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What an arrogant asshole, Gina thought. Just because he was Brad Redford’s stunt double, he thought he was a VIP too. She was in charge around here, and the sooner this guy realized that, the better.

The atmosphere was charged; she noticed Edoardo smirking, looking at her admiringly, and wondered what the story was there. Who were these two guys?

‘I thought it would be good for Marco to take a look at everything while he’s here,’ explained Brad, trying to smooth things over.

‘Sure,’ Gina forced a smile, knowing she couldn’t possibly say no to any request from Brad Redford.

‘Papà, I want to look round the hotel too,’ Daniela whispered, tugging on Marco’s sleeve. ‘You said we could.’

‘I know, cara, but we might not have time. Let’s see later. You know I have to do some work first.’

‘But Papà …’ Daniela began.

‘I can take her if you want,’ Issy offered, glancing across at Brad to check that he had no objections. ‘You don’t need me for this bit. I can give her the grand tour, then bring her back when you’ve finished.’

‘Would you?’ Marco looked uncertain.

‘Please Papà!’ Daniela begged.

‘Well … It would make things much easier.’

‘Then that’s settled.’ Issy smiled. ‘We could even go down to the bar and get gelato.’

Daniela’s mouth fell open. ‘I love gelato!’

‘If you’re sure we’re not imposing?’

‘Not at all. OK with you, Brad?’

‘I want gelato,’ Brad grinned.

‘Work first, gelato later.’ Issy grinned back.

‘Thanks so much, Issy,’ Marco smiled gratefully, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘I appreciate it.’

‘I’ll come with you if you like,’ Gina heard herself say, though she wasn’t sure why. She had a million and one things to do today, and this was definitely not on the agenda, but Brad Redford always used the hotel, and she intended that he always would, despite his demanding stuntman.

‘You’re not too busy?’ Brad said.

‘Never too busy for our VIP clients,’ Gina said, smiling at Daniela, who grinned back. ‘Lead the way.’

Chapter 8

Lombardy, February 1995

Dario Capello leaned forwards, adjusting his bodyweight to the steep incline, panting lightly with exertion and from the bulkiness of his backpack as he made his way up the sheer side of the mountain from the foothills below. The surrounding countryside was beautiful, with picturesque villages clinging to the Alpine slopes, plateaus of densely wooded areas, dazzling blue lakes nestled in the higher reaches, and snow on the ancient granite peaks. Right now, Dario and his fellow climber, Giuseppe Agostini, were working their way slowly up the craggy and dangerous rock face, skywards towards the peak.

Dario stopped to catch his breath, squinting as he looked around, trying to find a crag or outcrop against which to anchor himself while he thought about his next step. Below him, Giuseppe stopped too, waiting as Dario scoped out the rocks above.

‘I just hope, when we get to the top, it’s where we think we should be, and we haven’t taken a wrong turn.’

‘All roads lead to Rome, amico,’ shrugged Giuseppe, as he squinted in the sunlight.

‘I hope not. We’re supposed to be in Lombardy.’

‘The only way now is up,’ Giuseppe grinned.

Dario rolled his eyes at the bad joke. ‘Anyway, we’re about halfway up now,’ Dario said. ‘I think there is a ledge above me. Hang on, I can get a handle on it and pull myself over.’