Night with a Stranger

by Joanna Mansell

  She spent the rest of the day trying to figure a way out of this mess, but couldn't seem to come up with any solution. Until she could remember what had happened during those missing couple of days, she was at a very real disadvantage.

  Half-way through the next morning, there was a brief knock on her door. Then it opened, and Lewis came into the room.

  Lorel was sitting in a chair by the window. The Palazzo Gregolino was situated on one of the smaller side canals, yet there was still plenty to see. Different boats were passing by all day long, and Lorel spent a lot of time just watching the groups of tourists, and the busy Venetians going about their everyday affairs I The sight of Lewis quickly distracted her from the scene outside the window, though.

  'What do you want?' she asked, not caring in the least that she sounded very rude.

  He tossed a couple of bags on to the bed. 'I've brought you some clothes.'

  Instantly, Lorel brightened up. 'You've managed to find out where I'm staying? You've been round to collect some of my things?'

  'No, I haven't,' Lewis growled. 'I've phoned round dozens of hotels, but none of them have got a Lorel Parker registered there.' He gave a frustrated gesture with his hands. 'It's like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Practically every other house in Venice takes in paying guests. If you're staying in one of the cheaper rooming houses, then I could be on the phone for a week, and still not come up with the right one.'

  'Well—thanks for trying,' she said a little grudgingly.

  Lewis shrugged. 'I'm not doing it for any philanthropic reasons. I'm hoping that if I can locate your hotel, I'll find my briefcase. My guess is that you've got it stashed away in your room.'

  'That damned briefcase again!' she muttered in annoyance. 'Is it that important?'

  'Yes, it is,' he replied sharply. 'I'm in Italy on a mixture of business and pleasure, combining a few days' holiday with some very important business meetings. Without the papers in that briefcase, I'm going to be at a distinct disadvantage at those meetings, and I can't afford that.'

  'Well, I'm sorry about that, but I don't see how I can help.'

  His gaze slid over her assessingly. 'Don't you?'

  She glared back at him hotly. 'And what's that meant to mean?'

  'Just that I'm still not sure if your amnesia's genuine or not.'

  'Oh, it's real enough!' she flung back at him. 'Although perhaps it's a good thing! I'm not sure that I want to remember you!'

  The blue of Lewis's eyes seemed to deepen several shades. 'But that's exactly what you're going to do,' he informed her softly. Then he gestured towards the clothes on the bed. 'You might as well get dressed. If you're well enough to argue with me, then you're well enough to get up.'

  He swung round and left before she had a chance to answer. Lorel wished she could throw something after him, to help work off her temper. Regretfully, she decided that might not be a very good idea. Instead, she sat back in her chair and indulged in a fierce fit of sulking.

  Eventually, though, her gaze began to drift over to the bags that Lewis had dumped on the bed. She wasn't interested in whatever was inside them, she told herself with some determination, and forced herself to ignore them for a while longer. Then curiosity finally got the better of her, and she went over to take a closer look.

  As she up-ended the bags on to the bed, the clothes inside fell out in a cascade of bright colour. Lord's eyebrows shot up. This wasn't chainstore stuff! She picked up a thin silk top, and then found the matching skirt. There weren't any price tags attached, but she had a good idea what clothes like this must cost. Each item was beautifully made, the design kept deliberately simple so that it could be worn anywhere, and for any occasion.

  A smaller bag revealed lace-trimmed undies, and a nightdress of pure silk. Lorel wondered who had chosen the clothes. Probably not Maria, she thought with a wry smile. The big, cheerful Italian woman always wore shapeless cotton dresses in riotously vivid colours. Had Lewis picked them out himself? Lorel held up the nightie again, and raised her eyebrows at the rather disgraceful concoction of lace and silk. She certainly hoped not! A man would only choose something like this if he was looking forward to seeing it worn.

  He most likely had a ladyfriend who had gone round and picked out a few suitable items, she comforted herself. A man like Lewis Elliott would never be short of female companions. He probably had them dotted all round Venice! All he had to do was ring one up and ask her to do him a favour.

