'Disguise?' Darcy broke in weakly.
'You made the effort to look like a million dollars that night. You had to look the part.'
'Luca—'
'You gatecrashed an elite social function attended by some very wealthy people and were careful not to draw too much attention to yourself,' Luca continued grimly, his ex¬pressive mouth hard as iron. 'You refused to identify your¬self in any way and you ensured that I brought you home with me...after all, with the number of staff around your chances of contriving to steal anything from the Palazzo were extremely slim.'
'I didn't do it...do you hear me?' Darcy almost shrieked at him. 'I didn't do it!'
'But you've already confessed that you did steal and sell the ring. Or had you forgotten that reality?'
Darcy's lashes fluttered in bewilderment. Left bereft of breath by that staggering assurance, she pressed a weak hand to her damp brow and tottered backwards into her seat again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
'DONT you recall that sleepy and foolish little confession at the inn?' Luca prompted with a scathing look of derision. 'You admitted that the sale of an antique ring financed roof repairs for your family home and indeed may well have staved off the enforced sale of that home.'
'It was a ring which was stolen from your safe?' Darcy breathed shakily, belatedly making that connection. 'But that's just a stupid coincidence. The ring that my father sold belonged to my family!'
"The Adorata ring is stolen and only a few months later the Fieldings contrive to rescue their dwindling fortunes by the judicious discovery and sale of another ring?' Luca jibed, unimpressed by her explanation. 'There was no other ring! And, since your family estate is still in financial hot water, you must've sold the Adorata for a tithe of its true worth!'
'I've never heard of this Ador-whatever ring that you're talking about, nor have I been involved in any way in either stealing or selling it!' Darcy's taut voice shook, her grow¬ing exhaustion biting deep.
'You were wise enough to wait a while before selling it and you ensured that it was a private sale. Now I hope you also have sufficient wit to know when your back is up against a brick wall,' Luca spelt out icily. 'I want the name of the buyer. And you had better hope and pray for your own sake that I am able to reclaim the Adorata without resorting to legal intervention!'
'It wasn't your wretched ring. I swear it wasn't!' Darcy protested sharply, appalled by his refusal even to stop and take proper account of her arguments in her own defence.
'I don't know who bought it because my father insisted on dealing with the sale. He was a very proud man. He didn't want anybody to know that he was so short of money that he had to sell an heirloom—'
'Why waste my time with these stupid stories?' Luca subjected her to a hard scrutiny, his contempt and his im¬patience with her protests palpable. 'I despise liars. Before I put you back out of my life, you will tell me where that ring is...or you will lose by it.'
It occurred to Darcy then that no matter what she did with Luca, he intended her to lose by it. He had hemmed her in with so many threats she felt trapped. And the shat¬tering revelation that he believed her to be a thief equal to safe-cracking just seemed to stop her weary brain function¬ing altogether.
Only two thoughts stayed in her mind. Luca might still be walking around as if he was sane, but he couldn't be. And possibly he had been watching too many movies in which incredibly immoral calculating women seduced the hero and then turned on him with evil intent. Safe-cracking? A glazed look in her eyes, Darcy contemplated the fact that she couldn't even operate a washing machine without going step by painful step through the instruc-tions ...
'Do you still find it magical?' Luca demanded, above the roar of the motorboat which had collected them from Marco Polo Airport to waft them across the lagoon into the city.
A woman in a waking dream, Darcy gazed out on the Grand Canal. The darkness was dispelled by the lights in the beautiful medieval buildings and on the other craft around them. The grand, sweeping waterway throbbed with life. It was like travelling inside a magnificent painting, she thought privately. She assumed that they were heading to his apartment, but as far as she was concerned they could happily spend the rest of the night getting there.
When the boatman chugged into a mooring at the Palazzo d'Oro, with its splendid Renaissance facade, Darcy was astonished. 'Why are we stopping here?'
"This is my home,' Luca informed her.
'But it c-can't be...' Darcy stammered.
Deftly detaching Zia's solid little body from her arms, Luca stepped out onto the covered walkway semi-screened from the canal by an elaborate run of pillars and arches. At the entrance to the palazzo, an older woman in an apron stood in readiness. She made clucking sounds and extended sturdy arms to receive the sleeping child.