experience when she put on the new underwear, feeling it move softly against her skin. It was designed for sexual enticement, to persuade a man to remove it, and Holly could feel it mysteriously transforming her. Only a certain kind of woman could wear this underwear. She was wearing it. Therefore she was that woman. The logic of it was perfect.

‘I’m going crazy,’ she murmured, trying to clear her head. ‘This place is getting to me. Or perhaps it’s the heat.’

Already at this early hour, she could sense the promise of the searing-hot day to come. It hadn’t been like that before she got into the train. In the little town that she’d fled the weather had been warm but benign. It was only now that the heatwave had descended, so that even the early hours glowed with the anticipation of the furnace to come.

The judge made only a brief appearance at breakfast, but when he left the table she followed him to his study. He was putting papers into his briefcase.

‘I’m in a hurry,’ he said, without looking up. ‘Is it urgent?’

‘It is to me,’ she said firmly, advancing into the room. ‘I received my clothes from the store but…’

It had been so easy when she’d rehearsed the speech, but face to face with this cool, ruthless man, her nerve gave way. How could she ever have imagined she could discuss her underwear with him?

‘It contains more than I ordered,’ she managed to say.

He shrugged. ‘You didn’t order enough. I appreciate your attempt at economy but it was needless.’

‘But I can’t allow you to-’

Signorina, the question of you allowing me to do anything does not arise, since you’re in no position to stop me.’

‘That’s right, rub my nose in it.’

Scusi? Rub your nose?’

‘It’s an English expression. It means that you’re making me feel helpless. I don’t like it.’

‘Most women don’t object when a man buys them clothes,’ he said, sounding a little bored.

‘That depends on the clothes. I do object to you buying me underwear. We don’t have the kind of relationship that…’

Seething, she fell silent. He was regarding her with eyebrows raised satirically.

‘There’s more than one kind of relationship,’ he said. ‘If you’re afraid that I shall try to “take advantage” I believe is the term, you need not be.’

He said the last few words with a slow, savage emphasis that chilled her. He was reminding her of his recent bereavement, saying that if she thought she could interest him she flattered herself. Embarrassment held her silent.

‘If there’s nothing more…’ he said.

‘I also think you should return my passport. Being without it makes me feel like a prisoner.’

‘That is nonsense,’ he said calmly. ‘If you want to leave you have only to contact the British Consul and ask for their help. You’ll be provided with an identity card that will get you back to England. Here’s the address.’

He scribbled on a sheet of paper and handed it to her.

‘If you wish I can call them now and use all my influence to ensure that things are made smooth for you.’

It was all true, Holly realised. She could do exactly what he had described. But all this reasonableness didn’t dispel her suspicions. The reference to his influence sounded helpful but was actually a subtle reminder that he was in control here, even when it didn’t look like it.

The time had come to stand up for herself.

‘Well, maybe I’ll go to the consulate today,’ she said firmly.

‘I’ll order the car for you.’

‘No, thank you, I’ll make my own way there.’

‘Then I’ll call a taxi.’ With a touch of exasperation he added, ‘Or would you prefer to walk several miles?’

‘If necessary,’ she retorted, in a fury.

He groaned. ‘Enough of this. Must we have these trials of strength?’

‘Maybe your strength alarms me.’

‘Have the honesty to admit that I’ve exercised it in your defence.’

‘Because I’m useful to you.’

‘Certainly you are, just as I am useful to you. The best bargains are those where both sides gain.’

Everything he said made perfect sense, and she would have liked to thump him for it.

‘But I wouldn’t dream of detaining you against your will,’ he added. ‘Go if you want to.’

She was saved from having to answer by the door opening and a small head peering round.

‘Can I come in, Poppa?’

‘Of course.’ He rose and went to the door, giving his arm to help Liza walk.

‘I was looking for Holly.’

‘Well, here she is.’

Liza pulled herself free from her father to limp forward at a run.

‘You vanished,’ she said in a tense voice. ‘I thought you’d gone away for ever and ever.’

And that was her nightmare, Holly realised, conscience-stricken.

‘No, darling,’ she said, dropping to her knees so that she could meet Liza’s eyes on a level. ‘I just came to talk to your father. I’m sorry, I should have told you first, so that you didn’t worry. I haven’t gone away.’

She pulled Liza towards her in a bear hug, and found herself almost suffocated in the returning embrace.

‘And you won’t, will you?’ Liza begged.

The decision was already made. Liza was the one who had first championed her, and now she owed the little girl a debt. Going to the consulate would have to wait.

She looked up at the judge, expecting to see an expression of cool triumph, or even indifference at a victory he would have taken for granted.

But there was something else there. Instead of assurance, there was apprehension. Instead of authority, she saw pleading.

That must be a mistake. Not pleading. Not this man who had her in his power.

But it was in his eyes and the taut lines of his whole body. Her decision mattered to him desperately, and he was full of terrible tension waiting for it.

‘No, I won’t go away,’ she said. ‘I’ll stay as long as you want me.’

‘For ever and ever?’ Liza asked.

‘For ever and ever.’

‘I think it’s time I was leaving for work,’ he said in a voice that sounded strained.

‘Come on,’ Holly said, laying a hand on Liza’s shoulder and shepherding her out of the room.

There were still battles to be fought, but this wasn’t the time or place.

CHAPTER FOUR

DESPITE her troubles, Holly found it easy to settle into the life of the villa, which seemed to open its arms to welcome her. Everything was done for her comfort. The maid cleaned her room and made her bed, leaving her free to spend her time with Liza.

Nothing mattered but the little girl who had clung to her so desperately on the train, weeping as though her heart would break. As she had guessed, Liza’s spirits were volatile. She could be happy one minute and tearful the next. Even worse were the fits of screaming that would overtake her without warning.

‘I nursed her in hospital,’ Berta explained. ‘When she was ready to leave she still needed care at home, and they thought I’d be best because she was used to me. She’s a sweet child, but I can’t cope with her outbursts. They’re alarming because they seem to come out of nowhere.’

‘But really they come out of her tragedy,’ Holly suggested. ‘To lose her mother like that-the train crash, her injury…She must still be suffering a lot.’

‘To be sure. I understand it well enough,’ Berta agreed. ‘I just don’t seem to be any help to her. I put my arms

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