Read Online Veretti’s Dark Vengeance by Lucy Gordon - Free Book Online

combined athleticism and negligent grace, and his handsome face. But more than these was his air of assurance, his assumption that he was a lion among jackals.
And the winged lion was the symbol of Venice. They were everywhere. From her hotel window Helena could see one atop a tall pillar staring out over the water, proudly announcing that this was his city, under his protection, and under his command.
There was no mistaking that look, she realised, either in the stone animal, or here in this apparently civilised gathering. The meaning was the same both times.
Salvatore had seen her. He gave her a brief bow of recognition and took the first chance to come to her.
‘I’m glad you’re here. Clara showed me your gift, and I wanted to thank you for putting it in Antonio’s name.’
‘Of course I did. After all, he was my husband, even though you don’t see it that way-’
‘Please.’ He held up his hand. ‘Surely we can put that aside for tonight? Let me just tell you that you look beautiful without you reading anything hostile into it.’
He was charming, yet there was also something unreal about this conversation. At their last meeting he’d incited her then refused to make love to her with a cool assurance that was almost an insult. Now he was behaving as though that had never happened and, as before, he was making her veer between opposing moods with alarming speed. One moment it would have been a pleasure to slap his over-confident face. The next, she found herself responding to him.
He leaned close to murmur, ‘You know we’re being watched, don’t you? The whole of Venice knows about us.’
‘But just exactly what do they know?’ she said. ‘Or-more to the point-what do they think they know?’
Salvatore smiled faintly. ‘A nice distinction. I guess you could make them believe anything you wanted. It’s an art you might teach me.’
‘Oh, I think you know a few tricks of your own,’ she teased. ‘And I’m always willing to learn new ones.’
‘Now you’re not being fair,’ he protested. ‘If I said you were up to every trick you’d insist that I’d insulted you.’
‘Of course. And the annoying thing is that if I said it about you it would be a compliment, no matter how insulting I tried to make it.’
‘And you’d try very hard.’
‘Without a doubt.’
They laughed together. In the surrounding crowd heads turned. Knowing looks were exchanged.
‘Clara tells me that you always donate one of the best pieces,’ she said. ‘I’m longing to see it.’
‘Let me show you.’
She gasped when she saw his gift, a large eagle, seemingly coming in to land with wings swept back. It was made of black glass shot through with silver which glittered and winked depending on the angle of the viewer.
‘That’s beautiful,’ she said sincerely.
‘It’s going to have first place among the new collection that will be unveiled soon. I look forward to your own collection with trepidation.’
The new Larezzo collection wasn’t completely finished, but she would never tell him that.
Next to the glorious eagle her horse looked conventional. She must have showed it in her face because he said, ‘There’s always a contest to see whose gift raises the most money for charity. You’ll be an easy winner.’
‘That’s nice of you, but I don’t think so.’
‘I’ll take a bet on it. Franco!’
A plump, prosperous-looking man near-by turned at his call and beamed. When Salvatore had introduced them to each other he said, ‘Franco likes nothing better than a wager. Here’s the deal: I’ll wager that Helena’s piece of Larezzo glassware will attract a higher bid than my eagle.’
‘Name the sum,’ Franco said in delight.
‘Ten thousand euro,’ Salvatore said at once.
The other two gaped at him.
‘I trust my instincts,’ he added. ‘The horse is a very fine piece, as is all Larezzo glass. What about it, Franco?’
‘Done!’ They shook hands.
The action attracted immediate attention and a small crowd