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    Carlo was staring at the file, his hand still protecting it from Cass's destructive intentions. Then slowly, and in a way which held her breath locked inside her chest, be picked it up and replaced it in the drawer, locked it securely, then straightened himself up to his full and imposing six feet odd height, and lifted his eyes back to hers. 'Nevertheless,' he said—no anger, no sarcastic, ‘Miss Marlow'—in fact, with no emotion whatsoever, you will do exactly as I say, or lose Teresa the hard way. And be sure,' he added levelly, 'that, if that is the course you decide to embark upon, then once I win—and I will win, I can promise you that—you will never be allowed
    a step within a hundred miles of your niece again.'
    Acceptance that he meant every word sent Cass stumbling back a step from the desk. 'Then God help you, Mr Valenti,' she breathed, appalled at the depths he was willing to stoop to get his own way. 'Because if you honestly believe that the end justifies the means in this case, then you are wrong. And if Teresa ever finds out how you were prepared to crucify her mother to gain control over her, then she'll hate you for it. Hate you until the day you die. And that, Mr Valenti,' she finished grimly, 'is my promise to you.'
    With that, and while he stood there rendered immobile by her flat-voiced vow, Cass turned and walked away, going to stand by the locked door, chin up, head l, tears of anger washing her eyes. ‘Does that mean you are prepared to do as I ask?'

    Her disgust of him pulsed in the very air separating them as she said quietly, 'It means, Mr Valenti, that I want you to unlock this door so I can remove myself from your contaminated presence.' Green eyes challenged brown to take exception to her contempt, and for a moment she thought he would, his jerky movement enough to put her on her guard.
    Then the eyes were hooding over again, and he forced himself to remain calm despite her provocation, a hand going into his pocket to find the keys as he walked smoothly towards her.
    'You are on my territory now, Miss Marlow,' he reminded her as he reached around her to place the key in the lock, 'and I don't need the permission of a British court to keep Teresa here. I just do it. No mud-slinging— I simply kick you out of my valley and leave you to do battle with the Italian courts. Which means you having to find the time and the money to do it rather than me.'
    Cass shuddered as the cold wind of truth wafted over her. But she refused to let him know it, turning to meet that challenge with all the bravery in her aching soul.
    The key turned in the lock, and he opened the door, stepping back to allow her to leave. Cass did so with her head held high, refusing to say another word.

    CHAPTER THREE
    Terri was sitting up in bed when Cass entered the room. Clutched to her bosom was the big grey rabbit, and she was staring round-eyed between its two floppy ears at the large homely woman who sat chatting away to her in unintelligible Italian, and whose round face was wreathed with smiles.
    'Who is she?' Terri asked curiously, seeming not in the least bit upset that she had woken in a strange bed in a strange room with this strange woman sitting beside her. 'Can't she speak English?'
    'I don't know,' Cass said calmly. 'Why don't you ask her?'
    So she did, hands clasped firmly around bunny's fat belly, eyes about as round as eyes could get. 'Do you speak English?' she enquired like any seasoned tourist.
    The woman burst into a peel of laughter, thoroughly enjoying what she saw as a huge joke. 'A leetle,' she said, squeezing finger and thumb into a half-inch measure of her English ability. 'I Maria!' she then proudly announced.
    Terri looked at the woman, then at her aunt, and informed her blandly, 'She's Maria,' as though Cass's own intelligence didn't stretch as far as her own. 'I'm Terri,' she informed Maria importantly. 'And that lady there is my aunt Cass.'
    ‘Ah, Teresa, eh?' Maria repeated