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to stand beside them. This man who had an Italian name that matched his looks but who, curiously, spoke perfect English with an Irish accent, translated his query.

      ‘He wants to know if you need assistance of any kind.’

      A snort of something akin to laughter escaped Charlotte. She alone was the only person who could provide the kind of assistance she needed right now. Unless by some miracle a police diving team could be available within seconds and an even more impressive miracle would reveal a laptop that could survive total submersion.

      But a rapid conversation in Italian led to the police officer nodding and indicating, with a wave of his arm, that Charlotte should follow him.

      Nick was also following. ‘He’s going to take us to the symposium venue,’ he said briskly. ‘In the police launch. It will only take a few minutes.’

      Charlotte looked down at her ruined clothes. She couldn’t appear anywhere looking like this.

      ‘We will explain what’s happened.’ His hand was on her arm, guiding her through the crowd that was only now dispersing properly. ‘Please let me help if I can. I feel responsible for this unfortunate turn of events and I will do anything I can to put things right. Perhaps they can rearrange the order of the presentations. And do you have a back-up of your material?’

      Having a man step in and try and solve this problem was the last thing Charlotte needed.

      ‘Of course I do. It’s on a flash drive.’

      ‘Which is where?’

      Charlotte focused as the police officer offered her a hand to step into the speed boat. She ignored the hand, climbed aboard unaided and then turned back.

      She had to speak through gritted teeth. ‘It’s in the side pocket of the laptop case that you threw into the canal.’

      It was a totally unjustified accusation in the wake of an obvious accident. It was also an undeserved slap in the face given that he was trying so hard to help.

      But Charlotte didn’t care. She couldn’t afford to.

      ‘Please don’t concern yourself any further.’ She turned away and nodded to the pilot of the boat, who revved the engine. Waved at him imperiously enough to indicate that speed was of the essence and it was time to leave. ‘This is my problem and I will deal with it.’

      Nico watched the police launch speed away down the canal.

      He could walk to the venue in only a few minutes longer than the boat trip would take. He hadn’t actually told her that he was booked to attend the symposium himself so he couldn’t really take offence that he hadn’t been invited to share the ride.

      Besides…he needed a few minutes to try and get his head around this extraordinary development.

      She might not remember him but he remembered Charlotte Highton very well indeed. He’d been looking forward to seeing what that dynamic young doctor was like further down the track of her brilliant career.

      Not that she’d been his type when he’d met her all those years ago but he’d been able to appreciate her attributes. The soft femininity that had been such a delightful contrast to the skill and intelligence she’d radiated as a young clinician. The sparkle of a woman who’d had the world and most of its men at her feet.

      Now she was a female clinician who exuded power and control. There wasn’t even the slightest hint of softness.

      Or emotion, other than anger.

      Except…just for a moment there, when he’d told her that he’d met her before, Nico could swear he had seen real fear in her eyes. A vulnerability that had been so out of place with the external appearance of this woman that he’d thought he’d been imagining things.

      What he certainly wasn’t imagining was the stark contrast between the woman he remembered admiring in the past and the one he’d just encountered.

      What the hell had happened to Charlotte Highton?

      And what was she trying to hide?

       CHAPTER TWO

      ‘CHARLOTTE…THERE YOU ARE! Thank goodness…I’ve been seriously worried about what might have happened to you.’ The tall, grey-haired man was hurrying towards her. As he got closer, however, his step faltered and his eyes widened. ‘Oh, my goodness. What has happened to you?’

      The hotel Bonvecchiata had a water landing for gondolas and motorboats so Charlotte had entered the foyer moments after leaping out of the police launch. She knew she looked a fright but there’d been no chance to duck into a restroom and at least tidy her hair and sponge some of the mud from her clothing. Richard Campbell, the co-ordinator of this select symposium and the man who’d invited her to open it, must have been pacing the foyer as he’d waited anxiously for her to arrive.

      ‘Long story, Richard. I’m very sorry, but I got caught up in an emergency. A man went into cardiac arrest and fell off some scaffolding right in front of me. I had to keep up the CPR until the ambulance got there.’

      Charlotte was speaking quickly but her mind was working even faster. There were about fifty people who’d been invited to attend this symposium. Where were they? Sitting in the conference room already, drumming their fingers on the tabletops and muttering about the substandard organisation of this gathering?

      Richard was an old friend. Charlotte felt terrible about letting him down like this by being late and he didn’t even know the worst of it yet. How was she going to tell him that she’d lost her presentation material?

      He’d noticed her gaze sweep the foyer.

      ‘They’re serving coffee and cake in the restaurant for everybody. As soon as I knew you were running late I put back the start time for half an hour. There’s a couple of attendees that aren’t here yet as well.’

      ‘Oh…’ Charlotte nodded. She had been given a small breathing space. Now she had to decide if there was any way in the world she could rescue the situation. ‘Richard…about my opening address…’

      The older man smiled. ‘Catchy title. “Miracles or Mutilation?” It’s caught everybody’s attention already, I have to say. But, Charlotte…’ Richard was frowning now, looking down at her shredded tights and grazed knees. ‘Are you going to be able to deliver it?’

      Richard Campbell’s reputation was on the line here. There were people from all over the world who’d chosen to come to this satellite symposium—a breakaway group from the much larger conference that had finished in Rome yesterday—plus others who had chosen to come to this forum without attending the main conference. They were all leaders in the field of emergency medicine. Exceptionally busy people who would not be happy to have their precious time wasted.

      Charlotte’s presentation had been researched meticulously. the medical illustrations department of her university hospital had spent hours preparing the graphics that represented the facts and figures, the trends and the controversies about cost-effectiveness. It didn’t matter how phenomenal her memory was, there was no way she could do justice to her presentation.

      If she could get hold of someone at St Margaret’s they could find the presentation on her desk computer and email it to her, but that would take too much time. They only had a matter of hours to fit in the other presentations and discussions before the symposium dinner this evening. And someone needed to open the day’s programme.

      How would it look it she backed out? Even with the best excuse in the world it would still dent her reputation as a young leader in this field, and Charlotte needed that reputation. It was who she was. The professional Charlotte Highton was strong enough to hide the real Charlotte. The inadequate, shameful one who wasn’t a real woman at all.

      She was caught between a rock and a hard place here. If

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