Page 59 of Awakened in Her Enemy's Palazzo

Theo, halfway out through the door, turned.

‘Bring her back to us. We all love her.’

Something flickered in Theo’s eyes.

‘I will,’ he promised.

Theo arrived at the garages just as Nic was pulling up in a Land Rover. The other man climbed out and began peeling off his waterproof. He stopped when he saw Theo approaching and moved towards him, hand outstretched.

His hand fell when he saw Theo’s face.

Nic stayed silent while Theo explained the situation, and when he had finished tossed Theo the keys for the four-wheel drive.

‘This is the toughest car we have for that terrain. Stay in touch—and don’t worry. We’ll have no shortage of volunteers.’

He had barely taken two steps before Theo had pulled away in the four-wheel drive with an agonised screech of tyres.

Theo kept the accelerator floored until he reached a point where the track was virtually washed away. He weaved his own path, negotiating the worst of the craters and rocks, though not all. The four-wheel drive bumped and jolted, rocking from side to side on the worst sections.

His teeth clenched in frustration he drove on and the windscreen wipers screeched in protest—and she was in a Mini.

‘Typical Grace! Damn you, woman!’

Over the next couple of miles the rain lessened, and the going was easier, and Theo made better time—until he reached the end of the trail. Literally. His heart froze as he stopped the car and surveyed the devastation. A section of the hillside had slipped, leaving a raw wound. The road ahead was completely blocked with mud, rocks and uprooted trees.

Theo reached into the back of seat where he had flung a rucksack full of emergency supplies: basic first aid stuff, a foil survival blanket, some high-calorie energy food. The flask with a hot drink handed to him by Marta was on top, with his own addition of brandy. He fastened the straps, zipped up his waterproof and shrugged the rucksack on as he stepped out.

The wind appeared to have dropped, but the rain was relentless again—a physical assault. There was no sign of the sunny spells that had been promised to follow the storm, and no sign of a red Mini.

Had she made it through before this section had become blocked?

Theo would not—couldnot—allow himself to believe that she had not. She was too stubborn to die...too hard-headed to give up.

‘Damn you...Damn you!’ he gritted, wiping away the moisture running down his face and tasting salt.

He hadn’t asked to fall in love—he hadn’twantedto fall in love. How many people had their lives ruined by love? How many people ended up disillusioned and bitter when they were betrayed by the person they had entrusted their life to?

For years his father had symbolised the betrayal associated with love—a betrayal which had become inevitable in Theo’s head. Now he knew the truth. That his father had been a victim of love too.

The problem was that people persisted in thinking that there were winners in this race to the bottom of common sense. It was not a race he had had any intention of competing in. But the idea that Grace was out here lost...hurt... His arrogance suddenly seemed astounding, his cowardice contemptible.

He had spent the last few weeks fighting the truth, not willing to relinquish control, but wasn’t that what love was? You put your future happiness and well-being—yoursanity—into the hands of another person.

He had built his protective walls so damned high that he had become smugly confident that no one would get inside. And then there was Grace... Those walls had crumbled the first time he’d looked into her blue eyes. Trust, he thought, feeling ashamed. Her total integrity had been there in her beautiful eyes.

He had let her go without a fight because he was a coward. And now he was going to find her and let her decide his future—because without her he didn’t have one.

‘Grace!’

Cupping his hands over his mouth he paused every few steps and called her name, his eyes constantly searching for any sign, dreading what he might see, hoping that she was tucked up cosily in a warm, dry room somewhere, nursing a glass of wine and cursing him.

He had taken a route through the debris and come out the other side as he tried to formulate a plan for what to do next when he saw it. His heart froze. The image of the twisted metal in the valley, deposited within the mud and debris of the slide, imprinted itself on his retina—a nightmare to relive for the rest of his life.

‘Oh, Grace... Grace!’

He wanted to stand there and wail, but he locked the feral cry in his throat and scanned the incline below, visualising a path, picking out potential footholds and storing the information as he prepared to climb down.

Grace had thought she was dreaming when she heard her name—and his voice.

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