  The next question was—did she intend to wear these clothes? She gave a grimace. Did she have any choice? The answer to that was pretty obvious—no. If she wanted to leave this room, then she had to put on one of these outfits.

  She bathed in the huge tub, dried herself on the soft towels that had been provided, and then wriggled into the underwear, which fitted perfectly. She guessed Lewis had taken the sizes from the clothes she had been wearing when she had first been brought to the palazzo, after her fall.

  She chose the outfit which looked the least expensive, a plain dress in a shade of green which she knew would perfectly complement her gold-brown hair and eyes. There was a knitted jacket which matched it, and she decided to slip that round her shoulders in case the spring sunshine outside suddenly disappeared, and the weather grew cool. The dress looked sensational. It was a shame she wouldn't be able to keep it. It was the kind of thing she would have loved to have had in her wardrobe, if she could have afforded it.

  When she was finally ready, she opened the bedroom door and made her way down the curved staircase which led down to the ground floor. Then she found herself confronted by half a dozen ornately carved doors.

  One stood half-open, so she headed towards it. Pushing it wide open, she found a large dining-room with a long, beautifully polished table laid ready for lunch. After a moment's hesitation, she went inside and sat down.

  A couple of minutes later, footsteps sounded outside. Then Lewis walked into the room.

  When he saw her sitting there, he briefly paused. His gaze slid over her, from her gleaming curls, down over the curves of her body, to the slim line of her ankles. Lorel waited tensely for him to make some very personal remark. Instead, though, his eyes flicked back to her face, his gaze very cool and rather distant.

  'I see you made it down to lunch, then,' he observed.

  'Of course I did,' she replied stiffly. 'I feel fine now. I want my life to get back to normal as soon as possible.'

  Lewis seated himself opposite her. 'Then what are your plans?'

  His question rather threw her, because she didn't actually have any yet.

  'I don't know,' came her reluctant admission. 'It's all a bit difficult, since I don't have the slightest idea which hotel I booked into after I arrived in Venice. I don't even have any clothes, except these that you've lent me. Incidentally,' she went on, 'where did you get them from?'

  'A small boutique just around the corner,' replied Lewis. 'I phoned them up, gave them your age, size and colourings, and asked them to send round a selection of suitable things.'

  'I wish they'd sent something cheaper,' she told him bluntly.

  Lewis shrugged. 'I didn't set any price limit. Anyway, it isn't important.'

  'It is to me,' she insisted. 'These clothes are expensive. I don't feel right wearing them.'

  'Why not? They look good on you, and surely that's all that matters.'

  'But I haven't paid for them myself! I can't pay for them.'

  His eyes briefly gleamed. 'On the train, you told me that you were an heiress. Are you now saying that you weren't strictly truthful with me, Lorel?'

  'I've no idea what I told you on that train,' she reminded him with some exasperation. 'Except I'm sure I never said anything so stupid. Why would I have told such a silly lie?'

  'Perhaps you wanted to impress me,' Lewis suggested.

  'That's ridiculous!' she retorted. 'I wouldn't want to impress you!'

  'No?' he queried, a faint smile hovering around the corners of his mouth.
'But you can't really remember, can you?' came his gentle gibe. 'You don't even know if it worked. For all you know, I might have been very impressed indeed.'

  Lorel sniffed. 'Because you thought I was rolling in money?'

  His gaze rested on her in a way that she found quite unnerving] 'Not necessarily,' he replied in a silky voice.

  She decided that she didn't like the drift of this conversation. Luckily, Maria came in a moment later, carrying a tray loaded with plates of salad and bowls of fruit.

  She beamed at Lorel, and chattered away to her as she set out the plates.

  'Maria's pleased to see you up and about, and looking so well,' translated Lewis.

  'Thank you—grazie,' Lorel smiled back at her.

  Maria turned back to Lewis, and spoke to him at length in a much sterner tone. Then she picked up the empty tray, and left the room.

  'What was that all about?' asked Lorel curiously.

