‘As grateful to you as I am for bringing us together.’
‘Don’t start painting me as a noble loser,’ he begged.
‘A noble, generous loser.’
‘Olympia,
She laughed and it was charming, but his heart was safe. He hung up, feeling relaxed.
He stripped and went into the shower to scrub the police cell off. Now his thoughts were all of the coming battle, and how he should confront Signora Minerva. She had surprised him by being younger, prettier than his mental picture. Yet instinct told him that she was also more formidable and totally unpredictable.
Now he recalled something from early that morning. When Minnie had swept out of the cell on her way to his hotel, he and Charlie had been left to talk things over, and Charlie had said, ‘Minnie and my brother Gianni adored each other. She hasn’t been the same since he died.’
‘She’s a widow?’ he’d said, surprised, for there was something about her air of glowing life that hadn’t made him think of a widow.
‘Has been for four years. And it’s not for lack of offers. All the men are after her.’ He’d sighed. ‘Including me.’
‘You’re just a kid.’
‘That’s what she says. Not that it would make much difference if I weren’t. I’m not Gianni. Gianni was everything. When he died, she died.’
It had meant little at the time, but now he tried to connect that picture with the vibrant, lovely woman he’d encountered since, and it was no use. It didn’t fit. The surface denied the reality. Or maybe the other way around. How did a man tell?
Mentally he set that down on his plan of campaign. It could be very useful.
Even if he hadn’t known where the Residenza was Luke would have spotted the party from a great distance. The courtyard was glowing, lights were on all over the building and more light poured out into the street.
He was reminded of the Villa Rinucci in Naples, his home for many years now, ever since Hope, his adoptive mother, had married Toni Rinucci. It stood high on a hill, and at night its lamps could be seen for miles inland and out to sea.
He had always loved the place. Even after he’d moved out to his own apartment in Naples, he’d looked up the hill at night before going to bed, and the sight had warmed his heart.
There was a wide gulf between the luxurious villa and this down-at-heel tenement, and it was disconcerting to have the same feeling here as he found at home.
It was the lights, he told himself reasonably. Light always created the illusion of warmth and friendliness, and he wasn’t going to start being sentimental about it.
But there was also the laughter and the sound of welcoming voices, and these, too, spoke of home, so that when he entered the Residenza he was smiling.
Behind him came the taxi driver, puffing under the weight of Luke’s contribution to the party. When Netta called down to him from an upstairs window he indicated the cases of beer and wine. Cheers broke out above and the stairs shook under the pounding of feet. Several young men burst out into the courtyard, scooped up the cases and Luke with them. In moments he was upstairs, being embraced by Netta, who screamed joyfully in his ear, making him wince.
He’d met all the family briefly that morning, but now he met them again. Alessandro, Benito, Gasparo-all Charlie’s brothers-plus Netta’s brother Matteo, his wife Angelina and their five children. Netta’s husband Tomaso slapped him on the back, hailing him as a saviour, and various other uncles and aunts clamoured for his attention, until he thought the little apartment would burst at the seams.
He couldn’t see Minnie but in the crowded room it was hard to be sure, so he looked again, and then again. But there was no sign of her. He found himself curious to know how she would dress for this party.
Charlie bounded up to him, offering a drink.
‘Thanks, but I’m sticking to orange juice,’ he said. ‘I’m not taking any risks tonight.’
‘Go on, have a beer.’
‘Don’t press him, Charlie,’ said a female voice. ‘He doesn’t want to end up burdened with you again.’
It was her. How long had she been standing there? When had she come in?
She was dressed with a flamboyance that surprised him. He’d never pictured her in trousers, but there they were, dark purple, fitting snugly over her hips, topped off with a silk blouse of extravagant pink. The effect was stunning.
Her fair hair was drawn back off her face, emphasising her delicate bone structure and fair skin, and she might have been a different person from the austere advocate of the morning.
‘Thanks for coming to save me,’ he said.
She laughed directly into his face. At five foot four inches she had to look up to him, but she still gave an impression of looking him in the eye, he realised.
‘I reckon two doses of Charlie in one day is more than the strongest man should be asked to bear,’ she said. ‘Let me get you an orange juice.’
She fetched it, then had to turn to look after another guest. He watched her, unwillingly impressed by her neat, shapely figure. It was hard to reconcile this flaming creature with the woman Charlie had described, who’d died with her husband. There was something there he couldn’t work out, something mysterious and intriguing.
The room was filling up as more guests arrived. Some of them gave him curious looks, and he guessed the news of his identity had gone around. He became lost in a maze of introductions. Every girl there wanted to flirt with him, and when someone put on some music there was dancing.
In such a small place it seemed impossible that anyone could dance, but they managed it. Luke plunged in with every sign of enjoyment, although he was actually growing tired after so long without sleep. But not for the world would he pass up the chance to win over his tenants, thus making them easier to deal with and, incidentally, giving himself the great pleasure of making Signora Minerva nervous.
At last he had a free moment just as Minnie was passing.
‘You can’t just go like that,’ he said, grasping her hand. ‘You and I have to dance with each other.’
‘Have to?’
‘Of course. When two countries are at war it’s customary to mark a truce by having the two heads of state dance together.’
‘I believe that only happens when the war’s actually over.’
‘Then we’ll set a precedent,’ he said, putting an arm about her waist.
Minnie might have demurred longer, but someone collided with her, pushing her closer to him.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Just for the look of the thing.’
‘You’re all graciousness.’
Glancing up, she found him regarding her with a look that was half irony and half an invitation to share the joke. Drat him, she thought, for having a kind of fierce attractiveness that could get under her guard, even if just for a moment.
‘How are you feeling now?’ she asked.
‘More human. A lot poorer.’
‘You wait until you see my bill. That really will make you feel poor.’
‘And Charlie’s,’ he reminded her.
‘You don’t think I’d charge Charlie, do you? He’s my brother-in-law.’
He shook his head in despair for her.
‘Why did you tell me that? You should have charged me over the odds for him and put the money into a fund for repairs.’
‘Yes, I don’t make much of a schemer, do I?’ she agreed ruefully.
‘You prefer to confront the foe full-on, rather than plot behind his back. Brave but foolhardy.’
‘Plotting isn’t my style. Besides, I’ve slain a good few foes in my time.’
‘Is that a threat or a challenge?’
‘Work it out.’
Minnie wished the room were a little less crowded so that she wasn’t crushed so hard against his body. She’d seen that every woman in the place admired him, and there was something in that consciousness that infiltrated
