had been, they were long gone.
Except for one. A dog who came trotting out of an alley and stood in the middle of the street looking at her.
So where do you belong? Maddie wondered as she halted too. Because you’re obviously not starving. So—take me to your master.
And then she looked again, and the beginning of her smile faded as she realised exactly what she was seeing. As she recognised the size of the animal. Its colour and weight. And, most tellingly, the shape of its muzzle.
Remembering as she did so, the picture over the fireplace back at the house and its savage subject, here and now confronting her in the flesh.
Oh God, she whispered silently. Oh God help me.
She took a cautious, shaky step backwards, then another while the wolf watched her, unmoving, the yellow eyes intent.
A voice in her head was telling her to be steady—be calm. That she had a stick to defend herself and the last thing she should do was turn and run.
On which, she dropped the stick, turned blindly and ran, cannoning into the hard, strong body standing right behind her. Feeling muscular arms go round her, grasping her firmly. Inexorably.
‘So Maddalena,’ said Andrea Valieri with soft satisfaction. ‘We are together again at last. What a delight.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
SHE COULD NOT even feel surprise. Just a trembling sense of the inevitable.
As he held her, she was aware of the scent of his warm clean skin, mingled with the musky fragrance of the cologne he used.
She felt something unfold inside her like the opening of a flower and began to struggle all the more, beating at his chest with clenched fists. But it was like trying to push over that damned mountain and his grip on her did not relax for an instant.
‘Let go of me.’ She gasped the words frantically. ‘Oh God, can’t you see? Are you blind or just crazy? There’s a wolf...’
‘There was,’ he said. ‘It has gone now.’ He turned her to look back down an empty street. ‘See?’
She saw. Realised also that she had escaped one predator only to fall back into the power of another, and that she had been living in a fool’s paradise during these past few hours to think she could really get free of him. That he would not find her.
The Count held her at arm’s length, surveying her frowningly. ‘Santa Madonna, what have you done to yourself?’
She could well ask him the same, she thought, dressed as she’d never seen him before in cord pants and long boots, and wearing what appeared to be a canvas jacket with an array of pockets over a dark shirt.
She lifted her chin defiantly. ‘I had an accident. There was a snake hanging from a tree right in front of me, and I was terrified so I ran, and fell down a slope.’
He said tersely, ‘My sympathies are entirely with the snake. Have you injured yourself?’
‘Just my ankle.’ Trying to run had been stupid and the joint was throbbing badly now.
He said something under his breath, then reached for her, swinging her up into his arms and carrying her towards one of the crumbling houses.
She began to struggle again. ‘Put me down.’
‘Basta! Be still.’ It was an order not a request, and she subsided unwillingly against the strength of him.
As they neared the house, she saw that, unlike its neighbours, it had a door, even if it was no longer attached, but merely propped against an outside wall.
And as he carried her inside, she discovered it was furnished in a rudimentary manner with a table, two chairs, a sink served by a single tap, a fireplace and a decrepit stove. Also that, at the rear, an archway half-covered by a ragged curtain led to another room, equipped even more basically with a mattress on the floor.
She also noticed a large, serviceable backpack leaning against the wall, and next to it, a long case that quite clearly contained a gun.
He placed her on a chair and went down on one knee. ‘Let me see your ankle.’
She jerked her foot backwards, stifling an instinctive cry of pain. ‘Don’t touch me.’
He gave her a long icy look. ‘Attempting to escape was the act of a fool. Why compound your stupidity by refusing help that you clearly need?’
Oh, don’t let him guess the reason. Please—please don’t let him guess...
For a moment, she was silent, then she nodded as if defeated, and sat back, hurriedly dragging her torn skirt together over her bare thigh