Claimed by the Wealthy Magnate

Within seconds, almost without knowing how it had happened, she and Daniel were seated on chairs of extraordinary comfort and Roberto had materialised in front of them.

‘Welcome. Your suite is of course ready—two en-suite double bedrooms, with a sitting room in between for you to work. I hope that is acceptable—we accommodated Signora Derwent at late notice.’

‘That sounds wonderful,’ Kaitlin lied as she stemmed a panic of a different type. A suite sounded too...close.

For heaven’s sake.

They would be separated by a lounge, and she knew that the rooms in this hotel were positively palatial. Yet a quick sideways glance at Daniel showed a definite tension to his jaw—hard to figure whether that should make her feel better or worse.

‘I will take you up, and on the way I will give you a brief tour,’ Roberto continued, pride clear in his voice. ‘The hotel is truly worthy of a grand tour. It was built in the sixteenth century as a palazzo and we have changed as little as possible of its splendour—whilst of course incorporating maximum twenty-first-century comfort and amenities.’

As they followed Roberto to the grand sweeping curve of the staircase and through a maze of passageways and public rooms it seemed clear that he hadn’t exaggerated. The restoration was a timeless fusion of old and new, the colour schemes a tribute to taste. Historic murals and frescoes were subtly showcased, the library felt heavy with knowledge, and yet the overall impression was one of elegant, gorgeous comfort.

Then they came to their suite, and Roberto stopped at the door and handed them two ornate iron keys. ‘One last item—we have arranged complimentary tickets for a private

tour of the Doge’s Palace today. Tomorrow we will meet to show you all the arrangements for the ball.’ A small bow and he turned and headed back to the staircase.

For a moment they both stood in the panelled passageway and eyed the door, before Daniel swiped a hand down his face and stepped forward. ‘Shall we?’

She followed him through and her eyes widened as she looked around the lounge. ‘Wow!’

But Daniel didn’t seem inclined to view the authentic silk wall coverings, or to ooh and ah over the sixteenth-century architecture, or even the intricate splendour of the chandelier.

Instead he leant back against the wall and surveyed her. ‘Is it likely that Prince Frederick is with Sunita?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Don’t you care?’

The thought caused a mix of emotions. The sensation of a weight lifted from her shoulders, alongside a ripple of fear of the unknown... ‘If you mean am I hurt or jealous? Then, no, I’m not.’

A lightning-fast thought shot through her head—an image of Daniel with a woman—and to her surprise her hands clenched involuntarily. Of course that wasn’t what Daniel meant—he wouldn’t be interested in her emotional state.

Time to retrieve the gaffe.

‘In terms of how the publicity will affect the ball—I don’t know. I don’t think the press will lose interest in me, but you’re right. It depends on whether the story is true. Either way I think it’s win-win for us. If he is with Sunita they will still want my reaction. If he isn’t we haven’t lost anything. Right now I’m more concerned about April Fotherington. So let’s hope you’re right—the more time we spend together the less awkward our body language will become.’

Though now she came to think about it that didn’t make a vast amount of sense. But no matter—there was no choice.

She glanced at her watch. ‘Anyway, I’m going to unpack and settle in before the Doge’s Palace tour.’

Once in her room Kaitlin sat on the edge of her sumptuous king-sized bed and took a moment to appreciate the room’s baroque splendour. Gold and gilt and intricate plasterwork was offset by the minimalist functional furniture, the heavy curtains that would guarantee a good night’s sleep.

For a moment she was tempted to lie back and simply study the ceiling, adorned with the beauty of a painting by one of Venice’s best-known artists centuries before. To shut herself in this sanctuary of a room—away from the tumultuous feelings Daniel evoked, away from the panic it was becoming harder to keep at bay—and admit it was all too much. That she’d bitten off more than she could fit in her mouth, let alone chew.

No! That was not her way. So instead, with resolution, she walked to the window and looked out—perhaps if she looked around from the safety of her room she could at least acclimatise herself?

But seconds later she propelled herself backwards, her senses reeling as panic slammed her. Unfamiliarity surrounded her—but, worse, everywhere she looked there was water.

Tendrils of memory unfurled and clamped her in a stranglehold of panic. The rough, grating tone of the kidnappers, the heart wrenching terror, the conviction that they would drown her. The blindfold...their chilling description of exactly what would happen to her as she drowned... The humiliation of her own voice begging, promising to do as they said.

Not now. These memories could not resurface now.

She backed further away from the window, hauled in a breath and perched on the end of the bed. She closed her eyes and tried to call up peaceful, safe thoughts.

‘Kaitlin?’

Daniel’s deep voice pervaded her meditation and she opened her eyes.