A Proposal to Remember

‘That’s odd.’

‘What’s odd?’ Carlo’s tone was clipped as he moved towards the doorway of her flat, obviously waiting for someone.

‘They don’t seem to have taken anything.’ Zan glanced around the room and then bent down and picked up the earrings that Carlo had given her for Christmas. ‘Why would anyone break in and not take anything?’

Carlo’s sucked in a breath. ‘Zan—’

Before he could finish what he was going to say the lift doors opened and a man stepped out.

Zan’s eyes widened. It was the same man who’d been following her and who Carlo had spoken to in the restaurant.

She looked at him in confusion and then back at Carlo, who was speaking in rapid Italian.

Then she heard footsteps on the stairs and armed police swarmed into her flat.

‘What the hell is going on?’ She backed away, intimidated by the sight of guns and bulletproof vests. She stared at Carlo in shock and then looked at one of the policeman.

‘They’ve broken in and trashed the place but they don’t seem to have taken anything.’ Her voice tailed off as she watched them comb the flat, suddenly aware that they weren’t interested in her. It was like something out of the movies and a chill spread over her body.

Why were they turning up with guns?

She didn’t fool herself that the police took breaking and entering that seriously.

Something else was going on.

One of the policemen was talking to Carlo, his manner respectful. ‘We’ve had them under surveillance since they entered the country but they gave us all the slip last night. They were obviously hiding out somewhere, waiting for you to go to the hospital.’

Zan stared. Who? Who had been hiding out?

Carlo’s mouth was grim. ‘How did they find me?’

The policeman gave a wry smile. ‘It’s hard for anyone as well known as you to hide anywhere for long. Someone somewhere would have spotted you and passed on the information. We’ve had calls from the press, too, so I think it’s safe to assume that your secret is well and truly out.’

Well known? Secret?

Why were the police treating Carlo as if he were royalty?

Zan had had enough. She stalked up to Carlo, her face pale. ‘Would someone mind telling me what’s happening?’

The policeman was still looking at Carlo. ‘This was probably a warning. They want you to know that they’ve discovered your identity and that they’re on to you.’

‘I realise that.’ Carlo let out a long breath as he turned to Zan. ‘I need to get you away from here. I never should have dragged you into this.’

‘Dragged me into what?’ Zan looked round at the armed police and shivered with cold. Then she looked back at Carlo, but suddenly he seemed like a stranger. Gone was the warmth and good humour that she’d come to expect from him. In its place was a tough, ruthless detachment which she found intimidating. ‘What’s all this about discovering your identity? Just who the hell are you?’

Her voice rose and Carlo stiffened. ‘Zan, listen—let me sort this out and then we’ll talk.’

‘No way.’ She shook her head and planted herself firmly in front of him, ignoring the police and the other man who clearly knew Carlo well. ‘We talk now.’

‘All right.’ He ran a hand over his dark hair and let out a long breath. ‘My surname isn’t Bennett.’

There was a long silence while Zan digested that piece of information. Not Bennett. She remembered that first day when Kim had spoken to him and he hadn’t reacted to his name. No wonder. He hadn’t recognised it.

He’d been lying to her. Suddenly she found it difficult to breathe. He’d been lying to her from the first evening they’d met.

How could she have been so gullible?

It had all been too good to be true.