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‘Your dad should be done with his meeting soon. Let’s finish up here, then go and see if we can find them.’

‘Already?’ Daniela looked disappointed. ‘Why do grown-ups like working so much? It’s much better to do painting and reading and dancing instead.’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Gina laughed. ‘But here’s the thing – I’m actually working right now. My job means I get to hang out with you and eat gelato. What could be better than that?’

Daniela looked thoughtful, then broke into a smile. ‘I guess you’re right, but I wish I could stay here a bit longer. Can I come and see you again, next time my dad has to come here?’

Gina felt a surge of affection towards Daniela. She found herself thinking that perhaps Issy was right – perhaps Marco was a good guy. Anyone with a daughter this sweet couldn’t be all bad. ‘Of course you can,’ Gina promised. ‘I need help eating more of this delicious gelato.’

Chapter 10

Venice, February 1995

Lucia hurried along the corridors of the White Palace. Outwardly, she was as imperious as ever, but in reality she was on a mission. And, like a heat-seeking missile, Lucia de Santis always hit her target.

Massimo scurried behind her, carrying her Hermès handbag. Until she had a new assistant, he would have to do. Besides, as her personal butler, he was supposed to be at her beck and call twenty-four seven, so she felt sure he could cope with holding a Birkin – at least until her agent arrived.

Lucia was attracting stares, sashaying through the hotel as though she were on a catwalk, hearing the excited whispers that followed her wherever she went. Lucia didn’t mind – in fact, she positively revelled in the attention. She couldn’t stand these so-called stars who bleated on about privacy; they’d soon start complaining if people stopped shouting their names. Give the public what they want – and more. That was Lucia’s motto.

She strolled past the reception desk, towards the entrance to the gardens where she’d last seen Brad and the two other men. If her calculations were correct, they’d be emerging right about now—

‘Brad, what a surprise!’ Lucia exclaimed, embracing him, reaching up from her diminutive frame to kiss him on both cheeks.

Brad looked taken aback by this bombshell bearing down on him, in a whirl of platinum-blonde hair and Chanel No. 5 perfume, but he recovered quickly from his surprise. He was used to excited women throwing themselves at him.

‘La Leonessa,’ he grinned, kissing her hand. ‘It’s an honour.’

‘We should be careful,’ Lucia giggled, with a playful wag of her finger. ‘This is how rumours start. One stray paparazzo lurking behind a pot plant and we’ll be all over the front pages tomorrow morning.’

Brad grinned his lazy grin, completely unfazed. ‘Well, we are sleeping next to one another.’

A momentary look of confusion flashed across Lucia’s beautiful face.

‘You’re just down the hall, aren’t you?’ Brad raised an eyebrow suggestively, as Lucia burst into peals of laughter, placing a hand flirtatiously on his arm.

‘Oh, you are wicked, Signor Redford. Now I shan’t be able to sleep for excitement, knowing that you’re so close by.’ She pouted her lips and batted her eyelashes coyly.

‘Holler if you need me,’ Brad joked.

Lucia was purring like a Rolls-Royce. ‘I’ll bear that in mind … Now, Signor Redford, you must tell me …’ She looked up at him innocently. ‘Is it true you’re in Venice to make a movie?’

‘Well, strictly between you and me …’ Brad teased, knowing that the story had been in all the newspapers. ‘Yes, it’s true.’

‘The new High Voltage film?’

‘Don’t tell me you’re a fan,’ Brad exclaimed, in faux shock.

‘How could I not be? The action, the excitement, the men …’ Lucia growled. ‘And are you filming at the opera?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ Brad replied ruefully.

‘What?’ Lucia recoiled in mock horror. ‘But no film in Venice is complete without La Fenice. Or without …’ She let the moment hang before playing her trump card, ‘La Leonessa! Just imagine it – an extraordinary scene at the opera. Me, looking ravishing in a dress that displays all of my …’ she glanced downwards so that Brad and Marco inadvertently looked at her fulsome cleavage, ‘… acting talent, while I sing Puccini’s “O mio babbino caro”. My voice, soaring to a crescendo, as our hero races around the city …’

Lucia trailed off, having drawn the image in Brad’s mind, leaving it to take effect. She leaned in close, lowering her voice. ‘I’ll have my people call your people,’ she murmured with a triumphant smile, as Brad’s forehead creased in thought.

Across the hotel, Gina and Daniela were walking towards the elevators, making their way back to Brad’s suite. Issy had gone on ahead, and Daniela was chattering away about her friend’s party, telling Gina how much fun it had been on the opening night of Carnevale. She was very sweet and sparky, and her enthusiasm for life was joyous; Gina was surprised how much she’d enjoyed spending time with her.

‘And I made frittelle with my nanny, Rosina, and every single one of them got eaten – Sofia said they were delicious and—’