Her mind was constantly tormented by the recollection of those few moments on the river. Giovanni’s magnetic animal energy as his lips had locked onto hers, the demonstration of his physical need for her, had shaken her equilibrium.

And the short-lived incident had left her vulnerable and open, hinting as it did of undreamed-of passion. She knew that despite all her reservations she was longing for something else-something even more beautiful with Giovanni. She had been kissed many, many times before, but not like that. It was the air of breathless intensity enveloping them which had excited her beyond all imagining. How was this all going to end?

Susanne James has enjoyed creative writing since childhood, completing her first-sadly unpublished—novel by the age of twelve. She has three grown-up children who were, and are, her pride and joy, who all live happily in Oxfordshire with their families. She was always happy to put the needs of her family before her ambition to write seriously, although along the way some published articles for magazines and newspapers helped to keep the dream alive!

Susanne’s big regret is that her beloved husband is no longer here to share the pleasure of her recent success. She now shares her life with Toffee, her young Cavalier King Charles spaniel, who decides when it’s time to get up (early) and when a walk in the park is overdue!

Recent titles by the same author:

THE PLAYBOY OF PENGARROTH HALL

THE BRITISH BILLIONAIRE’S INNOCENT BRIDE

THE MILLIONAIRE’S CHOSEN BRIDE

THE BRITISH BILLIONAIRE AFFAIR

The Boselli Bride

By

Susanne James

MILLS & BOON®

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

‘WHY don’t you go back to the hotel, Coral, and have a lie down…? It is pretty stifling today.’ Emily glanced sympathetically at her friend as they sauntered along the sunhot streets of the capital.

‘I think “pretty stifling” is a bit of an understatement—it must be all of forty degrees,’ Coral said plaintively, taking off her hat for a second to wipe perspiration from her forehead. She sighed. ‘Perhaps I will get a cab and go back…Do you have much more to do, Ellie?’

‘Not really-but I’ll look in on one more place before I call it a day,’ Emily replied. She glanced at her watch. ‘I’ll be back before five o’clock, and then there’ll be time for me to have a rest and a shower before we find somewhere for dinner.’

The two girls were staying at a small hotel in Rome on the outskirts of Trastevere. Emily was on one of her normal working assignments, where she had the task of vetting certain hotels and restaurants for the travel firm who employed her, and this was the first time she’d ever been accompanied abroad while on business. But Coral’s long-term boyfriend, Steve, had recently dumped her and, in an attempt to cheer her friend up, Emily had suggested she come to Rome, too. ‘A complete change will do you good, Coral,’ she’d said and, after a little persuasion, Coral had agreed.

Although her grasp of Italian was rather poor, Emily was determined to become sufficiently fluent to make herself well understood by the staff at all the places she’d been asked to investigate—while also expecting that their English could cope with the continuous influx of visitors from Britain.

Stopping for a moment to buy herself a cappuccino ice cream, she started to stroll up a side street which appeared almost completely shaded by the tall buildings on either side. She paused briefly to lick her tongue quickly around and around the smooth, creamy ice cream as it threatened to melt before she could eat it, then wandered on again somewhat listlessly. Perhaps she should have gone back to the hotel as well, she thought—but there was this one other restaurant she needed to visit before finishing for the day.

Soaking up the atmosphere of the ancient city, she wondered whether her parents had actually walked up this very street when they had done all their travelling. The thought of her mother, who had died so suddenly four years ago when she, Emily, was twenty-one, made the girl’s eyes mist and she swallowed a painful lump in her throat. Even though her father, Hugh, had picked up the pieces of his life and carried on alone, she knew that he didn’t find it easy…They’d been such a close couple, and wonderful parents to her and her brother, Paul. Paul was just a few years older than her, but he had a rather serious nature and outlook on life—which might be partly explained by his work as a lawyer. Emily wished that he was here now, so that she could give him a hug.

Lost in her own thoughts, her reverie was brought to a sudden—and ignominious—halt as she almost fell over someone sitting on the pavement outside a small shop whose open-fronted entrance exhibited a colourful array of pottery and glass. Half-sitting, half-lying on a canvas chair with his long legs stretched out nonchalantly in front of him, his large-brimmed hat completely shading his face, he might have been fast asleep because he made no discernible movement as Emily paused to glance at the wares on offer. Slightly embarrassed at how close she’d come to nearly sitting on his lap, she cleared her throat and busied herself with picking up one or two items, even though she had no intention of buying anything. If she’d purchased something in every place she’d been sent to since working abroad, her small flat would be hopelessly overloaded. But then—there was always room for just one more jug, she thought.

Venturing just a little way inside the shop, she gingerly picked up a round, chunky marmalade jar—her father had started making his own marmalade, and she thought how he would love this.

‘Unique.’ The man’s voice was cruelly seductive.

Turning quickly, Emily found herself looking way up into the blackest of black eyes—eyes which twinkled mischievously into her soft grey ones…The inert figure outside had come to life! Standing now, he had removed his hat and his thick, dark and lustrous hair hung haphazardly over his forehead, while the deeply tanned skin of his outrageously handsome face shone slightly with perspiration.

‘I’m sorry…?’ Emily found herself fluttering inside like a silly schoolgirl! Come on, she thought, this isn’t the first Italian male you’ve met! Get a grip!

‘Unique,’ he repeated, averting his gaze from hers just long enough to pick up one of the jars and to slowly turn it around in his long, sensuous fingers. ‘Each one unique.’

Emily smiled inwardly. He was a man of few words, his somewhat sparse way of communicating clearly suggesting that his English was about as good as her Italian.

‘They’re…very…attractive,’ she murmured, speaking slowly. ‘How much…?’

Now he smiled down, his glistening, perfect teeth enlivening the density of his tan. Without taking his eyes from her, he pointed to the small price tag at the base of the jar, raising one eyebrow quizzically.

‘Of course—I should have spotted that,’ Emily said quickly, taking her purse from her bag.

‘No problem.’ He spoke carefully—and Emily thought, well, he’d obviously learned the necessary phrases to get by. So far he’d only uttered about six words, but he was doing all right. Quite well enough to run this small, unassuming shop. She smiled up at him, handing over her euros, conscious that his fingers seemed to linger on hers for several seconds longer than was necessary but admitting that she’d not objected to the feel of his hand on hers like that. He was not offensive in any way, just…just warm…warm and even affectionate. What she had seemed to need just then.

She watched as he carefully wrapped the jar in brown paper before putting it into a small bag. He handed it to her slowly.

‘For you?’ he asked.

Emily couldn’t help smiling at him again. ‘No. A gift,’ she replied, her comments as economically spoken as his. ‘For my father. He…he likes to make his own marmalade these days.’ Now why had she bothered to tell the man that? He was only being polite. He didn’t need to know her business.

‘Ah, yes.’ The dark eyes grew solemn for a moment. ‘Your father…He is alone, yes?’

She hesitated. ‘My mother died. Not so long ago,’ she said quietly, and suddenly his brown hand caught hers again and squeezed it gently-not like before, but impulsively, sympathetically.

‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, letting her go and moving away. Then his eyes twinkled again and the moment had gone.

Emily turned decisively. ‘Thank you very much…for the jar,’ she said.

He bowed his head slightly to one side. ‘You are very welcome,’ he replied formally.

Emily walked away and up the street, admitting that she felt strange inside. What on earth was the matter-had she got sunstroke? But that unlooked-for encounter with possibly the most overtly sensuous Italian male she’d ever spoken to had shaken her up. Had made her feel quite giddy. What on earth had they put in that ice cream?

