Valtieri's Bride. Caroline Anderson

      She was taken away, Claire with her, and he stayed in the waiting area, pacing restlessly and driving himself mad with his imagination of what was happening beyond the doors. His brother reappeared moments later and handed him the keys, giving him a keen look.

      ‘You all right?’

      Hardly. ‘I’m fine,’ he said, his voice tight.

      ‘So how do you know this woman?’ Luca asked, and he filled him in quickly with the bare bones of the accident.

      ‘Oh—she’s wearing a wedding dress,’ he warned. ‘It’s a competition, a race to win a wedding.’

      A race she’d lost. If only he’d taken her arm, or gone in front, she would have fallen against him, he could have saved her …

      ‘Luca, don’t let her die,’ he said urgently, fear clawing at him.

      ‘She won’t die,’ Luca promised, although how he could say that without knowing—well, he couldn’t. It was just a platitude, Massimo knew that.

      ‘Let me know how she is.’

      Luca nodded and went off to investigate, leaving him there to wait, but he felt bile rise in his throat and got abruptly to his feet, pacing restlessly again. How long could it take?

      Hours, apparently, or at least it felt like it.

      Luca reappeared with Claire.

      ‘They’re taking X-rays of her leg now but it looks like a sprained ankle. She’s just a little concussed and bruised from her fall, but the head injury doesn’t look serious,’ he said.

      ‘Nor did Angelina’s,’ he said, switching to Italian.

      ‘She’s not Angelina, Massimo. She’s not going to die of this.’

      ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘Yes. Yes, I’m sure. She’s had a scan. She’s fine.’

      It should have reassured him, but Massimo felt his heart still slamming against his ribs, the memories crowding him again.

      ‘She’s all right,’ Luca said quietly. ‘This isn’t the same.’

      He nodded, but he just wanted to get out, to be away from the hospital in the fresh air. Not going to happen. He couldn’t leave Lydia, no matter how much he wanted to get away. And he could never get away from Angelina …

      Luca took him to her.

      She was lying on a trolley, and there was blood streaked all over the front of the hideous dress, but at least they’d taken her off the spinal board. ‘How are you?’ he asked, knowing the answer but having to ask anyway, and she turned her head and met his eyes, her own clouded with worry and pain.

      ‘I’m fine, they just want to watch me for a while. I’ve got some bumps and bruises, but nothing’s broken, I’m just sore and cross with myself and I want to go to the hotel and they won’t let me leave yet. I’m so sorry, Massimo, I’ve got Claire, you don’t need to wait here with me. It could be ages.’

      ‘I do.’ He didn’t explain, didn’t tell her what she didn’t need to know, what could only worry her. But he hadn’t taken Angelina’s head injury seriously. He’d assumed it was nothing. He hadn’t watched her, sat with her, checked her every few minutes. If he had—well, he hadn’t, but he was damned if he was leaving Lydia alone for a moment until he was sure she was all right.

      Luca went back to work, and while the doctors checked her over again and strapped her ankle, Massimo found some coffee for him and Claire and they sat and drank it. Not a good idea. The caffeine shot was the last thing his racing pulse needed.

      ‘I need to make a call,’ Claire told him. ‘If I go just outside, can you come and get me if there’s any news?’

      He nodded, watching her leave. She was probably phoning the radio station to tell them about Lydia’s accident. And she’d been so close to winning …

      She came back, a wan smile on her face. ‘Jo’s there.’

      ‘Jo?’

      ‘The other contestant. Lydia’s lost the race. She’s going to be so upset. I can’t tell her yet.’

      ‘I think you should. She might stop fretting if it’s too late, let herself relax and get better.’

      Claire gave a tiny, slightly hysterical laugh. ‘You don’t know her very well, do you?’

      He smiled ruefully. ‘No. No, I don’t.’ And it was ridiculous that he minded the fact.

      Lydia looked up as they went back in, and she scanned Claire’s face.

      ‘Did you ring the radio station?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Has …’ She could hardly bring herself to ask the question, but she took another breath and tried again. ‘Has Jo got there yet?’ she asked, and then held her breath. It was possible she’d been unlucky, that she hadn’t managed to get a flight, that any one of a hundred things could have happened.

      They hadn’t. She could see it in Claire’s eyes, she didn’t need to be told that Jo and Kate, her minder, were already there, and she felt the bitter sting of tears scald her eyes.

      ‘She’s there, isn’t she?’ she asked, just because she needed confirmation.

      Claire nodded, and Lydia turned her head away, shutting her eyes against the tears. She was so, so cross with herself. They’d been so close to winning, and if she’d only been more careful, gathered up the stupid dress so she could see the steps.

      She swallowed hard and looked back up at Claire’s worried face. ‘Tell her well done for me when you see her.’

      ‘I will, but you’ll see her, too. We’ve got rooms in the hotel for the night. I’ll ring them now, let them know what’s happening. We can go there when they discharge you.’

      ‘No, I could be ages. Why don’t you go, have a shower and something to eat, see the others and I’ll get them to ring you if there’s any change. Or better still, if you give me back my phone and my purse, I can call you and let you know when I’m leaving, and I’ll just get a taxi.’

      ‘I can’t leave you alone!’

      ‘She won’t be alone, I’ll stay with her. I’m staying anyway, whether you’re here or not,’ Massimo said firmly, and Lydia felt a curious sense of relief. Relief, and guilt.

      And she could see the same emotions in Claire’s face. She was dithering, chewing her lip in hesitation, and Lydia took her hand and squeezed it.

      ‘There, you see? And his brother works here, so he’ll be able to pull strings. It’s fine, Claire. Just go. I’ll see you later.’ And she could get rid of Massimo once Claire had gone …

      Claire gave in, reluctantly. ‘OK, if you insist. Here, your things. I’ll put them in your bag. Where is it?’

      ‘I have no idea. Is it under the bed?’

      ‘No. I haven’t seen it.’

      ‘It must have been left on the ground at the airport,’ Massimo said. ‘My men will have picked it up.’

      ‘Can you check? My passport’s in it.’

      ‘Si.’ He left them briefly, and when he came back he confirmed it had been taken by the others. ‘I’ll make sure you get it tonight,’ he promised.

      ‘Thanks. Right, Claire, you go. I’m fine.’

      ‘You will call me and let me know what’s going on as soon as you have any news?’

      ‘Yes, I promise.’

      Claire gave in, hugging Lydia a little tearfully before she left them.

      Lydia