  Lewis shot her a dry glance. 'The general gist of it was that I'm to behave like a perfect gentleman. Maria doesn't approve of the two of us being under the same roof. In fact, I don't think she even approves of the two of us eating together like this. In her opinion, you should be very strictly chaperoned while you're staying at the palazzo.'

  'And do you think I need to be chaperoned?' enquired Lorel, looking back at him coolly.

  'That rather depends.'

  'On what?'

  'On how you behave yourself while you're here,' he replied calmly.

  Lorel instantly bristled, because his insinuation had been clear enough. 'What do you think I'm going to do?' she demanded. 'Throw myself at you? Do you really think that I'm the one who's going to make the advances?'

  'I've no idea. I don't know you well enough yet, Lorel Parker.'

  'Oh, I've had enough of this,' she muttered. She tossed down her napkin, and got to her feet. 'I don't want to eat with you, and I've had just about enough of your so-called hospitality. I'm getting out of here— and right now!'

  She started to leave the room, but as she walked past Lewis he reached out and caught hold of her wrist.

  'You're not going anywhere,' he informed her steadily.

  Lorel flung an angry glance at him. 'Just try and stop me!'

  'I'm doing that already,' he pointed out. And so he was. She wriggled furiously, but there was no way she could break the strong grip of his fingers.

  'So, what are you going to do?' she demanded defiantly. 'Hold me like this indefinitely?'

  'No. Just until we've got a few things straight.'

  She tried wrenching her hand away again, but then gave up. He was right. She was going nowhere until he let go of her. She flopped sulkily down into the chair beside him. Instantly, he let go of her wrist.

  'That's better,' he said approvingly. 'Now, do you want to eat first, or shall we discuss the arrangements I've got in mind for you?'

  'I think I'll eat,' she replied, glaring at him with pure dislike. 'I don't know what you're going to tell me, but I bet it'll ruin my appetite!'

  The salad was fresh and delicious, and the wine that accompanied it was fruity, with just a hint of dryness. Lorel drank rather more of the wine than was probably wise, but told herself that she needed something to bolster up her already frayed nerves. Finally, she pushed away her empty plate; then she sat back and looked at Lewis.

  'All right,' she said bluntly. 'What do you intend to do about me?'

  'Perhaps we ought to go over a few basic facts first,' Lewis suggested. 'Firstly, you do realise that if you walk out of here, you haven't got anywhere to go? You can't remember which hotel you're^ staying in, and there isn't enough money in your bag to pay for more than a couple of nights at some other hotel.'

  'You've been through my handbag?' she accused indignantly.

  'Yes,' he agreed, without the slightest trace of compunction. 'Which brings us to the second point. I now have your passport. Until I give it back to you, you're going to find it very hard to go anywhere at all.'

  'I'll go to the Consulate,' she threatened immediately. 'They'll sort this mess out for me. And when they hear what's happened, you could find yourself in serious trouble!'

  Lewis smiled in a superior way which she found totally infuriating.

  'How could I possibly be in trouble?' he enquired smoothly. 'I've done my very best to help someone who got into difficulties. I've taken you into my house, paid the doctor's bill, and made every effort to make sure that you had the best possible treatment.'

  'You've also accused me of being a thief, threatened to keep me here against my will, and taken away my passport,' she shot back at him furiously. 'I don't think the Consulate would approve of that!'

  Lewis was still smiling. 'Could you prove any of those accusations?' he challenged her. 'I'd deny them, of course. And Maria would be willing to swear that you've been treated with nothing except kindness and consideration during the time you've been at the Palazzo Gregolino.'

  'Kindness and consideration?' yelped Lorel. 'You don't know the meaning of the words!'

  'On the other hand,' went on Lewis, as if she hadn't even spoken, 'you might not come out of it at all well. Not after they find out that you're a thief. In fact, when I tell them that you've stolen a briefcase containing very valuable papers, you could even find yourself facing police proceedings.'

  For a moment, her blood actually ran cold. Then a small grin appeared on her face. 'I might not be able to prove that you tried to keep me a prisoner here, but you've got exactly the same problem,' she said triumphantly. ' You can't prove that I took your stupid briefcase!'