With slightly narrowed eyes he watched her as she walked away. Of course he’d seen her coming up the street towards him a few minutes ago, his natural antennae homing in on her delectable appearance, on the cool, straight dress just above the knee, revealing gently tanned slim legs, her long fair hair falling casually onto her shoulders, her glitzy strappy sandals twinkling in the heat as she strolled. She was obviously in no hurry, he’d thought as he’d observed her enjoying her ice cream. She’d paused briefly a couple of times as she’d licked at the ice cream, then he’d watched as she’d nibbled at the last piece of the biscuit before taking a tissue from her bag to wipe her lips. He’d recognized at once that she was not of his own nationality—probably English, he’d thought, or German—or Swedish. A familiar shiver of desire had rippled right down his spine as he’d seen the slight figure come nearer, and he’d deliberately lowered his head even further on his chest while still maintaining his undisturbed scrutiny of her. And then she’d given him the perfect opportunity to come and stand close to her as she’d stopped to examine some of the merchandise on display. And to buy something. He had taken his time wrapping up what she had chosen, inhaling the light, tantalizing drift of her perfume.

Now, he sighed as he watched her disappear out of sight. She had been like a welcome apparition in the rather sickly afternoon heat, and now she had gone. He glanced at his watch, feeling somewhat irritable. He only had another hour here before someone came to relieve him, and then he could go and have a long, satisfying drink to cool himself down.

Emily had some difficulty finding the restaurant on her list that she wanted to visit—no one seemed to know where it was—but eventually she tracked it down and had a brief interview with the manager. It seemed a friendly, well patronized place, just the sort she herself might like to eat in, she thought and, taking away some menus and other literature, she hailed a taxi and went back to the hotel.

Coral was lying on her bed reading a magazine.

‘Oh, good, you’re back,’ she said. ‘Did you manage to finish what you had to do?’ She stared at Emily for a second, thinking how pretty her friend looked. She had the same slim figure she’d had when she’d been in her teens. ‘You look as cool as a cucumber, Ellie—and you’re very lucky you don’t burn in this sun,’ she remarked. ‘Not like me. With your fair skin you ought to look like a lobster.’ She sighed. ‘There’s no justice.’ Coral’s red hair and freckled skin needed a lot of protection in these conditions.

‘Well, I may not look burned up, but I feel it right now—’ Emily smiled ‘—so it’s a cool shower for me.’ She took a long cotton skirt and fresh top from the wardrobe and went into the bathroom. ‘Shan’t be long.’

Later, refreshed and looking forward to their evening, the two girls left the hotel and took a taxi to the centre of town.

‘With your experience and expertise, you ought to know all the best places to eat,’ Coral said as they strolled along the busy streets.

‘I still have a lot to learn,’ Emily said. ‘I’ve only been sent here once before, but there’ll certainly be plenty of choice.’ They went on, passing one restaurant after another, the early evening atmosphere muted and relaxed, and presently they stopped for a moment outside a particularly well-lit place to examine the menu. ‘This looks good,’ she said. ‘Shall we try it?’

They took their seats at a table outside under the sun awning and Coral sighed. ‘Why does the thought of food always fill me with such delight?’ she asked, glancing across at Emily. ‘At this moment in time, I do not wish to be anywhere else, with anyone else,’ she added meaningfully.

Emily smiled at the words, knowing that Coral had always loved food. But since the split with her boyfriend, Steve, a month ago, she had definitely started to look thinner—and it didn’t suit her. Coral’s normal appetite was legendary, and it went with her popularity and usually bright outlook on life.

‘The only thing to complete this idyllic picture,’ Coral said as she examined the menu, ‘is for a drop-dead gorgeous Italian male to present himself at my feet and whisk me off to some exotic rendezvous. But not until I’ve had my meal,’ she added.

Emily felt pleased that a change of scene seemed to be having a positive effect on Coral’s frame of mind. Her recent depression seemed to be less in evidence, anyway—at least for the moment. Coral and Steve had been an item for four years—with neither, apparently, wanting to commit themselves, when one day, out of the blue, he’d announced that enough was enough and he wanted to call it a day. To describe it as an emotional bombshell was an understatement and Emily had felt it too-the girls shared their lives in a flat together. It was horrible to see the normally happy-go-lucky Coral so downcast.

As she ran her finger along the huge menu, Emily frowned slightly. It was all very well thinking about other people’s affairs and relationships…but what about her own love life? She had to admit that it didn’t stand much scrutiny at the moment—and who could blame her for that? Her confidence in human relationships having a hope of surviving in the long-term had been shattered when Marcus, her last boyfriend, had been targeted by her best friend from university, who had made no secret of the fact that she’d always fancied Marcus. But it had never bothered Emily, who’d trusted him so naively…so, when he’d unbelievably succumbed to the determined charms of the other woman, Emily had suffered a bombshell all of her own. Then, it had been Coral’s job to pick up the shattered pieces of her ego and her bruised heart. Emily sighed briefly as her thoughts ran on. The event was a whole year ago and, although she barely thought about him now, she’d been taught a hard lesson. Beware of those you thought you could trust. Especially handsome men, who were naturally attractive to the opposite sex.

Presently, they gave the young Italian waitress their order, and within a couple of minutes two large glasses of white wine arrived. Coral picked up hers straight away, beaming across at Emily.

‘Cheers,’ she said, taking a generous gulp, and Emily smiled back, picking up her own drink. It was good to have her friend’s company on this trip, she thought. Even if she was beginning to get used to finding her own way around new places and fending for herself.

Coral leaned back in her chair and looked around. ‘There seems so much talent everywhere,’ she said, almost ruefully. ‘I mean, just look at those two guys over there, Ellie—gorgeous or what?’ She paused. ‘Hey, they’re looking at us…Do you think we might get lucky later on…?’

‘Well, you might,’ Emily said cheerfully, ‘but count me out. I’ve got my busiest day tomorrow, and after we’ve eaten it’ll be back to bed for me.’

‘Spoilsport,’ Coral said. ‘Anyway, I was only joking.’ But she continued staring across at the men, returning their rather suggestive smiles.

Emily said mildly, ‘Don’t encourage them, Coral. It’ll really complicate matters if they think we’re giving them the come-on.’

Soon their meal was put in front of them and for the next ten minutes Coral didn’t say another word as she began rapidly consuming everything on her plate.

‘This veal is so tender,’ Emily said appreciatively, ‘and I wish I knew what the dressing on the salad is. It’s fantastic.’

‘And I love, love, love these chips!’ Coral said theatrically. ‘I was so afraid we were only going to get pasta on this holiday.’

The portions were generous, so the girls decided that fruit and coffee would be all they’d need to complete the meal. But Coral insisted on ordering more wine, waving away Emily’s protest.

‘Don’t be a party-pooper, Ellie,’ she said beseechingly. ‘We’re on holiday, remember.’

‘You are—I’m not,’ Emily replied, but she drank the wine anyway. She certainly didn’t want to be accused of being a drag. Anyway, Coral was having such a good time it was hard not to be affected by the girl’s exuberance.

As they sat sipping their wine, the men whom Coral had been smiling at came over and, without asking, pulled out two chairs so that they could sit down.

‘Is OK,’ one of them said, ‘to sit?’ and, although Emily merely shrugged pleasantly, Coral was thrilled.

‘Of course it’s OK,’ she said brightly, darting a quick glance at Emily.

Immediately, one of the men beckoned a waiter and insisted that the girls should have more wine. They were young—probably barely twenty years old, Emily thought—good-looking and well turned-out in their casual clothes, and it was obvious that they’d been encouraged by Coral’s overtly friendly eye signals.

