The From Paris With Love And Regency Season Of Secrets Ultimate Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

fleeting hope that her grandmother would see them and stay well away to give them a private moment evaporated, along with any awareness of what was around them. Charlotte was completely lost in this kiss. Transported to a place she’d never been. A place where passion and tenderness combined to create an all-consuming fuel that could burn away anything and everything and leave only peace and fulfilment in its wake.

      A kiss that promised everything. So much more than this touch of lips and tongues.

      More…

      And that was when Charlotte stopped being lost. She couldn’t do more. If she tried, Nico would find out and he would know what was so wrong with her.

      That she could go so far and no further. Because she was not a real woman. Real women liked going further. They weren’t…frigid.

      That did it. Just the tiniest echo of that hateful word was enough. Charlotte wrenched herself back from Nico’s touch. His jacket slid from her shoulders and puddled on the stone terrace. She could turn to see what had happened, scoop up the jacket and try to collect herself before acknowledging her grandmother standing in the restaurant doorway.

      ‘Oh…Gran…I’m so sorry. I…lost track of time.’

      ‘So I see.’ Lady Geraldine’s smile warmed the winter’s night.

      Nico was rubbing his lips slowly with his forefinger, staring at Charlotte, but now he also turned towards the door.

      ‘You must be tired, Jendi. Let me see you both back to your hotel.’

      ‘That would be lovely, Nico. Thank you. We have an early start tomorrow. I think we have to be at the Santa Lucia station by nine a.m. to catch the train.’

      It was Charlotte’s turn to stare at Nico but he didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, he put an arm around her waist as they began moving.

      ‘No problem,’ he told her grandmother. ‘I’m an early riser.’

       CHAPTER SIX

      ‘WHERE IS HE?’

      ‘I don’t know, Gran.’ Charlotte allowed a small seed of hope to blossom that Nico might fail to show up in time. Or maybe that odd squeeze in her chest was disappointment?

      Yep. There was definitely an internal struggle going on here. The safest thing was to never see Nico Moretti again and that’s what she should want. And, yes, she could try and convince herself that she only wanted him around, continuing this pretence of a relationship, because it was such a joy to see her grandmother so happy, but there was no way of hiding the real truth. Part of her—a big, rebellious part of her—simply wanted to be close to him again.

      ‘Maybe something came up.’ Like a bout of common sense? ‘He doesn’t have our phone numbers so he might not have been able to let us know.’

      The train was already here at the station, the sleek, dark blue carriages with the gold trim, the coat of arms featuring two rampant lions and the lettering announcing that this was, indeed, the Venice Simplon Orient Express. As if anyone could mistake it! Among the ordinary modern European trains in the station, this one stood out like a beacon. So did the attendants. The gold-trimmed blue uniforms looked positively military and the pillbox hats the stewards were wearing made them look ready for a fancy-dress party.

      The check-in desk stood out on the grey concrete of the platform in equally startling contrast. A red carpet, of all things, with brass posts holding tasselled ropes to create an oasis of luxury amidst the mundane. Even the people milling around looked different. Like that young woman in a long coat that belonged to another era, its fur collar turned up around her neck. The people were generally better dressed, certainly, but that wasn’t the only difference. There was an air of excitement that encased this part of the station and separated it from the rest. From the real world.

      ‘I knew we should have offered to let him share our water taxi.’

      ‘It would have been a bit of a squeeze with all your luggage, Gran.’

      It had, in fact, taken an impressive tip to get the water taxi driver to leave his boat tied up and carry Gran’s bags up the daunting flight of stairs leading into the train station from the road beside the canal. ‘You did know you’re only supposed to have one cabin bag and one piece of luggage to be checked in, didn’t you?’

      Her grandmother sniffed. ‘If you’re going to do the Orient Express, it must be done in style. Everybody knows that. Goodness knows how you get away with nothing more than an oversized handbag.’

      Cabin luggage hadn’t been all Charlotte had been carrying on her way to Venice, of course. She’d had her laptop bag to contend with as well. An accessory that was now lying on the bottom of a Venetian canal. She could remember the expression on Nico’s face as he’d realised what had happened. So apologetic, even though it hadn’t exactly been his fault. The willingness to do whatever he could to put things right.

      He was a kind man. And a generous one. The tailored suit jacket Charlotte was wearing again today suddenly felt tight. Scratchy, almost, as her senses replayed the sensation of the silk lining of Nico’s jacket against her bare skin. A sensation that morphed almost seamlessly into remembering that kiss.

      How kind was he? Kind enough not to reveal astonishment…disgust…when he found out what Charlotte was lacking?

      And then there was that very tiny seed of what was definitely hope because that kiss had made her feel things that no other kiss ever had—even Siegfried’s. And if just a kiss felt that different, maybe other things would feel different too and maybe…just maybe…she’d be able to—

      Oh, help… Wasn’t it enough that her memory of that little scene had kept her awake virtually all night? She couldn’t allow it to keep distracting her like this. Charlotte balanced her cabin bag on top of Gran’s biggest suitcase and grabbed the handle of the other with her free hand. With a determined shove she began moving the luggage towards a check-in desk that looked suspiciously like an antique mahogany piece. Lady Geraldine pulled the handle of her smaller bag as she followed.

      ‘You’re going to have to wear the same dress for dinner tonight that you had on last night, aren’t you?’

      ‘What was wrong with my dress?’ It had been the first time Charlotte had worn the slinky, silver number but she’d been delighted with how it had looked when she’d put it on. How good it had made her feel.

      ‘It’s a lovely dress, dear. You just need more than one of them.’

      It was a lovely dress. And if Charlotte was honest, she’d felt way more than simply ‘good’ in it. The way Nico had run his eyes over it more than once, as though the experience was a pleasure all in itself. Yes…that dress had made her feel beautiful. An odd experience for a woman who did virtually nothing to enhance her appearance in order to attract the attention of the opposite sex.

      ‘Nobody’s going to know I’m wearing it two nights in a row.’ Charlotte smiled at the woman behind the desk and handed over the tickets.

      ‘Apart from your fiancé.’

      The woman behind the desk was smiling. ‘You must be Lady Geraldine. We got your message. We’re delighted to be able to welcome Dr Moretti on board to accompany you and your granddaughter.’

      ‘Um…there could be a small problem…’ Charlotte began. But the woman wasn’t listening. She wasn’t even looking at her and the expression on her face suggested that she was looking at something far more interesting.

      A tall and extremely attractive man, perhaps?

      ‘Cara…’ The endearment was a caress. ‘I’m so sorry I’m late.’ Nico pulled Charlotte into his arms and then bent to brush her lips in a perfectly acceptable kiss for a public place. Except it lingered for just a heartbeat too long.