

      ‘You’ve done enough—’ she began.

      ‘That’s for me to say,’ he replied in a voice that was quiet but brooked no argument. ‘I want to know what lies behind this, and you’re going to tell me.’

      She sighed.

      ‘I know I’m safe, but Charlie isn’t. Wilton was after him, and I don’t think he’ll give up.’

      ‘I promise you, he will when I’ve finished with him,’ Damiano said.

      ‘Where is Charlie now?’

      ‘Safely settled in the room next to you. Tell me about him. Once before you implied that he’s irresponsible, even for his age.’

      ‘He doesn’t mean any harm, but he’s young and he doesn’t think things through. He gambles a lot, and loses.’

      ‘And guess who has to pay up to get him out of trouble,’ Damiano said wryly.

      ‘I suppose I shouldn’t, but I find it so hard to refuse him.’

      ‘Even though you must know you’re not doing him any favours in the long term. He’s never going to learn better as long as he gets away with it.’

      ‘I know,’ she said wretchedly, ‘but there’s no one to protect him, and that’s my fault.’

      ‘I don’t believe that. Stop putting yourself down.’

      ‘Seven years ago I was knocked down in the road. My parents set out to drive to the hospital. A lorry crashed into their car and they both died.’

      ‘And you blame yourself for that?’ he demanded. ‘Surely it wasn’t your fault that you were injured?’

      ‘No, but if it hadn’t been for me they wouldn’t have been on the road and an eleven-year-old boy wouldn’t have been left an orphan. Since then I’ve been the only family he has.’

      ‘How old were you at the time?’

      ‘Twenty-one.’

      ‘Just twenty-one, and your life was taken away from you.’

      ‘No—no, not really. People expect to make sacrifices for the ones they love.’

      ‘But they don’t expect to live in a prison. Isn’t that your life? Behind bars, with Charlie’s needs holding the key?’

      It was true. She’d never faced it before, but Damiano saw everything.

      ‘But you’re the same,’ she said. ‘You build your life around Pietro’s needs.’

      ‘A father expects to do that for his son. But a sister is entitled to a life of her own. One day he’ll have grown up enough to go his own way, and you’ll be left stranded in a desert. No husband, no lover, no children.’

      ‘But I have my career. I’ll always have that. When he finally leaves me I won’t be in that desert.’

      ‘You will if your career is all you have.’

      ‘But what can I do? He needs me, but I can’t make him understand. I beg him to be careful, and responsible, but he just thinks I’m making a fuss about nothing.’

      ‘As lads of that age often do,’ he agreed.

      ‘I can’t just abandon him.’

      ‘But can you defend him? When men like that come calling can you drive them off?’

      She shook her head. ‘No, I guess I can’t.’ She gave him an ironic smile. ‘If you ever want a job as a bodyguard I’ve got a vacancy.’

      ‘I’ll remember that,’ he said, returning the smile. ‘But when you return to England, and Wilton pursues you again—’

      ‘Don’t, don’t!’ she cried. ‘My head’s spinning. I don’t know which way to turn.’

      ‘Perhaps fate will show you.’

      She shook her head. ‘That’s a nice thought, but you can’t rely on fate. You have to fix things for yourself. Only I don’t know how.’

      ‘But perhaps fate does know how. Just be patient and see what happens. Now it’s time for you to eat something. Nora has prepared you a meal, and Pietro is going to bring it in. He’s determined to stay awake and be one of your attendants. You won’t mind having him fuss over you, will you?’

      ‘No, of course not. It was terrible for him to see what happened. I know it upset him, and if looking after me helps him cope with it, I’ll be very glad.’

      ‘Thank you. I knew you’d understand.’

      The door opened a crack and Charlie’s face appeared. ‘Can I come in?’

      He came to the bed and hugged her. ‘Sorry, sis. I just seem to land you in it, don’t I?’

      ‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ she told him in the chivvying tone she often used with him. ‘There’s nothing about you that I can’t cope with.’

      ‘I’m sorry. If it wasn’t for me—’

      ‘If it wasn’t for you I’d be lonely. Don’t blame yourself, Charlie.’

      ‘Perhaps I should. Perhaps you should just dump me—’

      ‘And leave you at that man’s mercy? Get real. Grow up. We’re going to do this my way.’

      He gave a comically theatrical salute. ‘Yes, ma’am, no, ma’am, three

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