It didn’t take long for the men to find out that the girls were English and on holiday and, in their halting attempts to make themselves understood, they became more and more animated, throwing their heads back and roaring with laughter at the mistakes they were making. But when one of them leaned across and took hold of Emily’s hand, looking into her eyes and telling her how beautiful she was, the girl had had enough. While she was quite ready to go along with this—up to a point, for Coral’s sake—it was becoming clear that this was going to lead to a situation she definitely did not want. She took her hand away, glancing at her watch.

‘Well—great to have met you,’ she said, ‘but we have to go now.’

‘Oh—no—no,’ her admirer said. ‘Is too early…’

Emily looked helplessly at Coral, hoping for some support, but her friend refused to meet her gaze, clearly enjoying the situation, and for a few moments Emily felt at a loss. The men were only being friendly and she had no sense of being threatened. Yet this was the very thing she had wanted to avoid. How was she going to get out of it without appearing to snub these local lads?

And then her good fairy alighted on her shoulder, literally, as the warm hand of the handsome Italian she’d met earlier in the day rested on her bare arm for a second. He looked down into her rather startled gaze and smiled the smile that set her heart racing.

‘We meet again,’ he said calmly. ‘I was sitting inside in the bar having a drink and saw you come in.’ He paused. ‘Is—is everything all right?’ The words were uttered in perfect English, which had the effect of throwing Emily off balance for a moment. What she’d thought of earlier as his halting ability with the language was obviously a ploy he used in order to avoid having to make tiresome conversation with customers! But she admitted to feeling relieved that he’d turned up then—because now the situation was different—and the younger men saw it at once, standing up almost deferentially.

‘ ‘Giorno, Giovanni,’ the men said, almost in unison. He was obviously well known, Emily thought—and why not? He ran a local shop, and these were local youths. She smiled up at him.

‘Oh, hello again,’ she said. ‘We…were just explaining to these…guys…that we are actually just leaving now…’

‘Giovanni’ spoke in rapid Italian to the men, who answered back in the same way, all three laughing loudly and clearly enjoying a joke—probably at her and Coral’s expense, Emily thought—and then they were gone, smiling back as they went, leaving Giovanni standing there alone. He looked down at the girls, treating Coral to one of his disarming grins before introducing himself, holding out his hand to each of them in turn.

‘My name is Giovanni,’ he said, ‘but my friends call me Joe…Gio.’ He paused, his eyes flickering over Emily’s upturned face.

Quickly, she said, ‘Oh—I’m Emily, and this is Coral. We’re only here for a few days—on a sort of holiday…’ she went on rather stumblingly, aware that her friend was staring at her open-mouthed. Not just because it was obvious that Giovanni was somehow known to Emily, but also because he was looking so stunningly handsome she knew that the girl’s curiosity would be killing her. Emily knew she had some explaining to do!

‘Um…do sit down…Giovanni…’ she said hesitantly, and immediately he pulled out a chair. She looked across at Coral. ‘I bought a lovely present for my father at Giovanni’s shop this afternoon,’ she began, ‘and that’s when I met…Giovanni…Gio…’

Although Coral might have been disappointed at the hasty exit the younger men had just made, she was so entranced at the most recent arrival she could hardly speak! He was wearing well-cut jeans and a loose, immaculate white cotton shirt open at the neck, exhibiting a teasing expanse of muscular brown chest. His hair was stylishly untidy, one or two dark fronds falling over his broad forehead. And his bewitching eyes were fringed by long, curling lashes. But when he leaned across and took Coral’s hand in his briefly, saying, ‘I am so delighted to meet you, Coral,’ Emily thought her friend was going to faint!

‘Oh…’ Coral said at last. ‘Pleased to meet you, Gio.’ She darted a quick glance at Emily, as if to say-Well, you might have said something—before giving the man her close attention. And his perfect English, with only the occasional mouth-watering Italian accent, made conversation easy—and wonderfully entertaining, as he turned on the full power of his Latin charm. He beckoned to the drinks waiter and turned to Emily.

‘May we celebrate our acquaintance?’ he asked. ‘What would you like to drink—and you, Coral…? What may I order for you?’

‘I’d like another coffee, please,’ Emily said firmly. She’d already had several generous glasses of wine. Any more would be too many, she thought. But Coral had no such problem, and soon she was sipping at yet another large glass of the expensive bubbles as she regaled Giovanni with her life story, allowing Emily to add one or two comments about herself while he listened intently.

Presently, Emily decided that for her the evening was over. ‘I want to go back to the hotel now, Coral,’ she said. ‘It’s late.’

‘Where are you staying?’ Giovanni asked casually, and when they told him he said, ‘I can take you, if you like. My car is just a few minutes away.’

‘Oh, lovely!’ Coral said at once, but Emily interrupted firmly.

‘Thank you, but we can easily get a taxi. We wouldn’t want to bother you.’ She stood up and shot a warning glance at Coral, who stood up as well. Then she held out her hand. ‘It’s been very…pleasant…to meet you…Gio,’ she said. ‘And thanks for the coffee.’

He smiled at her, tilting his head briefly to one side. ‘You’re welcome,’ he said. He hesitated. ‘By the way, if you have trouble locating the places you need to visit tomorrow, I’ll be at the shop, so you know where to find me. I can always point you in the right direction.’

‘Oh…thank you, but I’m sure I’ll manage,’ Emily said.

‘Why didn’t you accept his offer of a lift?’ Coral demanded as they were driven swiftly back to the hotel in a taxi.

‘Because we don’t know him, Coral!’

‘He wasn’t exactly a stranger…’

‘As good as,’ Emily replied.

But later, as Emily listened to Coral’s gentle snoring from the other bed, she instinctively felt that there would have been no need to fear Giovanni’s intentions. He was clearly a well known member of the local community and, if the younger men’s reaction was anything to go by, highly respected.

Emily turned over, flinging her arm across her pillow. Behind her closed lids she could still see those ruinously seductive eyes gazing at her. Then she half sat up, pushing her hair away from her face. This would not do, she thought. She was here chiefly on business, not to indulge herself in sensitive thoughts about the first Italian who’d paid her any special attention. It was just a shame that she and Giovanni would probably never meet again…especially as there were only two days to go before they returned to England.

Back in his luxury flat in the heart of the city, Giovanni dragged his shirt over his head and unbuckled his jeans before going into the bathroom to shower. What a piece of good luck that he’d come across Emily again. She might have gone to any one of the countless restaurants on offer, or indeed might have already been on her way back home. And what luck that fate had given him the opportunity to approach her without causing any offence. He’d observed the young men attach themselves to the two girls, and had spotted at once that Emily had seemed uncomfortable about it. She’d certainly not appreciated the rather clumsy gesture she’d received from one of them. It was that which had made Giovanni intervene.

He stared at himself in the mirror for a second, a slight grin on his rugged face. He met many lovely women all the time, and this was hardly the first occasion that his masculine propensities had been briefly shaken and stirred. But, somehow, this felt different…He suddenly felt alive inside again, the persistent sense of guilt which he’d been suffering for the last eighteen months lessening slightly. He bit his lip. He was being introspective again, he thought. He must stop it. Wasn’t it time to give himself an emotional break and start looking forward, instead of back? And he was not going to deny that Emily had lit a particular spark in him which was both exciting and unexpected. On so short an acquaintance he was, quite simply, enchanted by her. She was not only beautiful, she was…thoughtful…wistful, maybe…some other quality that he couldn’t quite identify, but everything about her made him want to hold her and protect her. He had never, ever felt that instant, deep attraction to a woman before in his life—and the realization came as something of a shock.

