SAMPLE THE STORY BY READING CHAPTER ONE

The little man with the scarred face was following her again.

Toni Aldridge threw a glance back over her shoulder as she rounded the corner of the Via del Tritone on her way to the Trevi Fountain. She had first noticed the man two days before, when she had been strolling along the Via dei Cerchi, on her visit to the Circo Massimo. He had been walking toward her, and as they had come almost abreast of each other, he had come to a full stop and his intense black eyes had widened in almost shocked surprise.

It was as though he recognized her, but that could not be. This was her first trip to Italy, to Rome. She knew no one here, and she was reasonably certain that nobody knew her.

After all, why should anyone?

True, she was an actress. Or thought she was, she reflected ruefully. She had enjoyed a couple of bit parts in movies, but she had never achieved anything like star billing. No, it was not because he had recognized her face from any of the few films she had been in that he had stared so silently at her.

Then why? Why should the sight of her face have startled him?

She had seen him twice since that first time. Always he had been hovering about while she was on her walking tour of the Eternal City. Always he had been at a distance, as though he were trailing her. He never offered to speak with her, to explain the reason for his constant pursuit. Nor, she admitted to herself, did he seem the sort of man who had picked her for the victim of a holdup. He was no youngster, he was possibly in his forties, and he certainly didn’t look like a thief. He was well dressed; he seemed polite; he did not seem to be a gangster.

Still, Toni worried.

She went faster now, hoping to lose him among the sightseers who might be grouped about the Trevi Fountain. He kept pace with her easily, he did not appear to hurry, yet although she went on at a half run, he kept the same distance behind her.

She frowned. Ought she speak to a poliziotto, one of those polite uniformed police officers whom she saw here and there on the streets? No, no. She didn’t want to appear foolish. She saw sunlight reflect off the big gold bracelet she wore as she clung to her handbag. She paused to push it back farther on her wrist since it was so loose.

When she saw a narrow alleyway, she dodged into it to walk between the high walls of the buildings, clinging to her Gucci handbag. Maybe the little man was a robber. Maybe he was after the lire she had in her bag. If he was, she would fight him.

She threw another glance behind her. He had seen her, was coming along the narrow alleyway at a trot. Toni whimpered, whirled to flee.

That was when she ran into the big man. And bounced.

Big hands caught and held her arms, preventing a fall. Mouth open, eyes wide, she stared up into a heavily sun- bronzed face out of which blue eyes—they were very blue, intensely blue, she thought wildly—stared down at her almost as if they were laughing.

“Well, now. Look what I’ve found.” He grinned.

Thank God! He was an American or sounded like one.

“Please help me,” she babbled. “That little man is following me.”

The blue eyes looked beyond her. “What little man?”

Toni gasped and turned as much as she was able. He had put both those arms about her and was holding her uncomfortably close to him. It seemed to Toni that he was squeezing her quite unnecessarily.

The alleyway was empty.

“He couldn’t have run away so fast,” she gasped.

“Who couldn’t?”

There was laughter in his voice too, as well as in his eyes. Toni scowled up at him, positive that she was amusing him.

“The man who was following me. At a run. He was there, I saw him. And you needn’t think I’m making it up.”

His blond eyebrows rose. “I don’t think any such thing. As a matter of fact, I saw him. A little man with a scar on his cheek?”

Toni nodded, vaguely relieved. For a moment there she had been afraid that she had been imagining her pursuer. She looked up into that bronzed face and realized that this stranger was practically embracing her. She flushed, pushed away from him.

“There’s no need to hold onto me so ... so closely,” she snapped.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

Toni shook herself into some semblance of equanimity. “Quite sure. And ... thank you for helping me.”

“Always glad to help a countrywoman in distress.” He grinned. “Are you certain that you’re feeling well enough to go on alone?”

“Of course I am!”

Those dark-blue eyes pondered her. “Just the same, I’ll walk with you a little while if you don’t mind.” He hesitated, then added, “The little man might come back.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she was quite able to manage by herself, but it occurred to her that having the big man beside her would guarantee her safety. Nobody would come near her with him beside her.

Toni made her lips smile up at him. “I would appreciate that,” she admitted. She went on in a more confidential tone, even as he took her arm and turned her, still holding her arm, “I was just doing a little sightseeing before I tried to get a job.”

“A job? Here in Rome?”

“I’m an actress. I’ve been hoping that I might be able to land a part in a movie.”

He studied her face as he nodded. “You’re beautiful enough to be an actress all right.”

