‘Please stop,’ her voice trembled as she tried to pull away. For a crazy moment she contemplated jumping into the canal to escape, but her heavy gown would instantly weigh her down. She thought about kicking them in the groin, wondering how much protection their costumes offered.
‘Leave me alone,’ she hissed, but the men held her tighter and fear rose within her, as long suppressed memories bubbled to the surface. She had to find a way to escape …
‘Woah, Iz, take a look at this! It’s unbelievable,’ Brad Redford exclaimed, sounding awestruck.
Issy couldn’t help but giggle at Brad’s delight. This was a man who’d flown a fighter jet over the Grand Canyon, who’d bungee jumped at the Hoover Dam, and base jumped from Sydney Harbour Bridge. Now here he was getting excited by playing dress-up in Venice.
‘It’s pretty amazing,’ Issy conceded. She’d grown up in a small town in the Midwest and, though she’d seen some incredible sights during her time working for Brad, she’d never experienced anything quite like Carnevale.
They were in St Mark’s Square, right at the heart of the action, and everyone was splendidly opulent and over the top, with men in tricorn hats and bauta masks, and women looking like grand ladies in wigs and long gloves. There was a distant scent of smoke in the air, from revellers who’d set off early fireworks, and Venice looked other-worldly. Issy felt as though she’d stepped back in time a century or two, thinking that the city could have been a set from one of Brad’s movies.
‘How’s that costume working out for you?’ Brad asked, and Issy could hear the smile in his voice beneath his wolf’s-head mask.
‘I like it. I’m going to start dressing like this every day,’ she joked.
‘You should. It fits you to perfection,’ Brad said, and Issy felt glad she was wearing her mask to hide the flush she felt rush to her face.
Gina had really come through for them, and Issy was immensely grateful. It was impossible to hire a Carnival costume at such short notice – they were all booked out months in advance – but Gina had waved her magic wand and half an hour later two garment bags had been delivered to Brad’s suite. One contained a nobleman’s outfit in royal blue with gold brocade that made Brad look, in Issy’s mind, like the prince from Beauty and the Beast. It was teamed with a wolf mask that entirely covered his face and hair, ensuring he couldn’t be recognized.
For Issy, Gina had sourced the most beautiful dusky pink silk ballgown, with brocade panels and a lace ruff around the neckline emphasizing her cleavage. Issy had left her red curls loose, with a spectacular feather hat perched on top, and a beautifully decorated half-face mask which made her feel enigmatic and sexy.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ Brad growled.
‘Where to?’ Issy’s heart was beating wildly, caught up in the heady whirl of the city.
‘Wherever we want. Venice is at our feet. Here, take my hand. I don’t want to lose you.’
Issy obliged, his large, gloved hand closing over her small one.
It doesn’t mean anything, she reprimanded herself. You need this job – you can’t be such a dreamer, Issy.
As they left the crush of Piazza San Marco, and moved into the ancient, atmospheric streets around the Rio de le Procuratie, the crumbling, pastel-coloured buildings towering above the narrow canal had a faded grandeur that felt whimsical and romantic, the ornate stone bridges like something from a fairy tale. She noticed a group turn to stare at them and squeezed Brad’s hand in warning. His voice was loud, and his American drawl distinctive. ‘Let’s try not to draw attention to ourselves. If you get mobbed by a group of fans, we’re screwed. Shit, I should never have let you go out without a bodyguard.’
‘Relax, Iz. No one’s gonna recognize me. Just enjoy the night. Hell, we could do anything we want. We could … go for a drink in a bar. Or buy some pastries from that street seller over there. Or find a spot to sit and watch the street performers.’
Issy couldn’t help but laugh. ‘That’s the most exciting thing you can think of?’
‘It is exciting for me. I never get the chance to be off duty. To not be Brad Redford. For me, the ordinary is extraordinary.’
Issy nodded, distracted as they passed a souvenir shop. It sold the usual tourist trinkets – keyrings, magnets, painted plates of Venetian scenes – but she was charmed. ‘Oh, look at those,’ she exclaimed, spotting a display of snow globes. ‘I love them! I mean, I know they’re tacky, but they’re so cute at the same time.’
‘I’ll buy one for you if you want,’ Brad offered.
‘That’s OK,’ Issy demurred politely, but she felt a longing inside.
‘No, I’d like to. When do I ever get the chance to head into a store – that’s not been closed especially for me – and buy something like a normal person?’
‘Well, I don’t want to deprive you of that experience,’ Issy laughed. ‘Sure, I’d love it. Thank you.’
The two of them headed inside, and Brad asked, ‘Which one’s your favourite?’
Issy examined the miniature scenes inside their glass domes, showing Saint Mark’s Basilica, or the Doge’s Palace, or Piazza San Marco. ‘This one,’ she pronounced finally, holding up a globe depicting a gondolier rowing beneath the Rialto Bridge. She shook it up and the snow whirled around like a magical storm, finally floating back down and settling at the bottom.
‘Hey, that could be you and me,’ Brad murmured, pointing to the couple snuggled inside the gondola, and Issy wondered if she had misheard him. Gently, he took the snow globe from her, holding it as though it were made of the finest porcelain. Then he strode up to the counter with a flourish, as Issy looked around the tiny shop, crammed with items like an Aladdin’s cave.
‘Um … Iz?’ she heard Brad call.
Issy was beside him in an instant. ‘Everything OK?’ she asked.
‘You know, these costumes don’t really have a place for your wallet. I didn’t bring anything with me.’
Issy burst out laughing, remembering that Brad – like the Queen – didn’t carry cash. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got this,’ she smiled, pulling her purse out of her cross-body bag.
‘Use my card,’ he insisted, as she pulled it out and paid for the souvenir.
‘Thank you,’ she said to Brad. She knew it was a small gesture, but to her it meant a lot.
‘Thank you for saving my ass – again. Now, let’s hit the city!’
Chapter 5
‘I don’t think the lady wants to dance tonight.’
Gina’s head snapped up as she heard a deep, commanding voice, and another man appeared framed in the sotoportego. He was dressed as an aristocrat in a deep red velvet outfit trimmed with gold brocade, and a matching cape. He wore white knee-length stockings with white gloves covering his hands, and he carried a jewel-topped walking stick as a sceptre. But it was his mask that was most striking – a golden bear, its mouth open in a snarl, that somehow seemed to match his tall, muscular frame.
The men stumbled to a halt, their unpleasant dance interrupted. ‘Who are you, the fun police? Everything’s fine. We were all enjoying ourselves weren’t we, bella donna?’
Gina’s eyes flashed with fury. ‘Speak for yourselves.’
