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‘Marco,’ the sultry tones purred down the line, and Marco recognized them straight away.

‘Lucia,’ he said, his tone resigned.

‘I hoped you’d sound happier to hear from me,’ she sulked, and he could almost hear her pouting down the line. ‘Did you get my present?’

‘Yes, I did. Thank you,’ he smiled, trying not to be churlish as he remembered her gift. ‘It was very generous.’

‘What can I say, I’m a generous woman. Have you forgiven me?’

‘It’s water under the bridge now. What can I do for you, Lucia?’

‘I need to see you. Right away.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m heading back to the city, and I have to be on set in a couple of hours.’

‘Please,’ Lucia insisted, and Marco was surprised to hear her be so polite. She didn’t usually request – she simply demanded. ‘I’ll come to you. No paparazzi this time, I promise.’

Marco frowned, wondering what could be so urgent. ‘Is this about Gina?’ he asked, wondering if that could explain her strange behaviour earlier.

Lucia hesitated. ‘Partly. Look, can you meet me at Vino Vita on Campo San Zaccaria, in one hour? It’s discreet, I promise. I know the owner. No tricks this time, I promise.’

Despite himself, Marco was intrigued. There were worse things in the world than being pursued by a wealthy, beautiful diva. And given that Gina had made it quite clear she wasn’t interested, a little attention from Lucia could help salve that wounded ego. ‘OK,’ he agreed. ‘But don’t be late.’

To his surprise, Lucia laughed. ‘Me? I’m never late.’

Marco found that he was smiling as he hung up.

Vino Vita was tucked away in a narrow street, with a plain green awning outside and no distinctive features. Lucia appeared to be as good as her word, and had chosen somewhere unobtrusive; a quick scan revealed no obvious paparazzi in the area.

The bar had only just opened for the day, and they were the first customers. Lucia appeared to know the owner, and asked if he would mind keeping the doors shut for another hour. Marco wasn’t sure how much she had paid him, but he agreed.

They took their seats well away from the windows in a quiet corner at the back, and the waiter brought them both a coffee. Lucia was dressed to kill as usual, in the white trouser suit with no shirt that she’d worn earlier to her meeting with Gina, although now she’d added a pair of Manolo Blahnik heels. Her hair was slicked back and her make-up was immaculate. She looked stunning, Marco thought; he would have had to be blind not to notice, but he was determined not to get sidetracked.

‘So,’ Marco began, settling back in his chair, a smile playing around his lips. ‘What’s all this about, Lucia?’

Lucia took a sip of coffee, taking her time to reply. Marco noticed an imprint of her red lipstick on the white cup. ‘I had a detective come to see me this morning,’ she told him.

‘Have you been misbehaving?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow, determined to play her at her own game.

‘Not this time. He was asking questions – but not about me.’

‘No? Who was he asking about?’

A slow smile spread across Lucia’s beautiful face, and she drew out the moment before finishing triumphantly, ‘Gina Bellini.’

Confusion flashed across Marco’s brow. ‘Gina? What did he want to know?’ Marco was annoyed with himself for caring.

‘I don’t think I’m at liberty to disclose …’

A flash of exasperation spiked through Marco. ‘Then, why did you bring me here, Lucia?’

Lucia tapped her long nails on the table, taking her time. ‘Are the two of you together? You and Gina?’

‘Why do you want to know?’ Marco said. Lucia regarded him like a cat toying with a mouse, and Marco knew she wouldn’t tell him any more unless he played along. ‘No, we’re not seeing each other, it’s just business,’ he said, though it pained him to admit it.

‘Good,’ Lucia said, with a smile of satisfaction. ‘I think you’ve made the right decision.’

‘Why does it matter to you?’