Hardly daring to tear her eyes from the two men, she scrabbled blindly for her mobile on the nightstand, but it wasn’t there. She lunged frantically across the bed for Devan’s, forgetting in her panic that he always left his charging in the kitchen overnight. There was no landline in the bedroom any more. ‘My phone’s not here,’ she said, her voice shrill in the silent room. It had been, she was sure, when she went to bed. She always kept it by her in case Caitlin ever needed them in the middle of the night.

‘I took it,’ Jared said simply. ‘I don’t want the police.’

His words were beginning to slur oddly and Devan eyed him closely. ‘Have you been drinking?’

Jared shook his head, his gaze on Connie again, yearning and desperate. ‘I thought we meant something to each other, Connie. You and I, we were a team, weren’t we? I thought … I thought …’ He shook his head as if to clear it and began to move towards the bed. But Devan put a hand firmly on his chest and pushed him roughly back against the door. ‘Stay where you are,’ he barked, as he ran his hands down Jared’s body, searching his pockets for the door key or a mobile – and obviously finding nothing.

Jared passively allowed Devan to rummage, but his eyes never left Connie’s face. ‘I thought you felt the same … that connection.’ He shot her the facsimile of a flirtatious smile, a pale imitation of the charming one with which he had wooed her back in the Italian lakes. ‘It was special, no? You and me … Remember that night …’

Connie froze. No, she begged silently. Please, no.

Devan had taken him by the shoulders and was looking intently into his eyes. ‘Christ, you stupid bastard … You’ve taken something, haven’t you?’

Jared didn’t reply, just stared blankly at him, eyelids flickering.

‘What is it? What the fuck have you taken?’ Devan shouted, face inches from Jared’s, shaking him so his body thudded back and forth against the solid oak door.

Jared just closed his eyes. Devan gave him a final shake, then let him go with a frustrated curse. Jared hovered for a moment, then slid slowly down the wall until he was slumped, half sitting, head lolling to one side.

Devan began wildly rattling the door handle. Connie was up now, pulling on the jeans and sweater she’d worn on the plane. She went over to the two men, looking down at Jared as he lay collapsed on the floor. ‘You think it’s an overdose?’

‘Fucking door. Can’t get any purchase on it,’ Devan said, banging it violently with the flat of his hands in frustration. Then he growled, ‘Yes, he’s taken something. Though God knows what.’