Free Consumed by Fire by Anne Stuart Page A

grinned like an idiot every time she thought about it.
    She was grinning now, her strange misgivings leaving her. She hadn’t eaten since last night, and it was midday. What she needed was a good meal and a call home to her parents. Not that she’d tell them she was married, or even engaged. She’d just say she’d . . . met someone.
    Without James the suite seemed vast, almost cavernous. Here she was in Venice and she hadn’t even been outside. She pushed open the window and stuck her head outside. The walkways were packed with early-summer tourists, but the Grand Canal glittered in the sunlight as the water taxis and vaporettos rubbed shoulders with the gondolas. Could she talk James into taking her on a gondola ride? They were tourist bait, ridiculously expensive, and she’d never had any interest in such a ridiculous thing. With James everything was different. She knew what he’d do. He would slide his beautiful, strong hand beneath whatever clothing she wore and make her come, covering her mouth with his. She smiled at the thought, but for some reason her eyes filled with tears.
    She shook them away. Had she suddenly become a silly, dependent woman? That wouldn’t do at all. That wasn’t who she was. Except when James put his hands on her.
    She couldn’t stay immured in their elegant suite, waiting for him, and the room-service menu, fabulous as it was, had its limitations. She wanted a Diet Coke and some Pasta ai Quattro Formaggi with the tang of gorgonzola. She wanted to sit by the canal and watch the pigeons and think about nothing at all.
    There was no missing the disapproving looks as she walked through the lobby of the Danieli in her jeans, T-shirt, and Asics, and it took her longer than she expected to find a dress she could afford. She finally discovered one in a tiny shop with a cheerful mongrel curled up outside to greet her. The dress was a rose color, clung to every inch of her, and made her green eyes sparkle and her cheeks flush. She’d surprise James when she got back to the hotel. She’d make him wait in the salon while she changed, and then they’d end up back in the bed again, and maybe she wouldn’t wear the dress out into the hotel for days . . .
    She ate a late lunch in the bright sunshine, watching the tourists. She wasn’t far from the hotel, and she kept her eye out for James, but there was no sign of him. He’d probably already gone back to the suite, and she was suddenly in a rush to finish, happiness bubbling inside her as she practically ran back to the hotel.
    The suite was still empty. She searched the place, but there was no note from him, only her own left untouched. She shook off her unease and went to change into the dress. She should have bought stiletto heels but even for James she couldn’t go that far, and her thin, strappy sandals would do. She even put on makeup, then looked for her diamond studs.
    She couldn’t find them. At first she thought she’d misplaced them—after all, she hadn’t had a brain in her head these last three days, and she’d had much more important things to think about. But the more she searched, the colder she grew. She dumped her meager belongings on the neatly made bed but there was no sign of them.
    Maybe James had found them lying around and put them away for safekeeping. She went for his suitcase, opening it, momentarily surprised to find it empty. No diamond earrings, no change of clothes, and yet he hadn’t unpacked.
    She didn’t hurry. There was no need to rush, no need to find out the truth more quickly than she had to. His shaving supplies, his toothbrush were missing. She hadn’t even noticed that when she woke up. Everything was gone except for the empty suitcase.
    She went back to it, looking for some clue. There was a thin bulge in one of the outer pockets, and she pulled out his passport and wallet, and relief poured through her. The wallet had his American driver’s license, credit cards, even a Costco card, and