Stepping into the shower, he let the water rush in cool, satisfying waves over the length of his taut, muscular body before beginning to soap himself vigorously. At least he knew where she’d be staying for the next few days, but he didn’t have long and he wanted to know more about this Englishwoman before it was too late.

He finished showering, then knotted the huge white towel around his waist and padded barefoot into his bedroom, feeling elated. Feeling eighteen again. Emily Sinclair had definitely sprinkled some magic dust over him that day, he admitted—and who knew what may lie ahead? Didn’t all his friends call him ‘Lucky Gio’?

CHAPTER TWO

‘OH, WHAT a night I’ve had!’

Coral sat on the edge of her bed with her head in her hands, then peered through her fingers at Emily, who was barely awake. ‘But I’m glad that I don’t appear to have disturbed you,’ she added a trifle sarcastically.

Emily sat up and stared at her friend sleepily. ‘No, I didn’t hear a thing. In fact, I had the best sleep I’ve had in ages. But—what happened—or shouldn’t I ask?’

‘Oh, it’s just that I’ve been in and out of the bathroom for the entire night,’ Coral replied. ‘I suppose it was something I ate for supper,’ she added.

‘Well, we had the same thing and it didn’t affect me,’ Emily said mildly, thinking that it was probably more to do with the amount Coral had had to drink. She’d almost single-handedly consumed the bottle of expensive wine which Giovanni had bought, and she’d had a lot before that. ‘Do you think you can manage breakfast?’ she asked doubtfully. The girl was still looking very white-faced.

‘Don’t! Don’t mention food!’ Coral said theatrically. ‘It’ll be nil by mouth for me today.’ She got up slowly and went across to the window, clasping her stomach. ‘It looks as if it’s going to be another scorcher,’ she said, ‘but I shan’t be coming with you, Ellie. I couldn’t trust myself to be anywhere but here for the next few hours.’ She turned to glance at Emily. ‘Do you mind?’

‘Of course I don’t mind,’ Emily said at once. ‘But you’re probably over the worst.’ She climbed out of bed, yawning. ‘I’ll ring your mobile at lunchtime to see if you’re able to come and meet me later.’

As soon as she’d had her breakfast, Emily took a few moments to read the instructions she’d been given. There were two hotels and two restaurants on her list for today and, although her map-reading skills weren’t particularly impressive, she felt reasonably confident that she’d be able to get around. A couple of the places looked fairly close to each other, but the others seemed more spread out.

After feeling as if she’d walked fifty miles on the unyielding pavements, Emily had tracked down the two more central establishments before deciding to stop at a small café for a few minutes to make some notes. And to order a long glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

Sitting with her pad on her knee, she sipped her drink, staring pensively out at the fast-moving traffic. She was doing OK, she thought, feeling quite pleased with herself-even if she had gone round in circles when given conflicting directions by two passers-by. But she decided that she’d hail a taxi to take her to the next stop-a rather nice-looking hotel, if the description on her notes was anything to go by.

Standing uncertainly on the pavement, she held out her hand as one cab after another swept past her, obviously all occupied, and after several fruitless minutes she began to walk a little way up the street before trying her luck again. She saw another one approaching her rapidly and, stepping off the kerb in order to get the driver to stop, she stumbled and almost fell as he, too, roared past her. Emily bit her lip in frustration-why was it proving so difficult? she asked herself, beginning to feel hot and bothered all over again.

Suddenly, a sleek black car pulled up alongside her and, glancing in quickly at the driver, she felt a rush of pleasure—and relief—when she saw who it was.

‘Buon giorno, signorina,’ Giovanni said through the open window, a roguish smile on his lips, his black eyes unashamedly taking in her appearance.

‘Oh…hello, Giovanni—I mean, Joe…’ Emily replied, hardly believing her luck. He’d be sure to offer to help find the place she was looking for—and in this heat she wouldn’t be turning him down.

Without switching off the engine, he got out of the car and came around to open the passenger door for her. Well, well, well—Lady Luck was on his side again, he thought. It was as if she had been planted neatly on that pavement for him to offer her a ride. He didn’t usually drive his car around the city at this time of day.

He got in beside her, turning to look at her for a second, noting her flushed cheeks and aware that she seemed out of breath. ‘You were obviously trying to get a taxi,’ he said. Well, there couldn’t have been any other reason for her to stand there alone with her arms in the air. ‘It can be difficult sometimes,’ he added.

‘So I see,’ Emily replied as they drew away smoothly. ‘None of them seem to need my custom today.’ She leaned her head back and sighed, grateful for the air-condition-ing—and to be with someone who knew where he was going. ‘I need to visit two hotels today…My work involves assessing places that might meet all the criteria for British visitors,’ she explained, ‘and I don’t know how to get to either of these.’

‘Well, what a good thing I’m not at the shop this afternoon,’ Giovanni said, ‘so I can take you wherever you want to go.’ Effortlessly, he pulled the car to the side of the road for a moment and looked across at her. ‘What names are you looking for?’

Emily handed him the sheet of paper with the instructions and a small map, and after a few seconds he nodded. ‘They’re a bit out of the way,’ he conceded, ‘but easy enough to find. That’s if you…are happy…for me to take you,’ he added.

Emily looked at him quickly, realizing that today it hadn’t struck her that the man was still the stranger that he’d been last night when she’d refused his offer of a lift. So why did she feel so relaxed…so happy…to be sitting alongside him now? She turned to look in front of her. ‘If you’re sure it’s not inconveniencing you, Gio, I’d be very grateful,’ she said simply.

‘Which travel company are you with?’ Giovanni wanted to know as they drove away and, when Emily told him, he nodded. ‘They’re well known,’ he said briefly. ‘How long have you worked for them?’

‘Almost a year,’ Emily replied.

‘And before that?’

‘Oh, I had a couple of years with a small art gallery in London,’ she said, glancing across at the handsome profile, the strong neck and firm chin. His white shirt exposed heart-throbbing muscular arms and shoulders which tensed and rippled as he moved. She swallowed, looking away. ‘And what about you?’ she asked, thinking that it was his turn to answer some questions. ‘How long have you owned the shop?’

He grinned without looking at her. ‘Oh, it’s not mine,’ he said. ‘It belongs to a friend. I just mind the place for him from time to time.’

There was silence for a few moments after that and Emily thought-well, that didn’t say much. If it wasn’t his shop, what else did he do?

‘So, when you’re not selling beautiful marmalade jars…?’ she enquired.

‘My friend also owns the restaurant you were dining in last night,’ he said, ‘and I help out there, too, in the bar sometimes—but mostly I manage his paperwork for him.’ He paused. ‘By the way,’ he went on, changing the subject, ‘where is—Coral—today?’

‘Oh, I’m afraid Coral might have had too much sun yesterday,’ Emily said. She wasn’t going to go into details. ‘So she decided to stay at the hotel and rest for a few hours…which reminds me—I must ring her to see if she’s feeling any better.’

Taking her mobile from her bag, Emily dialled Coral’s number and was relieved that her friend answered almost immediately and sounded her old self.

‘Good,’ Emily said into the mouthpiece, ‘I’ll be back about six o’clock and we’ll go out to supper later—if you’re still feeling OK…What? Oh—I’m phoning from…from…I’m in a car on my way to one of those hotels, but once I’m there it shouldn’t take long,’ she added as she rang off.

