BRIEF ENCOUNTER by CATHERINE GEORGE MILLS & BOON LIMITED ETON HOUSE,18-24 PARADISE ROAD RICHMOND, SURREY TW91 SR CHAPTER ONE. The entrance hall of the Villa Bellagio was a highceilinged room with thin rugs on gleaming wood floors, exquisite wall frescoes and chandeliers like great bouquets of fragile blossom fashioned from Venetian glass. Silver-framed photographs of distinguished visitors to the hotel stood on a grand piano in the corner, old, fragile porcelain gleamed from glass cases, and sunshine warm and gold as honey poured through glass doors open to a shady garden where a swimming pool glittered like a jewel in its setting of sheltering evergreens. But the most recent arrival at the hotel had no eyes for the beauty of her surroundings. She stared at the receptionist in disbelief. "My sister isn't here?" "I regret not, sigriora : The receptionist smiled a little uneasily, and handed over a letter from one of the pigeonholes on the wall behind her. "Sophie left this for you, Miss. Maitland. When you have read it the porter will escort you to your room." Olivia opened the letter with foreboding, cold dismay hidden behind her large sunglasses as she read Sophie's familiar scrawl. Darling Liv, don't be angry with me for standing you up. It's only for a day or two until you get to Pordenone. I had the chance of a little holiday with my friend Andrea so I grabbed it. I know it means leaving you on your own for a day or two until you get to the Villa Nerone, but you do thingsqlike that all the time in your work anyway, and I've given strict instructions to everyone at the Bellagio to look after you, arrange a trip to Venice-anything you want. So till Saturday, ciao, cara, lots of love, Sophie. Olivia put the note away, managed a smile for the handsome young man waiting with her luggage, then followed him from the hall through the open doors, skirting the garden and 'the pool as they made for a colonnade with stone arches open to the garden on one side, a two-storey row of bedrooms on the other. Sophie's absence had come as such a shock that Olivia felt suddenly weary as she climbed a flight of smooth stone steps to the upper floor. The porter ushered her into a large, pretty bedroom with a view of the pool from its trio of windows, told her tea was available at one of the tables on the terrace, then smiled with pleasure in response to her generous tip. Olivia closed the door behind him, stared abstractedly at the delightful vista of pool and gardens for a moment or two, then told herself t9 snap out of it. Sophie was no longer a child. And from her letter she was obviously well and happy, and would be in Pordenone in less than forty-eight hours. So for the time being the obvious thing was to get on with the job and note down first impressions of the Villa Bellagio. In her capacity as a senior tour consultant for a specialist travel agency, Olivia was on an expenses paid research trip to three hotels in Northern Italy. This afternoon she'd arrived at Marco Polo airport in Venice, picked up the car hired in advance from London, and driven from Venice on the Treviso road to make her first stop at the Villa Bellagio, where her sister was working as a receptionist during her summer vacation from university. Sophie was reading French and Italian, and had suggested the Bellagio to Olivia as perfect for the discerning traveller, as well as for a little get together for the two sisters. Too bad one of us preferred to take off with someone else instead, thought Olivia wryly. Postponing notes and unpacking, Olivia brushed her glossy short hair into shape, decided both her face and her crisp cotton shirt and skirt would do, and left her room to go in search of tea. This was served on the terrace under a striped umbrella at a table with a pink linen cloth and thin china, where she was provided with pots of hot water, slices of lemon and a supply of tea bags of flavours varying from English breakfast to the lesser known delights of strawberry and jasmine In the warm afternoon sunshine, with the happy shouts of children splashing in the pool under the eyes of their lazing elders, olivia began to unwind as she sipped her tea, the shock of Sophie's absence gradually receding. She was alone at the small cluster of tables, at a time when most people would be changing for dinner, or still sunbathing round the pool. Her professional concentration reasserted itself as she took note of the statues and the great stone urns filled with hydrangeas like great globes of coral against the blinding white gravel of the terrace. Sophie was right, she decided. Villa Bellagio was a very beautiful place. And now she was more in command of herself it was time to do her job and begin her report on it. Olivia refused offers of more tea from the hovering in the comments section of the page, and put her book waiters and went for a stroll round the