Toni smiled faintly, feeling a surge of pleasure run through her. At least her fright hadn’t turned her into a frump. She wanted desperately to consult her mirror, to check her features, the carefully applied bit of lipstick and eye shadow she had put on that morning. Her black hair framed her face attractively, giving her a somewhat pert look, she knew. At least it had that morning. Right now she was not so sure.

“I—I haven’t had much luck back in the States,” she found herself saying. “I’ve been in a couple of movies—just bit parts really—but I haven’t had the big break all us actresses long for.”

“Your luck will turn,” he told her.

They walked onto one of the curving streets which brought them to the Trevi Fountain. They moved around it, studying it, listening to the splashing waters. Toni admired the grouping of the statuary, the magnificence of the fountain, uneasily aware that the big man beside her was studying her far more than he was the Trevi itself.

“We don’t even know each other,” he said softly. “I’m Bob Sanders.”

“Toni Aldridge,” she murmured.

“Would you care for lunch, Toni? I know a place where actors and actresses go to be seen, maybe to be hired.”

Her heart almost stopped. Her eyes lifted to his for an instant. “Do you mean that? Do you really know such a place?”

“Of course. It’s on the Via Veneto. We’d have to take a long walk or... I could drive you there.”

He waited for her answer. Toni wanted to go to this place, she wanted to be seen, perhaps even to put her name down on a list where some producer might see it and tap her for a part in some film he might be about to make. On the other hand—

She did not know this Bob Sanders. He might be a wonderful man, but he was a stranger. To cover her hesitancy, she stared at the fountain. She wanted desperately to go to the sidewalk café; she wanted to be seen by the movie moguls or by somebody who might give her a part in a movie. But if she went with this Bob Sanders, nobody would take her for an actress. Just a girlfriend. Or a wife.

“It’s the most impressive of all Rome’s fountains,” he said softly.

She turned and looked up at him. “What is?”

“This Trevi Fountain at which you’re staring so hard. It was ordered built by Pope Clement the Twelfth, and it was finished by a man named Niccolo Salvi in 1762. The Palazzo Poli, which you see behind it, gives it a marvelous backdrop. If you toss a coin into its waters, you’ll come back to drop in another. Or so the story has it.”

She fumbled in her Gucci bag, brought out a fifty-lira coin, tossed it, watched the splash it made, then saw it sink. Almost at the same time the man beside her also threw a coin.

“Now shall we go lunch at Doney’s?”

“Is that the name of the place where the movie people go?”

“It is. Will you be my guest?”

“I—I’m afraid not. I—I have an appointment.”

“At least let me see you safely to where it is you have to be. We don’t want that little man annoying you again, do we?”

Toni felt the flush rising in her cheeks. Actually she meant to lose this Bob Sanders, meant to make her way to the Via Veneto alone, sit in one of the chairs at Doney’s, and look around to make certain she was seen.

“There’s no need,” she said hurriedly. “I doubt that man will find me again. I’ll be safe enough.”

She held out her hand, which he grasped. His hand was big, strong. She could feel its strength and wondered if he were some sort of professional athlete. “I want to thank you for your help.”

“Didn’t do a thing.” He grinned. “You sure you don’t want me to take you over to Doney’s?”

“I’m sure.” She nodded.

She walked away, aware that he was watching her. She was grateful to him, of course. If he hadn’t been there—well! She honestly didn’t know what might have happened. If that little man had meant to attack and rob her, all she could have done was yell and try to defend herself.

When she was certain that she was out of his sight, she turned and glanced back the way she had come. He was not following her at any rate. She turned and, seeing a taxi, flagged it down.

Doney’s was very pleasant, a sidewalk café that sprawled out across the street and the sidewalks. Awnings hanging from the building wall shadowed some of the tiny round tables, but most of them were out in the late-spring sunlight. There were a good many people here, too, all very well dressed and eyeing one another, as though hopeful of sighting a familiar face.

Toni chose a table and ordered a cup of coffee.

She sat and sipped it for half an hour. Then she ordered another and sipped at that until an hour had gone by.

Nobody paid her any attention. No one so much as glanced at her. She consulted her mirror; she saw that she was just about the same as ever; the lipstick and the tiny bit of eye shadow she had used brought out her features. Did she look like an actress or just a tourist?

Somewhat disheartened, she rose at last and made her way along the Via Veneto. It might be tougher than she had imagined to get herself an acting job here in Rome. True, Rome was the heart and center of the American movie colony here, but apparently no one felt that she was the answer to a director’s prayer.

