She’d slept solidly for hours, sliding out of consciousness so abruptly it had startled him. One minute she’d been a curious mix of fire and fragility and the next she’d been out for the count. So deeply asleep, so still, that he’d worried she wasn’t merely sleeping.
But when he’d put his fingers on the silky skin of her wrist he’d felt her even pulse. Nevertheless, every half hour or so he’d risen from the armchair beside her bed, where he’d dealt with a slew of business messages, to check she was breathing.
Obviously she had some self-serving reason for coming to his home. He suspected her supposed memory loss was a crafty ploy for sympathy. Yet she reallywasinjured and a blow to the head could be dangerous. The doctor had been infuriatingly non-specific after his first visit, promising an update on his return.
Rosetta had offered to sit with Alexa but Angelo had rejected the idea. He, personally, would keep an eye on her.
Finally the doctor emerged and Angelo led the way downstairs to his study.
‘A drink?’
The doctor shook his head, sinking into a leather chair. ‘Not with this storm still raging. I could be called out in the night. Now, about Ms Barrett...’
Angelo listened as the doctor talked at length about the woman ensconced in one of the guest suites. Listened with amazement.
‘You mean it could be true? She could really have lost her memory?’
The other man frowned, his grave eyes piercing. ‘You have some reason to suspect it’s not true?’
Angelo paused. The doctor had only been on the island a few years, after Alexa’s time here, and neither Angelo nor his staff had spoken about her since. As far as he knew there was no gossip about her on the island.
‘I do. I knew her years ago. She wasn’t trustworthy.’
‘I see. But to fake amnesia...’ He paused. ‘It’s possible. But that would be an extreme step.’
No more extreme than the lies Alexa had told before. The extreme lengths she’d gone to in order to get what she wanted.
‘Amnesia isn’t common but it’s consistent with her injury.’ The doctor paused. ‘You mentioned that Ms Barrett understands Italian.’
‘She does.’
‘Fascinating. She appears not to understand Italian now.’ Did Angelo imagine an emphasis on the wordappears? ‘I must do some research and consult some colleagues.’
‘Colleagues? Won’t it be more efficient to move her to a mainland hospital?’
Then she’d be someone else’s problem. Angelo suspected her convenient amnesia would probably dissipate then.
‘No, no. That’s not possible. Not with this weather. Did you hear about the chopper crash near Naples a few hours ago? Air ambulance is out and as for going by sea...’
The doctor looked towards the full-length windows. In the darkness beyond the wind screeched like the undead.
There’d be no sea crossing tonight or, if the forecast was correct, for a couple of days. This catastrophic storm, descending out of a clear spring day, was being described as one of the most destructive in living memory.
Which made him wonder again how Alexa had got to his private beach. No local would have brought her.
‘She’s best here, where she can rest quietly.’ The doctor glanced around. ‘It’s good that you’ve got space to house her comfortably, and I’ll come over regularly to check on her.’
‘You want her to stayhere?’
The other man’s lips pursed. No doubt he thought Angelo was being uncharitable, not wanting to house an injured woman. But the doctor knew nothing of the woman’s character. The thought of keeping her under his roof indefinitely...
‘It’s not ideal. But we must do the best we can in the circumstances.’
His stare hardened as if he expected Angelo to dispute that, but Angelo was a practical man. He understood that, for now there was no other option.
‘Of course. She’ll be well looked after.’
‘I knew I could rely on you. Take heart, any memory loss is likely to be short-term. A few hours, maybe a few days.’