Modern Romance August 2019 Books 5-8. Trish Morey
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now. Moments that made him doubt his sanity. His memory.
Maybe that was why he’d insisted on such a punishing pace. So as not to give himself a chance to stop and think for a second.
‘Do you think we could go now? I’m quite tired.’
Ciro looked around. He hadn’t even noticed most of the other guests leaving. Lara looked pale, the shadows under her eyes more pronounced.
A dart of guilt lanced Ciro before he could stop it. ‘Of course, let’s go.’
They got outside and even he was grateful for the fresh air. He wondered if all this endless networking was really worth it. That would have shocked him if he’d thought it before.
Suddenly his thoughts came to a standstill as Lara stopped beside him and then darted towards a dark alleyway nearby. All he could see was her light blue dress disappearing like an aquamarine jewel into the dark night.
‘What the...?’
Ciro flicked a hand to tell his security team that he would get her. As he walked towards the alleyway, though, he felt his insides curdle at the thought that she might be trying to run.
This was it. What she’d been up to.
He’d given her a credit card—maybe she’d just been biding her time. Maybe she’d met a man at one of these functions and devised a plan to escape with someone more charming than him. Someone who would offer her a lifetime of security and not just a year or six months. Someone who didn’t have their tangled history...
But at that moment Lara appeared again, in the mouth of the alleyway, and he came to a stop at the same time as his irrational circling thoughts.
He frowned at the sight before him.
She was holding something in her arms against her chest. Something that was moving. Shaking uncontrollably. She came forward, her eyes huge and filled with compassion. ‘It’s a puppy... I heard it crying. It needs help. It’s been attacked by someone, or another dog. It’s bleeding.’
Ciro could see it now—an indeterminate bundle of matted hair and big wounded-looking eyes. Dark blood was running down Lara’s dress along with muck and dirt. There was a streak of something dark along her cheek and he could smell the dog from here.
For a second he couldn’t compute the scene. Lara, dressed in a couture gown, uncaring of the fact that she was holding a mangy dog covered in blood and filth.
‘Please, Ciro, we need to take him to a vet. He’ll die.’
A memory blasted Ciro at that moment. He’d been very small. Tiny. Holding his mother’s hand as she’d walked along the street. Which had been odd, because generally she hadn’t taken him with her anywhere, not liking to take the risk that he would do something to show her up in public.
But on this day he’d been with her, and as they’d passed a side street he’d seen some older boys pelting a cowering dog with stones. He’d stopped dead, eyes wide on the awful scene. He could remember trying to call Mamma! but his mouth wouldn’t work. Eventually she’d stopped and demanded to know why he wouldn’t move.
He had pointed his finger, horrified at what he was witnessing. Such cruelty. He’d looked up at her, tears filling his eyes, willing her to do something. But she had taken one look, then gripped his hand so tightly it had hurt and dragged him away.
The piteous yelps of that dog had stayed with him for a long time. And he’d forgotten about it until this moment.
‘Ciro...?’
He moved. ‘Of course. Here—let me take him.’
She clutched the animal to her. ‘No, it’s fine. He’s not heavy. There’s no point two of us getting dirty.’
Ciro just looked at her. And then he said, ‘Fine. We’ll find the closest vet.’
Lara got into the back of the car carefully, cradling the bony body of the dog, which was still shaking pitifully. There was no way she could have ignored the distinctive crying once she’d heard it. She adored dogs.
She heard Ciro on the phone, asking someone to find them a vet and send directions immediately. She imagined a minion somewhere jumping to attention.
Ciro’s phone rang seconds later and he listened for a second before rattling off an address to the driver.
He said to Lara, ‘We’ll be at the vet’s in ten minutes—they’re expecting us.’
‘Thank you. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t just...’
‘It’s fine.’ Ciro’s voice was clipped.
Lara said, ‘If you want you can just leave me at the vet with the dog... I can call a taxi to get home.’
Ciro looked at her. She could see the dark pools of his eyes in the gloom of the back of the car.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll wait.’
After that Lara stayed silent, willing the dog to survive. When they got to the vet Ciro insisted on taking the dog into his arms, and Lara was surprised to hear him crooning softly to it in Italian, evidently not minding about getting dirty himself.
There was a team waiting when they got inside—the power of Ciro’s wealth and influence—and the dog was whisked away to be assessed. Lara felt something warm settle around her shoulders and looked up. Ciro had given her his jacket. She realised that it was chilly inside, with the air-conditioning on, and she’d been shivering.
‘Coffee?’
She nodded, and watched as Ciro went to the machine provided for clients. He handed her a coffee and took a sip of his own. It was only then that Lara caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of a window and winced inwardly. Her hair was coming down on one side and she had streaks of dirt all over her face and chest. And her dress was ruined.
She gestured with her free hand. ‘I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to ruin the dress.’
Ciro looked at her curiously. ‘It’s not as if you would have worn it again.’
She thought of how much a dress like this might have fetched in an online auction, like when she’d been reduced to selling her clothes while married to Henry Winterborne. She couldn’t ever imagine telling Ciro that story. He wouldn’t believe her.
She said, ‘Of course not,’ and sat down on a plastic chair, the adrenalin leaving her system. They were the only people at the vets. The harsh fluorescent lighting barely dented Ciro’s intensely gorgeous looks. He caught her eye and she looked away hastily, in case he saw something on her face. She felt exposed after her impetuous action. Less able to try and erect the emotional barriers between her and Ciro.
If she ever had been able to.
‘Lara...’
Reluctantly she looked at him.
He shook his head. ‘Sometimes you just...confound me. I think I know exactly who you are and then—’
At that moment there was a noise and Ciro stopped talking. Lara welcomed the distraction, not sure if she wanted to know what Ciro had been about to say.
The vet walked in and looked at them both before saying, ‘Well, he is a she and it’s lucky you found her when you did. She wouldn’t have survived much longer. She’s about five months old and as far as we can tell she hasn’t been microchipped. She’s probably from a stray litter or got dumped.’
Lara said, ‘Is she okay?’
The vet nodded. ‘She’ll be fine—thanks to you for bringing her in. She’s obviously been in a scrap, but it’s just cuts and bruises. Nothing too serious. She needs some TLC and some food. We can microchip her and keep her in overnight to clean her up, then you can take her home tomorrow, if you like?’ He must have seen something on their faces because then he said, ‘I’m sorry, I just