‘Lift your head,’ she agonised. ‘Look up!’
He had almost reached the bridge. In a moment it would be too late. Driven by desperation she wrenched off one of her shoes and tossed it over the side. It struck his hat, knocking it off, before landing exactly at his feet.
Then he looked up, and there was the face she’d come to Venice seeking, the face of the mandolin player. Eyes of fierce, startling blue, set in a laughing face, seemed to seize her, hold her, almost hypnotise her, so that she found herself smiling back.
‘Buon giorno, bella signorina,’ said Guido Calvani.
CHAPTER TWO
NO SOONER were the words out of his mouth than he’d vanished under the bridge. Dulcie dashed to the other side as he emerged and began to negotiate his way to the shore. She took a quick look at the picture to make sure she had the right man. Yes, there he was, smiling at Jenny, playing the mandolin.
Thank goodness he didn’t have a passenger, she thought as she hobbled off the bridge and along to where he’d pulled in.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she called. ‘I just turned my foot and the shoe slid off and went right over the side of the bridge before I could grab it. And then it hit you on the head. I’ll never forgive myself if you’re hurt.’
He grinned, holding up the dainty gilt sandal with its absurdly high heel.
‘But I am hurt, very badly. Not in my head but-’ he bowed gallantly with his hand over his heart.
This was what she’d expected. Practised charm. Right! She was ready for him.
He’d pulled in by a short flight of steps that ran down into the water.
‘If you will sit down, I’ll return this to you in the proper fashion,’ he said.