pool, smiling away in favour of a long soak in the bath as she watched a trio of tanned, excited children She was just emerging from it, swathed in towels, splashing each other under the indulgent gaze of their when the telephone rang. She raced to pick it up, then parents. Although it was early evening by this time, slumped down on the bed in relief at the sound of her the sun was still hot, and Olivia gave in to temptation and stretched out on one of the steamer chairs fa- "Sophie, thank heavens! Where on earth are y tigued more by worry about Sophie's absence than"In Florence! Isn't it a fantastic place? You always the journey from London. The Alitalia flight had been swift and punctual, with breathtaking glimpses of made me so envious about it, and now I've seen it glittering waterways and gilded domes as they de- for myself-the statue of David's just as incredscended towards Venice. Nor had the drive to the iblq- q" Bellagio presented any problems, thanks to Sophie's Never mind David, broke in Olivia sternly. Why clear directions. In fact, Olivia thought, as she got up didn'h Lu ld mq q o qsbe Yre I left?" to make for her room, normally she would be full of O, iv, on c you were coming anyway, energy at this point. But it was useless to worry any and this all happenedqa bit suddenly, so I had the time more about Sophie. Nothing could be done until their coming to me, and I Il be seeing you in a couple of, Saturday rendezvous at the Villa Nerone, the next stop days, so I jumped at the chance. don' two. I m fine. And I'm not alone." on Olivia's fact-finding mission. " ompany of yours So hie?" When she returned to her room Olivia took out her Who is this c, p "You'll find out on Saturday-Andrea's very keen notebook and recorded her impressions on the decor, to meet you. By the way, I'I'll staying with Andrea's which was simple but charming, with louvred shutters at the windows and plain blue covers on the beds family tonight, so no need to fret. I've told everyone, which, like the rest of the furniture were reproduc- at the hotel to treat you like a queen, and make sure tions of eighteenth-century design. No air- you have everything you wanqlqs you wan on to! conditioning, she noted, but an electronic anti- will accost you, I promise u mosquito device was provided, and the pretty little Oops, there's my money gone. Ciao-" bathroom was generously supplied with towels and all And before Olivia could ask any more questions the shampoos and gels and shoe-cleaning sachets the the line went dead. She put down the phone slowly, modern traveller expected. Despite its general air of not nearly as reassured by Sophie's call as hoped. Her antiquity the hotel was scrupulously clean and well- little sister, she thought, eyes narrowed, was up to kept, Olivia noted in approval; also the lamps worked something. But until it was possible to find out what, and there was a small, well-stocked refrigerator dis- exactly, the only sensible plan was to enjoy some of guised as a cabinet. Olivia wrote a few words of praise the Bellagio's famed cuisine, have an early night and a good sleep, and spend tomorrow in her long anticipated exploration of Venice. Olivia dried and brushed her leaf-brown hair into the cleverly cut layers which framed her face, then applied a minimum of make-up with practised speed. Used to dining alone in strange hotels, she wore her usual type of clothes, a pine-green silk shirt with a tailored cream linen suit, and tonight, with the excuse that her eyes felt dry and full of sand after her intense concentration on the drive from Venice, she added her dark glasses to counteract an unwelcome feeling of vulnerability. This was partly dispelled by her welcome to the dining-room. The head waiter, who introduced himself as Carlo, ushered her to a corner table, where he drew out a chair facing the floodlit garden before handing her a large menu. He clicked his fingers and instantly a young waiter arrived with grissini, the crisp bread sticks Olivia adored, plus a basket of rolls, a dish of butter and some San Pellegrino water for her to sip while she made her choice. Carlo withdrew to let her weigh up the delights of scallops in the chef's special sauce or a plain tomato and mozzarella salad to begin, and when Olivia looked up from her menu she found the tables were filling rapidly, mainly with families and couples, some of whom greeted her pleasantly as they took their places. She chose the salad as prelude to Carlo's recommendation of a mixed grq1 of fish, which was quite superb, with sole, turbot, scampi and scallops as the main attraction. The fish arrived sizzling at the table in its own pan, to be filleted and served by Carlo himself, and Olivia ate with enjoyment, taking mental notes of the simple, exquisitely prepared food, though disappointing the wait...
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