Toni strolled. She walked and walked, head down and feeling despondency run all through her. Of course, she had not really expected someone to dash up to her and thrust a contract on the table for her signature. Not really. But one could hope. Apparently hope was not enough. Well, tomorrow she would make the rounds of the studios. Somebody must need an actress!

If nobody did, what was she going to do?

Panic touched her for a moment so that she stood still and dared not take another step forward. All around her men and women walked as though each had a definite mission in life, a place to go, a place where he or she was needed. Nobody needed Toni Aldridge.

Her lower lip quivered, and tears came into her eyes.

No! She would not give way. Not yet anyhow.

There was always tomorrow and the visits to those studios.

Three days later panic rode her shoulders. For the past three days Toni had trudged the Roman streets, visiting one studio after another. She had filled out forms and handed over photographs of herself, along with a record of her past performances. No one seemed impressed.

She sat now in her hotel room and counted her money. She still had a thousand dollars left in traveler’s checks and about a hundred and twelve dollars in Italian lire. She would need some money to travel back to the States, of course. She would not touch the thousand in traveler’s checks. Not until it was desperately needed certainly.

Her eyes rose to the windows through which the sun was shining. Tears glittered in those eyes. She might as well face up to it. She was not going to get a job here in Italy. Not as an actress anyhow. What she ought to do was turn around and go back home and forget this crazy notion of hers. The big gold bracelet on her wrist caught her eye.

Toni sighed.

She still had enough money left to travel a little. She did not have to stay in Rome and mope. Outside the city, maybe down toward Naples, food might be cheaper, and she could always stay in a private house as a tourist.

Her gaze dropped, and again she caught sight of the bracelet. It had belonged to her grandfather when he had left Italy long years ago to seek his way in the United States. He had done all right, had Umberto Barimolo. He had gone into the construction business; he had built roads, houses, anything that needed building. He had still been alive when she had been born. He had left her that bracelet when he had died. It was too big for her, it had the most uncanny knack of falling off every so often, but she loved it. Her fingertip went over the worn engravings on the bracelet. There was a coat of arms engraved on it, very worn now so that it was almost impossible to make out. It was worth a few dollars, she guessed, but she would never pawn it. It was one of the family treasures.

Toni sighed and went to the window, thinking about Grandfather Umberto. He had been a brave man, leaving Italy to go into a new country to make his fortune. Was she, his granddaughter, any the less brave?

No! She was just as brave. Well, almost She was here in Italy, as strange to her as the United States had been to her grandfather. She had come here to make her fortune as he had come to America. He had succeeded. She would, too!

She would still stay on her vacation. She would travel down to Naples and perhaps even visit Sicily. She would have to rent a car for that; that would be almost necessary. Without a car to travel in, she would feel lost. Tonight she would feast herself, after renting a car. Tomorrow she would drive down to Naples and just enjoy herself. Maybe something would happen to her in Naples. All she needed was a bit of luck.

Like being discovered by a movie director.

The next day was rainy. The rain beat against the windshield of her tiny rented Fiat as the wipers strove to keep the glass clear. She drove slowly, carefully, getting to know the feel of the car. Time enough to drive faster when she felt she could handle the car properly.

She was on the express highway then and moving steadily southward, with the Tyrrhenian Sea to her right, seeming almost to glower in the cloudy, rainy weather. Naples was not far, only ninety or so miles. She was in no hurry; she was on a sightseeing tour; she was here to have fun and to enjoy herself.

She drove slowly on the right hand of the highway, and she dared steal glances at the gloomy sea, off there to her right.

A little sign close to the edge of the road caught her eyes. Monte Circeo. Circe’s Mount. Her lips twisted into a faint grin. Legend had it that Circe had lived off there, near that swell of rock she could just about glimpse. The island where Homer claimed that she lived had, in the years between then and now, become part of the mainland.

On impulse, Toni swung off the main road and down onto a country road that would take her toward that rocky promontory. As she did, the rain stopped and the sun peeped out through the clouds.

She parked the car and began to walk, to move across a stretch of grass and stones toward a barren stretch of blackish rock that jutted outward above the blue waters far below. The wind was cool here off the sea; it blew against her skirt and sweater; it moved strands of her black hair across her cheeks.

Toni stopped and stared out across the water. It was lovely here. Quiet and beautiful, far away from the clamor of a city. It was almost as though the centuries had fallen away and she were Circe, staring from her domain out across the sea from which Ulysses had come.

