No.With a silent groan she remembered pulling it out to slice a beautiful piece of prosciutto she’d bought at theMercato.
She had hairspray though. In her bathroom, and that was only a few steps away. Surely that could be turned to some purpose, to give her the air of advantage. She swallowed, listening again.
There was nothing now.
In another hour, people would begin moving down the street. In her neighbourhood, life started early in the day, with many of her neighbours working shift jobs at the nearby airport. If she screamed, someone would hear her.
And yet she had never, not once, not in all the years of her life – so many of them dogged by terror and abject fear –cried for help.
The thought poured courage down her back and she stood, cursing the bed that creaked noisily into the silence as she moved.
She was alone.
For two days, she had glimpsed what it might be like to have someone you could rely on and share things with. But it had been a stupid fantasy. A completely baseless fantasy that her heart had indulged before her mind could realize what idiocy was occurring.
Benedetto had told her it was time that they got back to reality, and she had.
And Kate’s reality was that she was alone. No one was going to come to her rescue. She’d learned that time and time again.
She was slight and small; she moved like a pale breeze to her bathroom and grabbed not only the hair spray but also her tweezers and a pair of pantyhose she’d been drying on the towel rack.
Then, fast as she could, she crept out of her bedroom and into the lounge. She kept her back to the bedroom door, and switched the light on.
The room was tiny; it took her only a moment to flash her eyes across each corner and realize that she was alone. Her apartment was exactly as she’d left it beforegoing to bed. A single plate was dry, where she’d left it draining on the side of the sink, and a solo wine glass, from which she’d enjoyed soda water and a spritz of lime
The blanket was as she’d arranged it, neatly folded and resting over the armrest.
Kate’s breathing began to relax, but she hadn’t yet checked the entire flat. With a residual degree of trepidation, she pulled the cupboard doors open and held the hairspray at head height.
But only her vacuum cleaner and a couple of business suits stared back at her.
“For goodness sake, Katherine,” she grimaced. “Calm down.”
She checked the windows were as firmly closed as they could be and then, with a sense of relief but not calm, went back to her room.
Sleep, thereafter, was a futile exercise.
Her mind was wired, her eyes wide awake.
She gave up after lying prone for almost ten minutes, and instead returned to the kitchen to stir the kettle to life.
It brought back memories of the way they’d made tea at his villa, boiling water in an old pot, suspended over a fire. Was there anything more rustic or romantic than such simple pleasures?
Her own state of the art kettle finished heating the water quickly and she steeped a tea bag into her favourite mug. Cradling it in both hands, she cuddled up on the sofa and waited.
For dawn to break over the city.
For peace to return to her heart.
And for the sense of desperate need that was ripping through her to abate.
How could she feel such a powerful lust after such a short acquaintance?
Her desire for him, and the way he’d made her feel, had been totally unexpected.
And so what?
She couldn’t pursue it.
