From Venice with Love. Alison Roberts
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gave his head a sharp shake. And then he held out his hand. ‘Dr Nicholas Moretti,’ he told her. ‘Nico. We’ve met before. Twice, in fact. At St Margaret’s Hospital in London. And that night at The Cosmopolitan Club. It was a few years ago now…’ His voice trailed off. He was frowning and still staring as if he could barely recognise her. As if he couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing.
Well…no surprises there. He was talking about a lifetime ago. She’d been a different person then.
A person she couldn’t afford to be reminded of because it would only make this situation even worse. How incredibly unfortunate was this? To not only lose the protection she depended on but to meet someone who had known her back then? Before…
Before her life had turned so sharply it had virtually doubled back on itself to take the path she was now on.
For just a moment Charlotte could remember what it had been like at that crossroad.
She could feel the fear.
She didn’t remember meeting him. Oh…she’d felt the beat of familiarity when she’d seen him. She probably would remember him if she allowed her mind to go back to that time. To when she’d been the rising star of a prestigious London hospital and her academic brilliance had been enough to erase the shadows of a painfully shy youth. To when she’d had the world at her feet and she had been courted by albeit distant royalty and wined and dined at places like The Cosmopolitan Club.
A time that it hadn’t even occurred to her that she might be reminded of today.
Not only reminded of but stripped of any protection she would normally have to ward it off. How long had it been since she’d felt this vulnerable?
To Charlotte’s absolute horror, she could actually feel the prickle of tears at the back of her eyes. Tears that could unleash weakness that might undo her completely. She blinked. Hard. She dragged her gaze away from yet another expression she could read in this man’s eyes. He had such an open face. He was probably a very nice person but she didn’t need anyone to be concerned about her.
She could look after herself. And succeed. She’d learned that long ago.
A police officer had come to stand beside them. This man who had an Italian name that matched his looks but who, curiously, spoke perfect English with an Irish accent, translated his query.
‘He wants to know if you need assistance of any kind.’
A snort of something akin to laughter escaped Charlotte. She alone was the only person who could provide the kind of assistance she needed right now. Unless by some miracle a police diving team could be available within seconds and an even more impressive miracle would reveal a laptop that could survive total submersion.
But a rapid conversation in Italian led to the police officer nodding and indicating, with a wave of his arm, that Charlotte should follow him.
Nick was also following. ‘He’s going to take us to the symposium venue,’ he said briskly. ‘In the police launch. It will only take a few minutes.’
Charlotte looked down at her ruined clothes. She couldn’t appear anywhere looking like this.
‘We will explain what’s happened.’ His hand was on her arm, guiding her through the crowd that was only now dispersing properly. ‘Please let me help if I can. I feel responsible for this unfortunate turn of events and I will do anything I can to put things right. Perhaps they can rearrange the order of the presentations. And do you have a back-up of your material?’
Having a man step in and try and solve this problem was the last thing Charlotte needed.
‘Of course I do. It’s on a flash drive.’
‘Which is where?’
Charlotte focused as the police officer offered her a hand to step into the speed boat. She ignored the hand, climbed aboard unaided and then turned back.
She had to speak through gritted teeth. ‘It’s in the side pocket of the laptop case that you threw into the canal.’
It was a totally unjustified accusation in the wake of an obvious accident. It was also an undeserved slap in the face given that he was trying so hard to help.
But Charlotte didn’t care. She couldn’t afford to.
‘Please don’t concern yourself any further.’ She turned away and nodded to the pilot of the boat, who revved the engine. Waved at him imperiously enough to indicate that speed was of the essence and it was time to leave. ‘This is my problem and I will deal with it.’
Nico watched the police launch speed away down the canal.
He could walk to the venue in only a few minutes longer than the boat trip would take. He hadn’t actually told her that he was booked to attend the symposium himself so he couldn’t really take offence that he hadn’t been invited to share the ride.
Besides…he needed a few minutes to try and get his head around this extraordinary development.
She might not remember him but he remembered Charlotte Highton very well indeed. He’d been looking forward to seeing what that dynamic young doctor was like further down the track of her brilliant career.
Not that she’d been his type when he’d met her all those years ago but he’d been able to appreciate her attributes. The soft femininity that had been such a delightful contrast to the skill and intelligence she’d radiated as a young clinician. The sparkle of a woman who’d had the world and most of its men at her feet.
Now she was a female clinician who exuded power and control. There wasn’t even the slightest hint of softness.
Or emotion, other than anger.
Except…just for a moment there, when he’d told her that he’d met her before, Nico could swear he had seen real fear in her eyes. A vulnerability that had been so out of place with the external appearance of this woman that he’d thought he’d been imagining things.
What he certainly wasn’t imagining was the stark contrast between the woman he remembered admiring in the past and the one he’d just encountered.
What the hell had happened to Charlotte Highton?
And what was she trying to hide?
‘CHARLOTTE…THERE YOU ARE! Thank goodness…I’ve been seriously worried about what might have happened to you.’ The tall, grey-haired man was hurrying towards her. As he got closer, however, his step faltered and his eyes widened. ‘Oh, my goodness. What has happened to you?’
The hotel Bonvecchiata had a water landing for gondolas and motorboats so Charlotte had entered the foyer moments after leaping out of the police launch. She knew she looked a fright but there’d been no chance to duck into a restroom and at least tidy her hair and sponge some of the mud from her clothing. Richard Campbell, the co-ordinator of this select symposium and the man who’d invited her to open it, must have been pacing the foyer as he’d waited anxiously for her to arrive.
‘Long story, Richard. I’m very sorry, but I got caught up in an emergency. A man went into cardiac arrest and fell off some scaffolding right in front of me. I had to keep up the CPR until the ambulance got there.’
Charlotte was speaking quickly but her mind was working even faster. There were about fifty people who’d been invited to attend this symposium. Where were they? Sitting in the conference room already, drumming their fingers on the tabletops and muttering about the substandard organisation of this gathering?
Richard was an old friend. Charlotte felt terrible about letting him down like this by being late and he didn’t even know the worst of it yet. How was she going to tell him that she’d lost her presentation material?
He’d noticed her