Now why hadn’t she told Coral that it was Giovanni’s car that she was sitting in? she asked herself as she replaced her phone in her bag. And Giovanni must have been thinking the same thing because he gave her a wicked sidelong glance and said bluntly, ‘Is my name a dirty word then, Emily? You’re not…ashamed…of me, I hope?’

Emily felt her cheeks beginning to burn. ‘Of course not!’ she said. ‘It…it was somehow difficult to try and explain to Coral how you…I mean…how…I’ll tell her later, of course.’ The fact was that Coral had fallen madly in love with Giovanni and when they’d got back last night hadn’t stopped going on and on about him until the small hours. If Emily had said, Guess what? Giovanni just happened to be passing by and now I’m sitting in his fantastic car and yes, he’s just as gorgeous as he was last night! Coral would have demanded to know how that had happened, and her shriek of amazed jealousy would have been deafening and very difficult to explain to the man in the driving seat!

It took about twenty minutes to reach the quite imposing hotel, and Giovanni glanced across at Emily. ‘Do you have an appointment, or do you just turn up unannounced?’ he asked.

‘It varies,’ Emily replied. ‘It’s quite good not to let them know when you’re coming, for obvious reasons, but I usually do ring first. Let’s hope the manager is available today. I’m hoping to see Signor Saracco, but in any case I can get a good feel of the place and see if it’s the sort which our clients might approve of.’

They got out of the car and together they went into the large foyer. This would obviously have to feature in the brochure for one of their more expensive holidays, Emily thought, looking around her at the impressive glass cabinets containing luxurious clothing and jewellery. The girl standing behind the huge oak reception desk looked up as they entered, her eyes glancing briefly at Emily, but lingering for a lot longer on Giovanni, immediately captivated by his ruthlessly seductive appeal.

Emily stepped forward. ‘Parla inglese?’she asked, and the woman nodded hesitantly.

‘A leetle,’ she replied.

In the following few moments it was obvious that the receptionist was having a struggle with the language, and Emily made a mental note of the fact. It would be important for British visitors to feel comfortable at this early point, she thought, and for any queries they might have to be dealt with efficiently. Then Giovanni spoke quietly to the girl and for what seemed like ten minutes to Emily they conversed rapidly in Italian, the receptionist clearly relieved to be speaking her own language, laughing excitedly now and then—and also obviously enjoying talking to the handsome visitor. Then he glanced down at Emily.

‘This young lady is only standing in for the permanent receptionist,’ he explained, ‘owing to illness. She only started today and says it’s been the longest morning of her life. Another girl is coming in tomorrow, apparently. She is only seventeen,’ he added, and Emily was amazed. ‘Carla’—for that was the name on the identity tag the girl was wearing—looked at least in her mid-twenties. She was immaculately dressed, her black outfit pristine and enlivened with gold jewellery, her dark hair swept back elegantly. ‘I also asked if Signor Saracco was available, and she says that he is due back in one hour,’ Giovanni went on. ‘Do you want to hang on that long, or shall we find the other place first?’ He paused. ‘I don’t know about you, but I didn’t have any lunch. They do very good light meals, served all afternoon, so Carla tells me…’

Suddenly, the thought of sitting down to a gentle Italian repast sounded just what she needed and Emily smiled, realizing that her ‘lunch’ had been that glass of orange juice. ‘I’d love something to eat,’ she said, ‘and we might as well wait for the manager now that we’re here.’

‘Good,’ he said at once, cupping her elbow in his hand and leading her towards the other end of the entrance hall where late lunches were being served. Without looking back, Emily knew that Carla would be watching them. The young girl had been instantly flattered by Giovanni’s kindly attention to her, flashing her artificially long eyelashes at him as he’d looked across at her. And Emily could quite see how any female would be touched by his attitude. He’d been attentive, understanding…and deliciously sensuous, yet not creepy or overpowering. She’d give him full marks for the way in which he demonstrated his particular art-or was it craft?

He led her to a small round table in the corner, by a window which looked out across a beautifully green lawn. In a lazy circular movement, a hose was lightly playing water over the grass and Emily glanced up at Giovanni as he held out a chair for her to sit down.

‘They must employ a lot of staff to keep this place up to standard,’ she said. ‘It does seem a very well run establishment.’

For a few moments they studied a copy of the menu, then both decided on something called the House Special, which was ravioli accompanied by freshly cooked spinach.

‘I hope the service is good,’ Giovanni remarked as he clicked his fingers to attract the attention of the drinks waiter, ‘because I’m starving.’

Emily had to admit that she was beginning to feel the same way, and soon they were tucking into what turned out to be a really delicious version of the simple Italian dish. ‘When I do ravioli at home,’ she said, running her knife around her plate to scoop up the last of the sauce, ‘it doesn’t taste nearly as good as this.’

Giovanni smiled across at her, realizing how much he was enjoying the company of this Englishwoman whom he barely knew. His eyes narrowed briefly as he continued watching her. Although she was not cold towards him, he thought—no, not at all—he sensed a sort of protective film around her persona which seemed to exclude him. So why didn’t he stick with his own kind? he asked himself. It wouldn’t take long for that young receptionist to respond to his male ego!

Emily looked up at him now and he smiled, thinking that there was a little time to go before the manager turned up. Time to find things out.

‘So,’ he said smoothly, finishing the last of his beer, ‘are there any more like you at home, Emily? Or are you an only child?’

‘I have a brother,’ Emily replied, folding her napkin and sitting back contentedly. ‘He’s a lawyer, and slightly older than me.’ She paused. ‘Although we both live and work in London, we don’t see as much of each other as we’d like—there never seems enough time, somehow.’

‘One must always make time for relationships,’ Giovanni said, his expression darkening momentarily.

‘Are your parents alive?’ Emily wanted to know.

‘I still have my mother with me,’ he replied, ‘but my father died ten years ago.’

So, Emily thought, they were both semi-orphans. ‘Does your mother live in Rome with you?’ she asked.

‘No, we have a family home in the country, a few miles outside,’ he said. ‘She is happy there—though she sometimes comes into the city and stays at my flat when she feels like it.’ He paused. ‘And your father? You told me that he is alone now, but where does he live?’

‘In the same house in Hampshire where my parents lived all their married life,’ Emily replied, wishing that she hadn’t had that small glass of white wine.

There was silence for a few moments, then he said casually, ‘And what about your love life, Emily—you have a partner longing for your return?’

Emily was a bit taken aback at the way he’d put the question—she didn’t usually discuss her ‘love life’ with anyone! ‘No, I do not have a partner—at the moment,’ she said coolly, and he looked at her quizzically. There was a fleeting expression on her face which he couldn’t interpret, didn’t understand…Surely there must be a long queue of men lusting for her? he thought.

And Emily, looking out of the window thoughtfully, would not be telling him about Marcus—that was all in the past. And she was surviving life without specific male company too, she thought. Life was blissfully uncomplicated now. Life was OK, wasn’t it? She swallowed. It was time to talk of other things.

Just then a murmuring of voices coming from the reception area made them both glance up as three men, dressed formally, entered. Immediately, Giovanni stood up—he’d obviously seen someone he knew, Emily thought, and almost at once the taller one of the trio came over to them. He was about forty-five or so, Emily guessed, and extremely good-looking.

‘Giovanni,’ he began, his hand outstretched in greeting, and there followed a rapid exchange of Italian between the two of them. Then Giovanni looked down at Emily.

‘Um…allow me to introduce you, Emily,’ he said. ‘This is…Aldo.’ And to the man he added, ‘The young lady is Emily. She is here on business.’

