Veretti’s Dark Vengeance

the chance to welcome you.’

‘Of course,’ she said politely. ‘I shall be very pleased to meet Antonio’s family.’

A silence fell between them. She leaned back, eyes closed, enjoying the sun on her face, and he watched her, wondering what she was thinking.

‘Helena…’

She looked up, meeting his gaze, meeting his thoughts, discovering them to be the same as her own. So intense was the experience that she could almost feel his hands on her body, touching it as it had never been touched before, as she’d never allowed it to be touched before.

Suddenly she was angry. How dared he make time and space disappear and take her into a new dimension just by looking at her? Who the hell did he think he was?

‘Helena-’

‘Yes?’ she asked glacially.

‘I’d like…’ He seemed to be having difficulty getting the words out. ‘I’d like to show you my boat, and explain something of what will happen at the festa. Perhaps tomorrow.’

‘I’m afraid it will have to be another day,’ she said. ‘I have people coming to the factory and-you know how it is…’

She fell silent.

‘Another time, then,’ he agreed.

‘In fact I should be getting back. I have a mass of work to do. I look forward to the festa.’

She rose, gave him a brilliant smile, and walked away.

He watched her go, wondering at the ease with which she could tangle his thoughts and sap his will. She’d just informed him that the next move would be hers, and she would make him wait for it.

Another new experience.

CHAPTER EIGHT

FOR two days it was a stand-off, both knowing what the next move of the game must be, both wondering who would crack first.

Going through the hotel lobby one morning, Helena was hailed by the young man at the information desk.

‘You joined the tourist trip to Larezzo, signora. I thought you might be interested in the trip to Perroni. It will depart in ten minutes.’

She’d been about to head for Murano anyway. Now an imp of mischief prompted her to say, ‘This is Wednesday, isn’t it? Hm!’

‘Does that make a difference, signora?’

It did. She knew that Salvatore was always at the factory on Wednesdays.

‘No, not at all,’ she said. ‘Yes, I’d like to join the trip.’

She called Emilio, explaining that she wouldn’t be there today, and went out to join the others on the boat. She was smiling as they sped across the lagoon.

She had to admit that Salvatore’s factory was impressive. Larger than Larezzo, it had all the most modern equipment, so their guide assured them.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a couple of the workmen nudge each other, staring in her direction. Salvatore would know of her presence within a few minutes.

‘This is the new oven, delivered only two months ago,’ the guide declared. ‘It’s state-of-the-art, and none of our competitors has one.’

‘But I dare say Larezzo will have one by tomorrow,’ said a voice behind Helena.

She turned and saw Salvatore, looking amused.

‘Doing a little industrial spying?’ he asked, taking her arm. ‘You should have told me. I’d have arranged to give you a personal guided tour.’

‘It seemed better to do it in secret,’ she said demurely. ‘I thought if I came on Wednesday you’d never know.’

His cynical glance told her that he wasn’t fooled.

‘As a secret agent you have a lot to learn,’ he observed. ‘Come with me.’

For the next two hours he gave her the grand tour, taking her to every part of the factory, explaining everything in detail. He didn’t seem worried that she might steal his professional secrets, and when she saw the advanced state of his machinery she could understand why.

Emilio had explained that Larezzo had lacked investment during the last few years. Without actually saying that Antonio had wasted the profits self-indulgently he’d told her enough to make it clear. The factory had survived so far because its product was the best, but it needed more money lavished on it. As things stood, Salvatore had nothing to fear from Larezzo, and she had no doubt that he knew that.

But that was going to change, she resolved.

‘Thank you,’ she said at last. ‘I’ve learned a lot. Now I must go away and think.’

‘Found any useful ideas to steal?’ he asked lightly.

She laughed. ‘Any ideas worth stealing are well locked away from my prying eyes,’ she observed. ‘Do you think I didn’t know that?’

‘No, I never underestimate you.’

‘I’ve seen one or two things I could improve on.’

‘Only one or two?’ he asked in a tone of shock. ‘Surely you can do better than that? Have dinner with me tonight, and we can talk some more. And give me your cell-phone number. You’re turning into such a dangerous character that I may need to keep tabs on you.’

‘Likewise.’

They exchanged numbers and he named the restaurant, the same one where they had eaten last time.

‘I’ll meet you there,’ Helena said thoughtfully. ‘There are too many gossips in the hotel.’

‘Agreed.’

‘I must be going.’

‘I’m afraid your party has left without you. I’ll call for a boat.’

‘No. Since I’m here in Murano I’ll drop in on my own factory-just to make sure it hasn’t crumbled yet,’ she finished satirically.

She walked the short distance to Larezzo, sunk in thought. Her employees saw her coming and scuttled out of the way, since it was obvious that she noticed nothing but what was in her head. When she came back to the real world she was in her office and Emilio was looking at her anxiously.

‘I’ve come to a decision,’ she said. ‘First I must make an urgent phone call, and then-’ she chuckled ‘-then I’ll tell you all about it.’

Salvatore went to the restaurant prepared for fireworks, and intrigued to know what form they would take. Life without Helena was intolerably dull, and he was ready for anything. When she was late he began to suspect. Even so, she managed to surprise him.

The text message that reached his cell phone was simple.

‘Regret can’t make it. Work calls. Will be in office. Helen of Troy.’

Salvatore regarded the words with a wry smile, feeling both intrigued and entertained. She might simply have signed it ‘Helena.’ That she’d chosen Helen of Troy conveyed a message, one that was reinforced by her statement that she would be in her office. There was no need for her to tell him that, unless…

He made a quick call home to make sure that his motor boat was ready, and almost ran back to the palazzo. Ten minutes later he was speeding across the lagoon to Murano.

There was a light on upstairs and he found a door open at the back. Slipping inside, he followed the light above, until he heard something that made him pause.

A man was talking.

He’d expected to find her alone. Now he wondered if she really was working after all, perhaps entertaining