Slowly she moved forward, listening to the grass rustle against her shoes. It was a charming spot, one could not deny that. Far below she could make out the edges of rocks showing at the base of the little cliff.

She stepped forward.

Her foot slipped, and she flung up her hand to try to maintain her balance. She felt the big gold bracelet begin its slide off her wrist.

“Oh, no,” she wailed and tried to catch it as it fell.

Her feet went out from under her, and she plunged forward.

Far below she saw sunlight glinting on her bracelet, saw it drop into the water just as she herself was going over the edge. Then something caught her wrist and clamped onto it just as she was about to fall.

The scream died on her lips as she felt herself lifted and drawn backward. Whoever had hold of her raised her easily, and then two arms were going around her and she was back on safe ground.

Blue eyes stared down at her out of a sun-bronzed face.

“Well, hello. Didn’t get your movie job, did you? And so you decided to end it all, didn’t you?”

Toni opened her mouth, closed it. She was being held altogether too tightly, being pressed against the big body which belonged to Bob Sanders.

“Where did you come from?” she gasped.

“Followed you from Rome.” He grinned. “Though I will admit I didn’t expect to rescue you from your suicide attempt.”

“I was not committing suicide!”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Now look here! I was not trying to commit suicide.”

His grin was infuriating. It told her that no matter how much she protested, he was convinced that she had been diving over the precipice with the intention of ending her life. There was nothing she could say that would convince him otherwise.

Right now that was not too important. What was important was the fact that he had both arms around her and was squeezing her body against his own with disturbing intimacy. Toni managed to get her hands between them and pushed against his broad chest.

“Will you let go of me?” she snarled.

“Not yet Not until I’m sure you won’t make a mad dash toward that cliff and try to—okay, okay. Relax, will you?”

His arms loosened slowly. Toni pushed herself farther away from him and then put her hands to her sweater to rearrange its fit. Her palms moved down to her skirt, smoothed it. All the while her eyes were on his smiling face.

“I lost my bracelet,” she muttered, feeling that some sort of explanation was due. “It was an heirloom from a relative, and it was too big for my wrist. It fell off and dropped into the water.”

His eyes studied her bare arm. Slowly he nodded. “I remember that bracelet. Big one, wasn’t it?”

“Too big for me. I should have bought a guard. But I didn’t, and now it’s lost.”

Her lower lip quivered. Everything was going against her. She couldn’t get a job, nobody wanted her, and now she had lost one of her most prized possessions. Toni felt tears smart her eyes.

His hand was on her arm, turning her, bringing her back across the high grass toward the side of the road. His grip on her arm was strong, confident. Against her will, Toni felt good to be so close to him, as though by his very size he could protect her.

She went willingly, she did not hold back, and when she glanced up at him, she read approval in his face. It was odd how he studied her, she thought, as though he were making up his mind about her. Well, maybe it wasn’t so strange at that. He must think she was some sort of kook, if he really believed she had meant to fling herself after the bracelet.

“Had lunch yet?” he demanded.

“No. I—I’m not hungry.”

“Of course you are. Been quite a drive from Rome. You women don’t eat breakfast, so by this time of day you’re half starved.”

“I tell you—”

“No, no. Don’t argue. Just come along. We’ll find a nice place and try the antipasto or maybe the piatto del giorno, the specialty of the day. How does that strike you?”

As the wind blew against her, as she felt the bite of it as it swept in off the water, Toni told herself that she might be able to nibble a little. Maybe at an anchovy or a piece of prosciutto. Besides, if this man took her to lunch, it would save some of her lire. She didn’t have too many to begin with, and any saving would help.

“We-ell, maybe,” she muttered.

His laughter rang out. “Good. I like a girl who can make up her mind. Now come along. We’ll go in my car, and we’ll come back for yours. All right?”

She nodded and went with him, where his hand on her arm drew her. She saw her little Fiat and to one side of it a glistening red Jaguar roadster. Her eyes opened slightly at sight of that other car. How like a man to have something like this, at which everyone would stare!

“One of my few indulgences.” He smiled as he drew her toward the red car.

“Indulgences?”

“Every so often I indulge myself with something extravagant. When I saw this beauty, I couldn’t resist it. I went in and bought it.”

He opened the door, and Toni slid in onto the leather seat. Her eyes went to the dashboard, to the fancy trimmings. The car was a beauty all right. She tried to remember what she had heard about the Jaguar, but nothing came to mind.

“We’ll have lunch,” Bob told her as he started the motor. “Then we’ll have a little talk. I have a proposition to make to you.”

Toni froze.

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