Aldo took Emily’s hand in his and looked down at her, his searching Italian eyes seeming to unwrap every bit of her at a single glance. ‘I am charmed to meet you, Emily,’ he said smoothly, not letting her go, but turning his head to Giovanni. ‘Another delightful creature to add to your list, my friend?’ he said, and the remark seemed almost sinister to Emily. It held a definite touch of spite. She looked uncertainly at Giovanni—whose expression was non-committal, but there was suddenly a very cool atmosphere—and it seemed obvious that there was no love lost between these two.

After some more rather stilted discussion between them, Aldo made his gracious departure and joined his friends at a table at the opposite end of the room. Giovanni looked across at Emily as he sat down again.

‘Well, I did not expect that,’ he said, ‘and I must apologize that we did not speak in English.’

Emily shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘Is he—is Aldo—a friend? You’ve known him a long time?’

Giovanni grimaced briefly. ‘Too long,’ he said.

‘You don’t like him?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘I neither like nor dislike him,’ he replied casually. He paused. ‘The more important point is that he resents me…He does not like me.’

No, Emily thought—she’d seen that straight away. ‘Well, sometimes certain…friends…just don’t fit somehow, do they?’ she said. ‘It’s impossible to get on with each and every one of them.’

Giovanni nodded. ‘Oh, I do OK with friends,’ he said. ‘They’re no problem. Families are different.’ He glanced over at the three men, who were giving the waiter their order for drinks. ‘Aldo is family, unfortunately,’ he said, a note of resignation in his voice. ‘He’s my uncle. My father’s younger brother.’

‘Oh,’ Emily said, wondering why Giovanni hadn’t mentioned that when they’d been introduced. Then she shrugged inwardly. She knew that Italians were known to be great family people, but even in the best of families there’d be bound to be friction now and then. She glanced at her watch. It must surely be time for the manager to return, she thought.

‘You speak wonderful English, Gio,’ she said, changing the subject. ‘You’ve obviously spent a lot of time in the UK.’

‘Explained by the fact that I was educated mostly there,’ he said briefly.

Now, why did it surprise her, Emily asked herself, that he’d gone to school in England? ‘Where did you go?’ she asked him.

‘Boarding school in Surrey, then Marlborough College in Wiltshire, followed by London University. And, before you ask, I gained a Masters in Business Law.’

Emily was almost bowled over by all this information! Despite being born in Italy, and in appearance and attitude being a perfect example of typical Latin charm, he was nearly as English as she was herself! She almost laughed out loud at the thought.

‘So,’ she said, ‘if you only help out at the shop, and at your friend’s bar when you’re in Rome, where else do you work?’ she asked. ‘Where has all that education led you?’

He waited a moment before reaching into his pocket and handing her a small business card. ‘Oh, I help my mother with a…um…family concern in Rome,’ he said. ‘Which means I have to come to the UK every now and again,’ he added briefly.

Emily looked down at the card he’d handed her. Giovanni Boselli, she read. Financial Consultant, followed by his qualifications and the telephone number and address of the London office he apparently used. An address which was just a few streets away from her own office in Mayfair!

CHAPTER THREE

‘WELL, I think that’s everything sorted—thanks to you, Gio,’ Emily said, glancing across at him as they travelled back into the city later. ‘It would have taken me a lot longer to find my own way around.’

‘My pleasure,’ he said easily. ‘And-you were satisfied with both hotels?’

‘Perfectly,’ she replied. ‘I shall be able to put ticks in all the right boxes.’ She leaned her head back, feeling satisfied with the day’s work. ‘It was lucky for me that you happened to be free this afternoon—and also that you saw me trying to hail a taxi,’ she added.

He looked across at her and grinned. ‘Lucky for me, too,’ he said. ‘I’ve certainly enjoyed seeing you in action, Emily. You knew exactly how to handle those two managers, leaving them in no doubt what you expected—what your clients expected—of holiday accommodation.’

Emily was genuinely pleased at what he’d just said. Although she’d never been particularly shy or retiring, she’d had to get used to meeting complete strangers in foreign places, and assess their establishments without causing offence. And it could be difficult sometimes, when she could see straight away that some were totally unsuitable and would not get her recommendation.

It was six-thirty before Giovanni drew up outside the hotel and, switching off the engine, he said casually, his eyes glinting mischievously, ‘As a small reward for having given you my undivided attention this afternoon, may I have the pleasure of taking you and Coral out for supper later?’ he asked.

‘Oh, but…I’ve already taken up far too much of your time, Giovanni,’ Emily began, and he interrupted.

‘Which I have very much enjoyed—as I’ve already said. So—why not make a day of it?’ He paused. ‘You’re going home tomorrow, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ Emily said, realizing that, for the very first time since she’d been doing all this travelling, she felt regretful that the trip wasn’t going to be extended for a few more days. And she was honest enough to admit that meeting Giovanni had something to do with that!

‘Well, I must speak to Coral about it,’ she said. ‘But thank you for the offer,’ she added, knowing full well that her friend would be ecstatic at the thought of spending the evening with Giovanni.

He tilted his head to one side in acknowledgement of her words. ‘You’ve got my card,’ he reminded her, ‘and my mobile number is on that. Give me a ring after you’ve mulled things over, and if you decide to accept my invitation I could pick you up at, say, eight-thirty or nine and take you to a place you’d probably never come across on your own—but which I can guarantee you’d like. But—’ he touched her arm briefly ‘—don’t worry if you decide to have an early night instead.’ He paused. ‘There’ll be other occasions.’ His lips parted in a brief knowing smile.

As soon as Emily got back to the room, she was almost bowled over by Coral’s excited welcome. ‘Oh—hi, Ellie!’ the girl exclaimed. ‘Had a good day?’ And, without waiting for a reply, she went on, ‘You’ll never guess what—I’ve pulled! We’re going out tonight!’

Emily sat down on the edge of the bed for a second and looked up at Coral—who had obviously fully recovered, her eyes shining with girlish excitement. ‘Go on—enlighten me. What have you been up to?’ she asked, a faint note of resignation in her voice.

‘Honestly, I haven’t been up to anything!’ Coral exclaimed. ‘But this afternoon I was feeling so much better that I went down to Reception to order a tray of tea and that gorgeous guy—Nico—was on duty. You know, the one we’ve spoken to a couple of times?’

‘Yes, of course I know who you mean,’ Emily said. Yet another dashing and attentive Italian, she thought.

‘Well, we sort of got chatting,’ Coral went on, ‘and I said I didn’t know Rome very well and guess what—he wants to take us out to show us the sights. He’s off duty at eight o’clock! What do you think of that?’ She looked at Emily searchingly. ‘It might be fun, Emily—and it is our last night.’

Emily got up and went over to put her laptop in the wardrobe, then turned to Coral. ‘Strangely enough, I’ve had an invitation for us as well,’ she said lightly, before going on to explain how Giovanni had arrived and had escorted her to the hotels on her list. ‘And he’s asked if we’d like to have dinner with him tonight,’ she added.

Coral was speechless—but only for a second. ‘How weird—that he should have turned up at just the right moment,’ she said. ‘But—now we’ve got two invites! Choices, choices!’ She paused, thinking it over for a moment. ‘But—it’ll work perfectly, Ellie. I mean, I wouldn’t want to turn Nico down—not after he was so sweet to me this afternoon—and you can’t possibly disappoint Giovanni. That wouldn’t be fair, since he’s obviously been so wonderful to you today. So there you are—we’ll go our separate ways tonight…and compare notes later!’ she added darkly.

Emily smiled, shaking her head briefly at Coral’s excitement. Her friend was obviously going to make the most of this final bit of her holiday—and what better way to end it than to be escorted around town by the handsome Nico?

