A Night In The Palace. Carole Mortimer

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      Lily felt a nervous fluttering of butterfly wings in the pit of her stomach. ‘And I assure you that at twenty-six years of age I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.’

      Dmitri gave a scornful laugh. ‘I did not see any evidence of that earlier at the airport, when you allowed yourself to be put in the back of a car by a complete stranger without even knowing where he was taking you.’

      Considering Lily had realised exactly the same thing on her arrival here, she had to agree with that assessment. Inwardly. Outwardly it was a different matter entirely. ‘Marco behaved like a perfect gentleman on the drive here. In fact, since my arrival in Italy, the only person from whom I seem to need protection is you!’

      Dmitri frowned. ‘You are insulting.’

      ‘I haven’t even started!’ she snapped back. ‘You had me brought here under false pretences, then proceeded to hurl accusations about my brother—and insulted me in the process. And now you expect me to be grateful for your offer of protection and hospitality?’ She gave a disbelieving shake of her head. ‘I may have been a little naïve earlier, but don’t ever think that I’m stupid!’