popular explanation is rather less romantic than the name suggests. The bridge used to lead to the state prison, and crossing it would often be a prisoner’s last view of Venice.’
Jess sighed. ‘I feel guilty sightseeing when Angelo is stuck in hospital.’
‘You have visited him every day for the past few weeks, and I know how much he appreciates your company. Angelo would not begrudge you some free time,’ Drago insisted.
‘But I shouldn’t have free time. I should be at home, running my business.’ Jess chewed her bottom lip with her teeth—something she unconsciously did when she was anxious. ‘I know that when I phoned Mike he said everything is fine, and that he had secured a new contract for T&J Decorators to refurbish a commercial property, but I need to go back and take charge. My company means everything to me. It’s the only thing I’ve ever succeeded at,’ she admitted ruefully.
‘Once Angelo’s memory has returned you will be free to leave.’
Drago’s smile was full of easy charm but his tone was uncompromising, and Jess’s spirits plummeted with the realisation that he still suspected she had some involvement with his cousin’s missing inheritance fund. And in truth she was still his prisoner, for she never went anywhere without either him or his bodyguard Fico to accompany her. On a couple of occasions during the first week of her stay she had attempted to slip away from the bodyguard. It had crossed her mind that if she explained her situation to one of the nurses at the hospital they might help her. But none that she had met spoke English, Fico had followed her doggedly, and she still had the problem of no passport or money.
Jess pushed away the uncomfortable thought that she had not tried harder to leave Venice because she was captivated by her affair with Drago. His hunger for her showed no sign of abating. But aside from their mutual desire for one another a sense of companionship, even friendship, had unexpectedly developed between them. He had given her several guided tours of Venice, and Jess loved wandering around the city with him, exploring the narrow streets and the many charming piazzas. She visited Angelo every day while Drago was at work. Usually he met her at the hospital in the evening, and after spending some time with his cousin they would return to the palazzo or go for dinner at a restaurant—the Trattoria Marisa being their favourite place to eat.
‘How was Angelo today?’
‘He still has a bad headache.’ She frowned as her thoughts returned to Angelo. ‘It has lasted for three days now, and your aunt is very concerned.’
Dorotea had admitted as much. After spending endless days cooped up with her in the small hospital room Angelo’s mother had thawed slightly towards Jess, and had even thanked her for her efforts to help her son. Drago’s mother was also friendlier, but once or twice Jess had been aware of Luisa’s speculative glance, and she had a feeling that Luisa knew she was sleeping with her son.
‘I’ll speak to the consultant about him—’ Drago broke off and smiled at a small child who had toddled over from where his parents were sitting at a nearby table.
The little boy was about two years old, Jess estimated, and utterly adorable, with a halo of blond curls and big blue eyes. He seemed to be intrigued by Drago, and grinned as he waved the sticky ice-cream cone he was holding.
‘No, Josh!’ The child’s mother hurried over just as the toddler smeared ice-cream over Drago’s superbly tailored trousers. ‘I’m so sorry…’ she said in English.
Drago interrupted her frantic apology with a laugh. ‘Don’t worry. He’s an angelic-looking child,’ he said, in a soft tone that captured Jess’s attention.
‘He can be a little terror,’ the woman said ruefully. She glanced at Jess. ‘You know what they’re like at two—into everything.’
She nodded at the woman and smiled back, trying to ignore the knife-blade that sliced through her heart. What had Katie been like at two years old? she wondered. Had she been ‘into everything’? She would never know, and the reminder of all she had lost was an ache inside her that never went away.
The woman picked up the little boy and carried him back to her table. ‘Cute kid,’ Drago commented as he attempted to clean his trousers with a napkin.
‘I’ve noticed that Italians really seem to love children,’ Jess said musingly. ‘Have you never wanted to marry and have children?’
‘I’m happy with my life the way it is.’
Puzzled by the sudden curtness in his voice, Jess studied him curiously. ‘You were so gentle with that little boy. I think you would make a great father.’
‘Madonna! Can we drop the subject?’ he snapped. ‘My personal life is not up for discussion.’
Jess felt a flare of irritation at his arrogant tone. ‘Why not?’ she demanded. ‘I’ve told you things about me and what happened with Seb. Why don’t you want to talk about yourself?’
He made no response, and the hard gleam in his eyes warned her to back off, but Jess refused to be dismissed. She knew she meant nothing to Drago, but the reminder that he only wanted a sexual relationship with her hurt more than it should.
‘Maybe you’re hiding some terrible secret?’ she taunted.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
His mouth tightened, and to Jess’s surprise he seemed uncomfortable. She sensed there was something in his past that he wanted to keep hidden. Was it a woman? He had a reputation as a playboy, but perhaps he’d once had a relationship that had been important to him. The idea evoked a sharp stab of jealousy inside her.
‘Have you ever been in love?’ she blurted out.
His eyes narrowed and his impatience was tangible, but after a few moments he shrugged and admitted tautly, ‘Once. A long time ago.’
Jess caught her breath. ‘What happened?’
‘Nothing happened. The relationship ended and I grew up. It was an educational experience,’ he said, with heavy irony that made Jess even more intrigued. It sounded as though he had been hurt, and she guessed he had not wanted his relationship with the woman he had loved to end. She longed to ask him more questions, but he did not give her the opportunity as he glanced at his watch and stood up.
‘I’m going to the hospital to talk to the doctor about Angelo’s headaches,’ he said abruptly. ‘Fico will take you back to the palazzo. The party is due to start at eight o’clock tonight.’ He made an effort to lighten his tone. ‘I’m sure you will want to spend some time getting ready. I appreciate that you have agreed to act as my hostess. This dinner party is an annual event attended by senior management staff from Cassa di Cassari’s worldwide operation. My mother and aunt usually attend, but this year they naturally wish to devote their time to Angelo.’
‘No problem,’ Jess said in a fiercely bright voice.
She was determined not to let him see how hurt she felt by his refusal to talk about himself, and equally determined to hide the fact that she was feeling nervous about her role as hostess at the party. Drago had assured her that most of the guests would be able to speak English, but what on earth did a decorator have in common with high-flying businessmen and company executives from the world famous Cassa di Cassari? she thought anxiously.
As she stood up she was overcome by an unpleasant sensation that the pavement beneath her feet was tilting, and she gripped the edge of the table.
‘What’s the matter?’ Drago asked, frowning as he watched the rosy pink flush on her cheeks fade so that she looked ashen.
‘I just feel a bit dizzy. It’ll pass in a minute.’
He looked unconvinced. ‘I hope you’re not coming down with something. You felt dizzy when you got up this morning.’
‘It’s nothing.’ Jess dismissed his concern, not revealing that she had waited until he had left for work before she had rushed to