Presently, as she washed away the day’s dust under a cool shower, Emily couldn’t help feeling pleased for Coral. Having an unexpected date was just the sort of thing to add a little sparkle to a holiday, she thought, and her friend was quite old enough—and sensible enough—to treat it as the light-hearted, inconsequential thing it was. And Emily had to admit that the thought of spending her last evening with Giovanni—just the two of them—held a little sparkle of its own! And why not? The occasional fleeting evening spent with an attractive man was the sort of thing which pleased her these days…No expectations, nothing heavy, which might threaten to cloud the long-term plan for her life. Go with the flow, but keep things cool—that was the best way.

Later, dressed in her white slim-leg cotton trousers and ocean-green low-necked top, Emily tripped lightly down the steps of the hotel to find Giovanni standing at the bottom waiting for her. Looking up, he grinned slowly, taking in every detail of her appearance and making no secret of his admiration.

‘You are a very beautiful woman, Emily,’ he murmured, and although Emily knew very well that easy compliments flew from the lips of amorous Italians like flocks of migrating birds, coming from Giovanni it seemed different. It seemed genuine, and she accepted it graciously.

‘Thank you…Giovanni…’ she said, lingering over his name for a second. He was so obviously a ‘Giovanni’ rather than a ‘Joe’, she thought briefly. That rather blunt derivative of his name could only be thanks to one of his English friends and somehow, to her, it didn’t suit him. And tonight she could have added that he, too, was worth more than one glance. His black, well-fitting designer trousers were teamed with an ivory cotton shirt, casually open, showing off his golden chest. He obviously liked dressing well, Emily thought.

She glanced across at him as he drove them into town. ‘Coral asked me to thank you again, for including her in tonight,’ she said. ‘As I explained on the phone, she’d already accepted an invitation which she didn’t feel able to change.’

He looked back at her, his dark eyes glinting in the reflection from the brightly lit dials of the dashboard. ‘No worries,’ he said easily, thinking that, with another woman, he might have said that he was very happy to have her all to himself, so that he could treat her to the undivided attention that was his norm with alluring females. But he decided not to say that, happy to relax in the comfortable silence that seemed to exist between them. He frowned briefly. He had known so many women in his life—had always regarded the female sex as treasures to be valued. But would he ever meet a woman who didn’t have an ulterior motive in wanting to belong to his family? That was what haunted him.

Feeling annoyed at his thoughts, he leaned forward to adjust something in front of him. The evening ahead was one to enjoy, for heaven’s sake! And he was determined to do just that—and to make sure that Emily had a good time, too. When he’d first seen her yesterday—was it only yesterday? he asked himself—she’d had the usual instant effect on him, arousing an animal instinct of wanting to get close, even to possess. But there was this elusiveness about her which continued to intrigue him. And he had to penetrate it somehow, if only to convince himself that he could find out what it was, what lay behind the rather enigmatic expression he’d noted on her fine, perfect features.

Realizing that they’d not exchanged a word for the last few minutes, Emily said, without looking across at him, ‘I hope today hasn’t been too boring for you, Giovanni. I’m sure there were far more interesting things for you to do than transporting me around and hanging about…’

He interrupted her at once. ‘I’m seldom bored, Emily. And I certainly wasn’t today. I’m only too pleased that I was able to be of some use to you.’

‘That’s what you seem to do quite a lot of—being of use to people,’ Emily said. ‘Your friend who owns the shop and the restaurant seems to make good use of you when you’re in Rome.’ Now she did look across at him, chiding herself for the sensuous pleasure she was experiencing at being close to him, of seeing the strong brown hands on the steering wheel, his taut, muscular thighs visible beneath the fine fabric of his trousers. She swallowed, trying to think of Coral, and where Nico might be taking her tonight.

‘Oh, well, my friends are good to me too, when I need them,’ he said. Then, ‘Are you hungry, Emily—would you like dinner straight away, or shall we go for a walk first?’

‘I’d like to eat now-then maybe walk off my meal later!’ Emily replied. ‘Lunch does seem quite a long time ago.’

‘Good. That suits me, too.’ He smiled at her with that certain, gentle smile which had the effect of making Emily’s pulse quicken. It was true, she thought—that Italian men had that certain something which could melt a woman’s heart. She’d never really believed it, but now she was experiencing it first-hand…Giovanni exuded that courteous roguishness which personified the Italian male.

After he’d parked the car, they strolled along side by side, through streets which—although less busy—still seemed to ooze with the warm friendliness of the timeless city. They passed one or two families with small children in tow, couples sightseeing hand in hand, and now and then a cheerful group of young Italian men, maybe hopeful of a romantic assignation later, all adding to the laid-back atmosphere of the evening.

Walking along beside Giovanni, Emily felt a surge of unexpected happiness ripple through her. Being in the sole company of the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on was something she had not anticipated when she and Coral had left Heathrow the other day. She was not meant to be here enjoying herself—she was employed purely on a business basis. And she realized that it was the first time since starting the job that anyone had invited her out, or treated her as Giovanni was doing. She met plenty of pleasant—and not so pleasant—people during the course of an assignment, but no one had ever asked her out to dinner or treated her other than formally. But maybe that was down to her, she acknowledged. Although there were certain guidelines laid down by the company which she should conform to—mostly in her own interests—she was also aware that she seemed to have developed a natural antipathy to showing undue familiarity with people—notably with men. She hoped she wasn’t thought of as stand-offish. Then she shrugged inwardly. So what? It was far safer, emotionally and in every other way, to keep slightly detached, to keep her distance. To try and enjoy life on the margins.

But, despite these thoughts, Emily was acutely aware that, although he was walking very closely by her side, Giovanni had not attempted to take her hand in his—and for a ridiculous moment she wished that he would! She could still recall the touch of his fingers on hers as he’d passed over the gift she’d bought at the shop yesterday—strong, protective fingers, sensitive and warm. Then she bit her lip. These thoughts must be thanks to the relaxed evening atmosphere, or to the occasional sight of two young lovers, their bodies entwined, as they passed, she thought.

He glanced down at her. ‘Although I don’t know your particular likes and dislikes, Emily,’ he said, ‘I’m pretty sure you’ll approve of my choice of venue for tonight. There are so many places to choose from, of course, but we have to start somewhere.’

Emily smiled up quickly. ‘It’ll be great to have someone…to have you,’ she amended, ‘to make the decision for me. I’m only just getting used to being totally independent in strange places, to try and find my own way around. And, although it’s getting easier, sometimes it can be…uncomfortable.’ She didn’t add that she frequently felt very homesick and wished that she was back in the comparative solitude and safety of the art gallery. But she’d made the decision to spread her wings, to search life out instead of waiting for it to find her—and you didn’t do that by hiding away in the cool, protective atmosphere of an art gallery.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Emily knew straight away that she was going to love it. It was on the top floor of the Hotel Hassler Roma and, as they were shown to a table by the window, soft piano music started to play quietly. Giovanni held out a chair for Emily to sit down and she glanced up at him appreciatively.

‘This is…lovely, Giovanni,’ she said, her eyes moist and shining with unaffected pleasure.

He returned her glance, his seductive lips parted in a brief smile. ‘I had a feeling it would be right for you, Emily,’ he murmured, pausing for a moment with his hand resting lightly on her bare shoulder, and she shivered instinctively.

‘You’re not cold?’ he enquired, moving away to sit down opposite her. ‘You haven’t brought a wrap with you?’

‘No—no, I’m not cold! It’s…I’m just excited to be here,’ she said quickly.