  Lewis's expression didn't change. 'Oh, but I can,' he informed her softly. 'One of the passengers on the train saw you walking off with it. I have his name, the address of his hotel, and his assurance that he'll be willing to repeat that piece of information to the police, whenever I ask him to.'

  The grin faded from Lorel's face. 'You're bluffing,' she muttered, but even she could hear the lack of conviction in her voice.

  'Want to take that risk?' invited Lewis.

  Lorel knew perfectly well that she didn't. What was the alternative, though? She gave a small shiver. She already knew the answer to that!

  'I know I'm not a thief,' she stated very clearly, at last. 'But until I can remember those missing couple of days, I won't know exactly what happened, and who's telling the truth about all of this.' She looked at him with open hostility. 'If I agree to stay here at the palazzo for a while, what exactly would you expect me to do?'

  'Whatever I ask of you,' he replied evenly.

  Her eyes flew wide open. 'Oh, no! I'm not going along with anything like that.'

  'It won't be anything too dreadful—-or shocking,' Lewis mocked, obviously amused by her alarmed reaction. 'I simply want to keep you under the sort of conditions where you can get back the rest of your memory. In fact, all I want you to do is to rest and relax.'

  'I still don't see why I have to stay here,' she said in annoyance.

  'Where else could you go?' came his very reasonable reply.

  Lorel pulled a face. She supposed he had a point there. 'How long do you intend to keep me here?' she asked.

  'I've managed to postpone my business meetings for a few more days. If your memory isn't back by then, and we still haven't found the briefcase, then I'll have to rethink the situation.'

  'My ticket back home is booked for the end of this week.'

  'I'm sure the departure date can be changed.' Lewis got to his feet. 'You'd better take it easy for the rest of the day. The doctor's coming to give you a final check-up tomorrow morning.'

  'More bills,' she muttered unhappily. 'It's going to take me for ever to pay you back.'

  'I haven't asked for any repayment,' Lewis pointed out a little sharply.

  Her head swiftly came up. 'Well, you're going to get it! I certainly don't intend to be in any kind of debt to you.'

  Lewis shook his head irritably. 'You're a very difficult girl.'

  'Then just let me l
eave,' she shot back immediately. 'That way, you won't have to be bothered with me any more.'

  'No.' His tone was firm and final. 'Like it or not, you're staying here. In fact, I don't want you leaving the palazzo at all, not even for a walk, unless I come with you.'

  'You are keeping me a prisoner!' she accused.

  'Not really. You're free to walk out that door any time you please—as long as you're prepared to take the consequences.'

  He left the room after that, leaving her to think about his last statement. It didn't take her too long. She was in a mess, and she knew it. Worse than that, she had no one she could turn to for help or advice. Too late, she wished she hadn't come on this holiday on her own. If she had waited until the summer, then she could have come with a couple of friends. But no, she'd had to rush off on the spur of the moment, and now she was definitely regretting it. Being in Venice on her own was no fun. On top of that, she was beginning to feel horribly vulnerable and alone, and it was an extremely unpleasant sensation.

  She sighed deeply. If only she hadn't met Lewis Elliott. And the worst part was that she couldn't even remember meeting him! She knew it had happened on the train—at least, that was what he had told her, and she supposed he had no reason to lie about that— but the whole thing was a total blank as far as she was concerned. That put her at a serious disadvantage, and she was sure that was a very dangerous position to be in where Lewis Elliott was concerned.

  The doctor came in the morning, and pronounced himself satisfied with her physical condition. At least, that was what she supposed he had said. She had to rely on Lewis's translation, and she began to wish that she understood more than a few very basic-words of Italian.

  For the rest of the day, she wandered rather restlessly around the palazzo, exploring its many rooms, gaping a little at its unashamed splendour, and wishing that circumstances had been different, so that she could have enjoyed her stay here.

  In the afternoon, she spent a couple of hours with Maria, in the kitchen. Maria chattered almost nonstop and, although Lorel hadn't the faintest idea what she was saying, she felt relaxed with the big, friendly woman. More than that, she felt safe. She had the feeling that Lewis wouldn't dare to do anything out of line while Maria was around.