‘The people in the hotel.’
‘We’re not in the hotel. I’ve brought you to my home.’
She managed to open her eyes and realised that she didn’t recognise anything in her surroundings. Gone was the high, painted ceiling of the Empress Suite. There was no elaborate furniture or gilded decor, only a small, austerely furnished room, with wooden beams overhead. She was still in his arms and he was moving towards a door that he managed to pull open. With her eyes half closed she waited for him to lie her down. Instead she was set on her feet, and the next moment she was drenched in cold water.
She yelled with shock and made a feeble attempt to struggle, but he was holding her firmly to stop her falling.
‘I’m sorry,’ he yelled over the water, ‘but getting under the shower is the quickest way to cool you off.’
‘It’s freezing,’ she gasped.
‘All the better. Lift your head. Let it pour over your face and neck. Please, you’ll feel better.’
She did as he said. It felt good, insofar as anything could feel good at this moment. At last he turned the tap off and they stood there together, drenched and gasping.
‘Here’s the bath towel,’ he said. ‘I’ll leave you alone to get undressed.’ But as he loosened his grip she nearly fell again. ‘I’ll have to do it for you,’ he said.
‘Will you?’ she asked faintly.
He gritted his teeth. ‘I’ll force myself.’
He was very brave about it, loosening her buttons and slipping her dress off, then her sodden slip. Only her bra and panties were left.
‘You’ve got to remove those too or you’ll get pneumonia,’ he said, working on them. At last she was naked, and he towelled her down until she was almost dry, then wrapped her in the vast towel like a parcel, and sat her on the stool while he ripped off his own soaking shirt.
‘There’s no point in me making you wet again,’ he grunted, lifting her up.
This time he carried her into the bedroom and put her to bed, not unwrapping her until the last moment, then tucking the duvet up to her chin with his eyes averted.
‘Don’t worry about anything,’ he said gently. ‘It’s quiet here and you can recover in peace.’
The next moment his front doorbell buzzed. When he returned he was accompanied by a plump middle-aged woman.
‘This is Dr Valletti,’ he explained. ‘I called her on the way back. I want to be sure it isn’t serious.’
He left the room at once. Dr Valletti regarded her with something akin to exasperation.
‘You English! When will any of you learn to be sensible about the sun?’
‘We don’t have sunshine like this in England,’ she said weakly. ‘I did have a hat, but it blew away.’
‘So I understand. And water magnifies the sun’s rays. People with your fair colouring should stay covered up.’ She felt Dulcie’s forehead, took her temperature and asked a few questions before pronouncing, ‘You’re lucky he got you under that cold shower fast. Now a day’s rest in the cool will see off the worst. After that you take it easy for a while. You can go out, but only for a short time, and you cover up. Understand?’
‘Yes, but I can’t-’
‘I’ll leave these pills for your head. In summer I keep a supply on me, especially for the English. Goodbye now. Just do everything Gui-your friend tells you to. He’s very worried.’
Through the throbbing in her head Dulcie heard only ‘your friend’ and ‘very worried’. She lay back as the doctor departed, and vaguely sensed them talking behind the closed door. A few minutes later he entered the room, bearing a cup.
‘Tea,’ he announced, setting it down beside her. ‘To take your pills. Let me help you up.’
His arm was firm beneath her back, raising her gently and holding her against his shoulder while she sipped the tea, which was perfectly made.
‘You’ll be nice and cool now, because I’ve turned the air-conditioning on,’ he said as he laid her down again. ‘When I’ve gone, try to get some sleep. Nobody will bother you, I promise.’
He went to the window and closed the shutters, making the room almost dark. Then he was gone. Dulcie lay still, willing the pills to take effect, and at last they began to do so. Gradually her consciousness slipped away.
She didn’t know how much time had passed when she awoke. The light was dim because of the shutters. Her head was better but she still felt weak. His words, ‘Nobody will bother you, I promise,’ were there in her mind. He’d spoken them like a knight laying his sword on the bed between himself and his lady, a chivalrous vow of chastity.
It was a strange thought. This was the man she’d come here to expose as a liar and a cheap seducer. Yet he’d averted his eyes, as much as a man could avert his eyes from a woman he was undressing, and whatever her head might say, her heart instinctively trusted him.
She dozed, half awoke, dozed again, in the grip of a dream that seemed always to be with her, waking or sleeping. She was gliding, as if on an endless canal, but then suddenly she was falling endlessly. She reached out and felt her hand clasped by another which held her tightly, keeping her safe. With their fingers entwined she sensed all trouble fall away. Then she was gliding on again, and all about her was the sound of water and music, and happiness.
CHAPTER FIVE
SHE opened her eyes on total darkness. Her headache was gone and she felt light. Easing her way out of bed she discovered that she hadn’t yet recovered. It took all her strength to walk to the window and undo the shutters.
Outside was a world of calm shadows. It was dark, the only light coming from the moon seeking to penetrate the narrow canals below. This little apartment seemed to be in a backwater, with a narrow canal, or
Switching on the bedside light she saw that the bathrobe was now lying on the bed, although it hadn’t been there when she’d fallen asleep. When had he done that? She had no idea, but there was no doubt he’d entered the room and left it without disturbing her.
She realised that she was still more overheated than she’d thought, because the fire that had consumed her body earlier hadn’t quite died down. Either that or it was the knowledge that he’d looked at her while she was oblivious.
She slipped the cotton robe on and quietly opened the bedroom door. It led straight into a large living room, also in darkness except for moonlight. By its light she managed to identify the bathroom, and crept in, closing the door silently behind her.
The first thing she saw was her sodden clothes hanging over the bath, perfectly arranged, as if by an artist.
The sight of herself in the mirror was a shock. Her normal pale colour had given way to a pink that she didn’t find becoming. Under the bathrobe her shoulders felt tender, and a glimpse beneath it showed her the worst. The sun had burned her wherever it had touched.
‘So much for the temptress,’ she thought wryly. ‘Turning into a lobster wasn’t part of the plan.’
She splashed cold water on her face, but it didn’t do much for her. She’d used up a lot of strength just getting this far, and the journey back looked like a marathon.
Emerging from the bathroom she had a clear view of someone sleeping on the sofa. Since he was a tall man and it was a short sofa his discomfort was evident, even under the duvet that half covered him. Her face softened as she viewed him, wondering how long he’d been there, and what state he would be in when he awoke.
She began to make her way back to the bedroom, but it was hard because her remaining strength was seeping away fast. After a few steps she stopped, clinging onto a chair, breathing hard, her forehead damp. The next chair was three feet away. She began to plan how she would make it, short steps, sliding her feet along an inch at a