He looked across at her thoughtfully. The gentle light from the single candle on the table seemed to enhance the delicate curve of her cheek, accentuating the length of her dark eyelashes. He picked up his copy of the menu which the waiter had just given them, trying to concentrate on the selection of dishes on offer.

‘You’ve obviously been here before, Giovanni,’ Emily said with her eyes on her own menu. ‘What do you recommend amongst all this?’

‘I can recommend just about everything,’ he said at once, ‘but it depends on what you feel like.’

After a few moments, Emily put down her menu. ‘I’ve made my decision,’ she said lightly. ‘I’ve decided that you can order for both of us.’ She paused. ‘And I shall trust your choice unequivocally.’

He shrugged, grinning across at her. ‘Well, if you’re going to live dangerously, here goes,’ he said. ‘And anyway, in all matters, large or small, I like to think that any woman is perfectly safe in my hands.’

Just then, the waiter came to their table and, as Giovanni gave their order for wine, Emily gazed out of the window, swaying her shoulders lightly to the rhythm of the popular medley the pianist was playing. The hotel was situated at a spot overlooking the Spanish Steps, affording a bird’s eye view of the mellow roofs of old Rome, and Emily felt grateful, again, for having met Giovanni—because he was right. She would probably have never come across this charming restaurant, and at this moment, with stars beginning to pin-prick the darkening night sky outside, and the soft lighting and friendly atmosphere in the candlelit room, Emily felt as if she had been transported to an enchanted island. And she didn’t want to be rescued from it—not just yet!

Giovanni broke into her reverie. ‘I’ve ordered white wine, Emily,’ he said, ‘and for the meal, I thought grilled tuna with tomatoes and taggia olives, followed by suckling pig in sweet milk sounded about right. Plus a mixed salad.’ He paused. ‘I hope you approve.’

‘Heartily.’ Emily smiled.

‘And we’ll consider dessert later,’ Giovanni went on as the waiter departed. ‘Their chocolate mousse with hot chocolate sauce is a known favourite,’ he added.

‘Well, if I’ve room, that will certainly be the one for me,’ Emily said lightly, and he grinned.

‘I thought so,’ he said. ‘That’s why I mentioned it.’

Emily kept her eyes lowered for a moment. If he thought he knew her so well, she’d better watch what she said in future. This man seemed able to infiltrate her persona without even trying. He was getting close—dangerously close—she thought. But…she’d relax and enjoy it—just for tonight. There was no harm in accepting the fact that she was liking the feelings which Giovanni was arousing in her—the sense that she was not only liked, but that she was desired. And, in any case, these trifling few days would soon pass into history and would simply come in the category of harmless holiday meetings which never came to anything—and which never meant anything. Which was exactly how she wanted it. This time tomorrow she’d be back in the flat—alone—because Coral was going to spend the weekend with her parents, with just the unpacking and the laundry to fill her thoughts.

Their wine arrived and Giovanni raised his glass. ‘Let’s drink to…let’s drink to this evening,’ he murmured.

Emily picked up her own glass and gently clinked it against his. ‘To this evening,’ she replied slowly, letting the sparkling bubbles tease her lips and tongue. ‘This is wonderful,’ she added.

When the food arrived, Emily looked down at her plate. ‘This is rather…generous…’ she said. ‘I hope I can manage it all.’

‘Do your best,’ Giovanni said as he unfolded his napkin. ‘You look to me as if you need just a little building up, Emily.’

But he didn’t mean that, and shouldn’t have said it, he thought as he watched her for a second. It was true that she had a slender figure—unlike many of his compatriots, who were more generously endowed, but she possessed the most exquisite curves and, in his experienced opinion, they were all in the right places!

Presently, he said, ‘So, where are they sending you next, Emily?’

Emily picked up her glass to take a sip of wine. ‘I’m not sure,’ she replied. ‘I shall know when I go back to work on Monday. But I normally spend the following week in the office after I’ve been away—to report back.’ She picked up her knife and fork again. ‘What about you, Giovanni? When do you expect to leave Rome?’ As soon as she’d said that, Emily wished that she hadn’t because it looked as if she was trying to find out when he’d be in London.

‘Oh, well, that’s largely up to me,’ he said casually. ‘But I’ll probably be there in the next week or so.’ He leaned across to top up her glass. ‘I have a flat in London, so I can come and go as I please.’

Hmm, Emily thought. A flat in London, and he’d said he’d a flat here in Rome too—all the education he spoke of had obviously provided him with a very sound income! She would find it difficult to be able to afford a flat of her own—sharing the rent and expenses with Coral was the only way it could work for her.

At that moment her mobile rang and, frowning, Emily reached into her bag to answer it. She hoped it wasn’t Coral to say she’d landed herself in some sort of fix!

It wasn’t Coral—it was Paul. And Emily smiled involuntarily at the sound of her brother’s voice.

‘Hi, Emmy,’ Paul said. ‘Just checking up—you’re due home tomorrow, aren’t you?’

‘Paul! How good to hear you,’ Emily said, smiling across at Giovanni briefly.

‘Has it all gone well?’ Paul wanted to know. ‘Found your way around OK? Where are you now?’

‘Everything’s gone like…like a dream,’ Emily said, ‘and I’m sitting in a lovely restaurant having the most fabulous meal…’

‘Is Coral there? Let me have a word,’ Paul said. He and Coral had always got on well.

‘Oh…well…Coral’s not with me,’ Emily said casually. ‘We’ve sort of…parted company, just for this evening…’

‘Oh? You’re on your own?’

‘No—not exactly…I’m having dinner with…with a friend.’

There was silence for a second. ‘Someone you know?’

‘Well, I do now.’ Emily smiled, looking across at Giovanni again. She wished Paul wouldn’t worry about her like this. ‘I’ve met Giovanni…Giovanni Boselli,’ she said hurriedly, ‘and Giovanni has been a great help in finding me a couple of places I couldn’t locate, and now we’re enjoying a fantastic meal, Paul…I must bring you here one day.’

She could just imagine the expression on Paul’s face. Where his sister was concerned, he saw predatory males on every corner.

‘Oh…well, then,’ Paul said. ‘Have a good time, and safe travelling tomorrow, Emmy. I’ll ring you later on…’ He paused, lowering his voice. ‘Take care, won’t you…be careful, Emmy.’ Then, ‘Dad sends his love, by the way.’

They ended the call and Emily replaced the phone in her bag, not looking at Giovanni, but she knew he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. She decided not to tell him that Paul was her brother. Let him think what he liked. And, for a ridiculous moment, Giovanni felt a surge of jealousy run through him at the way Emily’s eyes had lit up as she’d spoken to the man at the other end. It had to mean that it was someone special…even though she’d said she wasn’t in a relationship at the moment.

By the time they’d finished the meal—with neither of them having the chocolate mousse—it was almost midnight, and reluctantly they left the restaurant and began strolling back to where Giovanni had parked his car. Emily sighed, taking a deep breath as she looked up at the sky.

‘This evening has been the perfect way to end my tour,’ she said. ‘Thank you, Giovanni.’

‘I consider it to have been a…privilege to have your company, Emily,’ he replied, and there was no teasing note in his voice as he said it.

What happened in the next couple of seconds would always remain a blur in Emily’s memory—but, without any warning at all, her ankle suddenly twisted horribly and with surprising force—so that she found herself sprawling to the ground, her arms flailing helplessly at something, anything, to help her. And, although Giovanni had been walking very close beside her, he was not able to do a thing to stop her falling. Then, with an incoherent curse, he sprang forward and grabbed hold of her and pulled her to her feet.

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