‘My bag,’ she said dazedly as her head began to buzz. ‘It’s gone.’
* * *
Once Rico settled on a course of action, nothing swayed him from it, and this evening was no different. He’d decided against seducing Carla and from that moment on he just wanted supper over and done with. Her effect on him was too hard to ignore and he was tired of fighting it.
With every mouthful he’d taken, the usually delicious food tasting strangely of nothing, he’d been aware of her eyes on him, burning right through the layers of clothing and searing his skin. He was so attuned to her frequency he’d even caught the tiny variations in her breathing while she’d been studying him, which was as extraordinary as it was baffling when he’d never before experienced such awareness. But at least he’d had the consolation of soon being able to escape.
Not so now.
Fate clearly had other ideas for this evening.
‘What do you mean, gone?’ he asked, the unease that had faded with every passing second now slamming back into him with a vengeance.
‘Exactly that,’ she said, her face white, the green eyes that met his wide and troubled. ‘My passport, my keys, my money, my phone. Everything. Practically my whole life. Gone.’
‘How?’ he said sharply. ‘When?’
‘I don’t know.’ She ran her hands through her hair, a deep frown creasing her forehead. ‘But someone bumped into my chair earlier, while we were eating. I thought they were drunk. It could have happened then.’
Rico inwardly tensed, stunned disbelief ricocheting through him as the impact of her words registered. Someone had knocked into her? How the hell had he not noticed that? He, who’d once lived on the streets and still slept with one eye open. Who had razor-sharp instincts and missed nothing. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to be distracted by her focus on him, dannazione. He shouldn’t have been so determined to get through the evening as quickly as possible, to the extent that nothing else mattered.
‘Do you remember what they looked like?’ he asked, not liking one little bit the apparent dulling of the wits he’d relied on from the age of twelve.
‘Not really. I barely caught a glimpse of him. Or her.’
‘No CCTV out here.’
‘No... Damn...’ She took a deep breath and grimaced. ‘Look, I really hate having to ask, but could I use your phone? I need to find somewhere else to stay.’
The reality of her situation—and his—hit him then and his j
aw tightened minutely. The only hotels available were no doubt less than salubrious and who knew how long it would take to find a vacancy? He knew what it was like to spend the night on the streets, cold and alone and afraid, and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Venice was labyrinthine and not all of it was pretty enough to end up on a postcard.
He couldn’t abandon her, no matter how much he might wish to. Carla was here because of the challenge he’d issued and she was stuck because he’d allowed himself to be distracted and had lowered his guard. There was only one solution, and it didn’t appeal in the slightest, but this was the price he had to pay for both his impulsivity and his carelessness.
‘You’d better come home with me.’
Carla went very still, her gaze jerking to his, the horror he saw there and on her face suggesting she was as keen on the idea as he was. ‘Oh, no, I really don’t think that’s necessary.’
‘You’ll be perfectly safe.’
She shook her head, her blonde hair shimmering beneath the twinkling lights distracting him for a moment. ‘That’s not it.’
‘Then what is it?’
‘I don’t much like being dependent on anyone,’ she said with a slight jut of her chin.
No, well, he could identify with that. ‘I don’t much like having anyone dependent on me, but we don’t have a choice.’
She stiffened and something flashed in the depths of her eyes. ‘I always have a choice.’
‘As I said, it’s high season. Everywhere decent will be full. There are areas of Venice you do not want to find yourself in, however briefly. It’s nearly midnight and you must be wiped out. I know I am.’ The exertions of today were taking their toll and his muscles were beginning to ache, so perhaps it was just as well he’d decided against seducing her, not that that was remotely relevant right now. ‘But you’re right. It is your choice. Here.’
Fishing his phone out of his jacket pocket, he put it on the table and pushed it towards her. For several long moments Carla just stared at it warily, as if it might be about to bite, and then she sighed and nudged it back towards him, her shoulders falling as she gave a brief nod.
‘All right,’ she said, looking impossibly weary and dejected, the smile she was trying to muster up weak. ‘Thank you.’
‘Things will look better in the morning,’ he said, not having a clue why he felt the need to reassure her but for some reason really disliking the way the fight had drained from her.