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older woman had told her changed everything, but she couldn’t embroil Sonia in her difficulties. She had a child to protect now and must stand on her own two feet. ‘If you could call a taxi that would be great, but if you don’t mind I’ll decide where I’m going when it gets here….’

CHAPTER TWO
    I T WASN ’ T as if she had any ties holding her in England, Carrie reflected as the plane banked steeply on the final approach to Niroli and, in spite of her apprehension, she couldn’t suppress her excitement at the thought of seeing Nico again. Her hands tightened around the in-flight magazine in which she had found pictures of the palace taken from the air. Just the thought of trying to gain entrance to somewhere so splendid made her heart race. The question was, could she do it?
    She had to do it, Carrie determined, stuffing the magazine back in its net. Staring out of the window, she tried to distract herself. She could see the bright blue ocean far below dotted with tiny boats and, in the distance, the coastline of Niroli, edged with pale golden sand. The island looked so tranquil from the sky she didn’t want to think about the drama that was about to unfold, but she wouldn’t dodge it, either. There was some irony in the situation. When Nico had hired her he’d said it was her quiet perseverance that had brought her to his notice, and now that same determination was about to be turned against him….
    She was pregnant because they’d had sex at the office party. It was such a cliché, she could hardly believe it herself, but she had always been ready for Nico; he’d only had to look at her a certain way. She had been hovering on the fringes of the party with a wineglass in her hand. She wasn’t good at small talk, the words would never come quickly enough, and if they did, they were invariably the wrong words. People couldn’t be bothered to wait while she tried to find something witty or fascinating to say. She hadn’t drunk a lot, just a glass or two of wine. In fact, she had been wondering how soon she could slip away without causing offence. It had been during one of those ‘poised for flight’ moments that Nico had sought her out.
    â€˜All alone, Carrie?’
    Her heart performed a perfect somersault. Nico Fierezza had never spoken to her outside office hours. Yet he’d been there standing right next to her, so close she could smell his cologne and could separate each complex note: musk, sandalwood, vanilla and an additional edge of something that hinted of warm water and toothpaste and long, hot, soapy showers—
    â€˜Daydreaming?’ He’d broken into her thoughts with that low, husky voice that’d always made her tremble inwardly when she was taking notes for him.
    â€˜That’s not like you, Carrie,’ he’d observed.
    The note of censure had made her stare up into slate-blue eyes she had never felt brave enough to study before. Then she’d seen they had a striking pewter ring around the iris and that the whites were very white against his tan.
    â€˜I’ve been watching you….’
    The fact that he’d even noticed her was news, indeed, and the touch of humour in his voice had ensured that her attention remained fixed to his face. But, as usual, nothing sparkling had flown to her lips. It’d been the most exciting moment of her life and she’d been speechless. She’d taken in Nico’s lashes, so long and thick and black like the stubble on his cheeks, and then her pulse had gone wild when he’d smiled into her eyes.
    â€˜Are you all right? Can I get you something before we land?’
    Shocked into the present, Carrie gasped out loud. She had been gripping the seat arms, she realised, which the flight attendant had mistaken for nerves. ‘Nothing, nothing, thank you….’
    As the woman walked away Carrie tried to shut the memories out, but Nico’s