Veretti’s Dark Vengeance Read Online Free PDF Page A

and you still haven’t told me your name.’
She was saved from having to answer by the sight of Rico appearing behind him.
‘I think you’re wanted,’ she said.
Rico was anxious to let him know that the manager had now returned and awaited his pleasure. Salvatore thanked him and turned back to Helena.
She was gone.
‘What the-? Did you see where she went?’
‘Round that corner, signor,’ Rico said.
But when Salvatore followed he found himself facing a small piazza with no less than four exits and nothing to show which one she had taken. He made a token pursuit, hurrying from one little street to another, peering vainly down the narrow length of each, but knowing it was useless.
At last he stopped, furious at how easily she’d given him the slip on his own territory. Before returning he adjusted his expression so that he could say casually to Rico,
‘Do you happen to know who she was?’
‘No, signor. She just came as one of the group. Is it important?’
‘No, not important at all,’ he said heartily. ‘Let’s get back to business.’
Helena found that it was simple to return to Venice. Taxis were as easy to come by as in any other city, except that they moved on water. Soon she was streaking back across the lagoon, trying to sort out her conflicting emotions.
Satisfaction warred with annoyance. She’d bearded the enemy in his lair, looked him over, assessed him, been intrigued by him, and come off best in their parting. All that remained now was to make him suffer for his cheap opinion of her.
And she knew just the way.
Antonio had told her about the Venice grapevine.
‘Whisper a secret at one end of the Grand Canal and it’ll reach the other end before you do,’ he’d said.
Now she put it to the test.
Returning to the Illyria, she headed back to the information desk, where the same young man was still on duty.
‘I’ve had the most wonderful day,’ she enthused. ‘Isn’t Venice just the loveliest city? And to think I own a little part of it!’
She bubbled on, making sure that he knew she was the widow of Antonio Veretti and the new owner of Larezzo Glass. He understood precisely, as she could tell from the way his eyes were popping. As she danced into the elevator she was sure he was reaching for the telephone.
In her room she settled down to make enjoyable decisions. This dress? No, too blatant. That one, then-black, elegant, slightly severe. But she didn’t know when their meeting would occur. It might be daytime, so perhaps something more businesslike would be suitable. In the end she laid out several outfits, ready for her final decision.
As she got out of the shower the telephone rang. She answered cautiously, meaning to disguise her voice, but the man at the other end wasn’t Salvatore.
‘Am I talking to Signora Helena Veretti?’
‘You are.’
‘I am secretary to Signor Salvatore Veretti. He asks me to say that he was very glad to hear of your arrival in Venice, and looks forward to a meeting.’
Helena assumed her most formal voice to say,
‘How kind of Signor Veretti.’
‘Would this evening be too soon?’
‘Not at all.’
‘He suggests dinner at the Palazzo Veretti. His boatman will call for you at seven-thirty.’
‘I look forward to it.’
She hung up, and sat still for a moment, caught off-guard by something happening inside her.
The invitation was exactly what she’d wanted, so it was illogical that she was assailed by doubt, but she had the sudden shocking feeling of confusion. It made no sense, she told herself. She had nothing to fear from this man. The power was in her hands, not his.
Hands. The word seemed to leap out at her. His hands on the nape of her neck, caressing fingers touching, retreating, touching again. And herself trying to breathe through the storm that had engulfed her without warning.
Never, never again! She’d promised herself that long ago as a child of sixteen, when the brutal end to her first love had left her hostile to men and frozen to their