Trapped by Isla Whitcroft Page A

hysterical. So much for just one person. Was this what it meant to be really rich?
    She had just finished unpacking when Jules marched into the bedroom and plonked himself down on the glossy captain’s chair.
    â€˜Get rid of the suitcases,’ he said, without looking up from his BlackBerry. ‘Then leave me in peace. I’ve got to style Nancy for tonight and I need space to get in the vibe.’
    It took a few trips to haul all the empty, but surprisingly heavy, Louis Vuitton cases down to a locker on the bottom deck. Then she grabbed her rucksack and hurried back upstairs to look for Marcus.
    â€˜Cate – good, there you are.’ Marcus was business-like, clutching a notebook and peering into the galley cupboards. ‘I want to show you where I buy provisions so that you can shop for me.’ He thrust a wicker basket into her hand. ‘Cate and I are nipping to the shops,’ said Marcus loudly to no one in particular. ‘Back later.’
    They walked down the gangplank, Marcus loping slowly along, ostentatiously reading from the notebook.
    â€˜We need to split up when we get through the arch,’ he said urgently, looking ahead as he spoke. ‘You head off to the right and walk along by the cafés. Cut back up through the first alleyway and work your way to the top of town. You’ll come to the town square eventually and there’s a playground. We’ll meet there.’
    Cate nodded, puzzled, but not inclined to argue.
    They passed under the thick city walls and, as they came out into the bright sunshine, Cate immediately struck off to the right, the long, cobbled walkway in front of her edged with cafés and buzzing with the laughter and chat of the lunchtime crowd.
    She spotted an alleyway ahead of her. She took a diagonal path, cutting through a café terrace, and headed up into the cool whitewashed alleyway out and away from the noise and bustle of the main street. If Marcus was watching, she had done as he had told her to.
    But the quiet stillness of the empty alleyway was making her feel vulnerable and insecure. Why had Marcus sent her this way? She still didn’t know if she could trust him. If he had been involved with Andrei’s beating, he wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of a witness. And she was the only witness there was.
    With doubts whizzing through her mind, she turned down into another tiny side street and, at the first doorway she came to, she pushed herself back into the porch so that she could hardly be seen. She waited, her heart beating fast. It seemed almost comical to think that someone would want to followher, but then the events of the day before hadn’t exactly been normal.
    The seconds ticked slowly past. Cate was just about to step out of her hiding place when she heard someone coming up the main alleyway. He or she wasn’t walking at a normal speed, or even sauntering as a tourist might do. The gait was stealthy, quiet, stop-start. Was it possible that someone really was looking for her?
    She waited, her breathing quiet and shallow. Then, nervously, she inched her head forward to look around the door post. Her heart jumped. Just a few metres away from her, a man was walking slowly up and down the alleyway. His face was obscured, but he was tall – over six foot – with large muscular shoulders. Was he looking for her?
    Cate drew back into the doorway and held her breath. It looked as if it could be Piot but she daren’t stick her head back out again to check. And if it was him, was he friend or foe? She forced herself to stay calm. Either way, she heard his footsteps slowly walk away and, a few minutes later, Cate sidled back down the street and looked carefully around the corner. There was no sign of her blond tracker but she was taking no chances.
    Instead of continuing up the alley, she doubled quickly back the way she had come and, knowing that she was safer in a crowd, stayed on the busy high street that led