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‘All I’m trying to say is that she may not be the person you think she is. How much do you really know about her?’ Lucia paused to let her words sink in. ‘You need a woman you can trust, Marco, especially with a daughter who’s been through so much. Gina is little more than a glorified hotel receptionist – don’t you think you deserve better? If not for your sake, then for Daniela’s. You don’t know a single thing about her. Think about it.’

Although Marco had been prepared to dismiss whatever Lucia told him, her words had hit a nerve. How much did he know about Gina? She’d been deliberately evasive when he’d asked her about her background – at the time, he hadn’t pushed too much, but now he wondered about the reasons for that. And if there was a detective asking questions about her …

Like Lucia said, he hadn’t considered his daughter in all of this. All he’d thought about was himself – how he deserved some happiness after these past few years. But he shouldn’t have been so selfish, and he shouldn’t have jumped in so quickly with Gina. Lucia was right. He needed to think about his daughter too. And perhaps, after the way Gina had behaved this morning, it was better for them both if they didn’t see one another. Perhaps, as Gina had said, their fledgling relationship had been a mistake. Perhaps Marco was lucky to be out of it.

‘You have my number,’ Lucia purred. ‘Call me if you get lonely. Now, let’s have a drink,’ she suggested enticingly, leaving Marco wondering if he should forget about Gina and succumb to the charms of La Leonessa after all.

Chapter 29

Issy pulled down the elaborately decorated silver mask and gazed at her reflection in the rococo mirror. It was as though butterflies were tap dancing in her stomach, as she felt alternate waves of excitement and nerves. She knew that she was probably blowing this evening out of proportion – Brad had only invited her because his wife couldn’t attend and he didn’t want to waste the sought-after ticket – but Issy couldn’t help but feel that tonight had a magical quality about it, the air full of possibilities. Surely only wonderful, magical things could happen to her in this beautiful dress, she thought, gazing at the layers of baby blue tulle as they pooled around her ankles.

There was a light knock on the door and her heart swooped, knowing it would be Brad. Shyly, Issy opened the door, hardly daring to meet his eyes. Usually she wouldn’t be so nervous around him, but tonight the boundaries were blurred and it was both confusing and thrilling.

‘Oh, Iz,’ he gasped. Beneath the mask, Issy felt herself blush at his reaction, and was secretly thrilled that she could elicit this response from him.

‘Do I look OK?’ she teased, turning a slow pirouette so that he could admire her. ‘You won’t be ashamed to be seen with me?’

‘Issy, you look more than OK. You look beautiful,’ Brad said softly, and Issy heard something else in his tone too. Sadness? Regret?

But Issy didn’t dwell on the thought, unable to keep the smile from her face at his words. Brad Redford thought she was beautiful, and tonight she would be on his arm at one of the most exclusive events on the Carnival calendar.

‘Hey, we match,’ she grinned, as she took in what Brad was wearing – a nobleman’s outfit in royal blue trimmed with silver. He wore a tricorn hat decorated with silver feathers, on top of a grey wig, and with a full face mask, so no one would ever suspect that a Hollywood megastar was in their midst.

‘Of course,’ Brad laughed. ‘If we’re going together, we have to coordinate.’

Issy glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘What time is it? Hadn’t we better leave soon? Do you have everything? I have a little space in my clutch bag in case you—’

‘Issy,’ Brad interrupted her. ‘Tonight you’re not my assistant, you’re my guest. We’re going to have an incredible time, and I don’t want you to worry about a thing. OK?’

‘OK,’ Issy giggled.

‘Then let’s go. Your carriage – well, your boat – awaits, m’lady.’

Il Ballo del Doge was unlike anything Issy had ever seen before. The guests arrived by boat directly from the Grand Canal, disembarking and ascending a short flight of steps before being ushered through a stone archway that led directly into a courtyard belonging to the historic Palazzo Pisani Moretta. Brad showed their tickets to a security guard dressed in a black Carnival costume, and they followed the passageway to one of the most beautiful palazzos Issy had seen during her time in Venice.

The path opened up into a secret garden, lit by flaming torches, with the stately house rising three storeys in front of them, and figures milling around on the balconied roof terrace. Lights were being projected onto the building’s façade, in a whirl of colours and patterns, and through the Gothic arched windows Issy could see a throng of people in glamorous costumes. Baroque-style rock music drifted out from the building, along with a babble of chatter and laughter, everyone inside clearly having a wonderful time.

Issy felt a frisson of excitement as they walked up to the enormous double doors that had been thrown wide open. Costumed waiters flanked the steps on either side, holding gold trays loaded with flutes of bubbling champagne.

‘Buonasera, signora, signore. I wish you both a magical evening.’

‘Grazie,’ Issy replied, taking a glass as they stepped inside.

‘Wow,’ she marvelled, staring all around, trying and failing to take everything in. They were standing in an enormous entrance hall, lit by a series of coloured spotlights and ornate sconces, with chandeliers hanging overhead. A grand staircase swept up the middle of the hall, with costumed couples gliding up and down as though they’d been transported back to the eighteenth century. Around the room was a series of white stone plinths on which living statues slowly moved from one position to the next, as though engaged in a continual slow dance. Acrobats were suspended from the ceiling, tethered in folds of silk, performing an incredible aerial display, while magicians and fortune tellers mingled with the crowd, surprising and delighting.

Issy had attended the Oscars, the Golden Globes and the Baftas with Brad, but the buzz had been nothing like this. It was like entering another world, and it felt as though anything could happen.

‘What shall we do first?’ Issy wondered, raising her voice to be heard over the crowd.

‘Let’s take a look around,’ Brad suggested. ‘And let’s find a quiet corner where I can take my mask off and drink my champagne. Here,’ he said, reaching out for her. ‘I don’t want to lose you.’

His fingers wrapped around hers, and Issy felt a sharp stab of desire at his touch, a sudden longing to have his hands all over her body. She followed him through the tightly packed crowd and felt glad that she was hidden behind her mask, as though her thoughts might be visible on her face. She imagined what it would be like if tonight was reality – if she and Brad were actually a couple, able to hold hands and do whatever they pleased without having to hide. Tonight, at this ball, in the dark, intoxicating atmosphere, it felt as though fantasies might come true.

They passed through to the next room, where a giant feast was laid out. Waiters were circulating with trays of canapés and champagne throughout the building, but here food was piled high on a dining table that must have been thirty feet long, like the centrepiece of a medieval feast.

‘Are you hungry?’ asked Brad.

‘Not yet,’ Issy said honestly. There was so much, it was overwhelming. She felt as though she didn’t need to eat, that the excitement would be enough to sustain her.