‘Don’t go inside. Don’t talk to anyone. Put the phone down and come to the gate.’ He paused. ‘If you’re not here in seven minutes your lover will pay. That’s a promise.’
The line went dead.
She snatched in a breath so sharp it felt as if she’d swallowed a razor. She lifted her head, but her eyes swam so much she couldn’t make out anything but bright sunlight.
Ida jumped when the phone clattered onto the table.
She dragged in a breath, then another.
She couldn’t go to her grandfather. Shecouldn’t!
If she gave herself up to him, she’d never escape again. He’d use her in some new scheme and keep his claws in her for ever.Afterhe’d meted out his vengeance for running away and spoiling his plans.
Ida felt hollow inside, except for the crushing weight pressing onto her chest.
Her one dream in all these years was to be free. Finally, after her marriage, she’d achieved that. Each day had felt glorious despite the drab routine of poverty and grinding, poorly paid work. Despite the fear that kept her in hiding.
So you weren’t really free, were you? He was still dictating your life, even when he didn’t know where you were. Because you lived in fear.
Ida rubbed a hand across aching eyes. She’d fought so hard for self-determination. How could she bear to give that up?
Because the alternative is to allow them to kill the man you love.
Ida slumped, boneless, against the table.
Strangely there was no shock at the revelation she loved Cesare.
It had been at the back of her consciousness for a while now. Even if it hadn’t, a moment like this, of life-or-death danger, provided instant clarity.
After a lifetime learning not to trust men, especially wealthy, powerful men, she’d fallen for Cesare Brunetti heart and soul. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.
The mostwonderfulthing in the world. Cesare mightn’t love her, but he’d rescued her from that sterile place where her soul had been locked. He’d brought her to life. He’d given her freedom and safety, joy, pleasure and a heady sense of hope.
The thought of him injured, dying...
Ida found herself walking on trembling legs into the garden. The rich scent of jasmine cloyed, turning rancid, as she imagined Cesare’s car crumpled under a massive truck. Of his office blown apart by a bomb.
Her breath came in a gasping sob, and she slapped her palm over her mouth, lest Dorotea hear.
Ida forced back her shoulders and stepped onto the grass. With each pace her steps grew firmer.
She refused to allow the blackness that had shadowed her life to injure Cesare more than it had already.
She had no illusions. Fausto would punish her for what she’d done. She knew too that she took a gamble. There was no certainty he’d keep his word. Cesare could still be in danger.
But the alternative, to disobey,knowingCesare would suffer...
Ida quickened her pace. It was a long way to the security gates. She couldn’t be late.
‘What do you mean,gone?’
Cesare scowled at the dark clouds closing in outside his window as he barked into the phone.
‘She walked out,’ Lorenzo explained. ‘Dorotea said she took a call from a friend, a man. Ten minutes later she’d simply disappeared. Didn’t even go back into the villa to get her purse.’
‘A man? What man?’
None of this made sense. When Cesare had taken Ida back to the villa, she’d talked about relaxing for a while. He’d promised to be back late this afternoon and her slow smile had ratcheted up his libido. As if they hadn’t spent last night sating a desire that seemed unquenchable.