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Stella felt them take in her sandals and the denim shorts and cheap cheesecloth top and then his glance moved to her hair, and he seemed to draw the conclusion she had not trekked up the cliff from town.

He was correct.

‘Look, I wasn’t aware I was on private property,’ she attempted, but he raised a dark brow as if he knew any driver here would have warned her.

Pino had.

She was well and truly caught.

And while she wasn’t the press, Stella rather doubted that the Count’s security guard would be reassured if she explained she was here to search for a location for a big budget movie production.

‘I’m not the press,’ Stella said, unable to look at him, or look anywhere, blushing furiously at the light sheen on his upper arms and the surprisingly sexy glimpse of black armpit hair. Her eyes darted, her face level with his chest that rose and fell with his breath. It seemed odd, to know him so little and be looking at his mahogany nipples and fan of black chest hair. ‘I’ll leave now.’

‘Whoever you are,’ he told her and that authoritative voice now sounded a touch weary, ‘please give him some peace.’

And then, like the wind billowing on the clifftop, he turned abruptly and broke into a jog and was gone.

* * *

‘Good?’ Pino checked as she came back to the car. ‘For your movie?’

‘It’s not my movie.’ Stella smiled but, craning her neck, she took a last look and could now see for herself Sir Charles’s problem. She had carefully read the extended brief on the plane and Palazzo Rinaldi was perfect indeed, but she was leaving it behind and already moving onto the next place.

Of course, what went up must go down, and so first they took the road down the cliff. She had to hold onto her seat as Pino slowed and then took a hairpin bend.

To think she’d considered hiring a car!

There was no way she could have driven this route. Aside from the driver being on the other side of the road, there were scooters overtaking and even crossing lanes and heading towards them. The view was incredible, though, the sea a glittering turquoise blue, but all too often there were sections where there weren’t even barriers.

Pino again slowed on a very precarious bend.

‘This is where the Rinaldi family died…’ he said, and she saw on the roadside a rusted, ageing shrine. ‘The cliffs claimed them, like they claimed Sant Lavia…’

* * *

And on to another potential location, up another winding road, and up and ever up.

She took copious photos and made endless notes, but no matter the magnificence of her surroundings, she kept comparing it to the Palazzo Rinaldi. Then her mind would drift back to that early morning moment, the jet black of his hair, the dark grey eyes, his powerful body and more so the way he had made her feel…

There was a wedding party at Ravello, and Stella smiled as she watched the bride and groom kiss on the photographer’s command and then for a moment forget the camera and simply kiss.

She’d never known that swept-away feeling, where a kiss could transport you. In fairness, she’d barely made it to the couch let alone the bedroom and had so little to compare it with, but for her there had never been that flare, that pit of the stomach feeling.

If the man from this morning had kissed her, she’d have known that feeling. Stella was quite, quite sure of that.

Odd that she could be so sure when she didn’t even know his name.

Gosh, why had she made such a mess of things and run? She should have stood her ground, calmly explained that it was a simple mistake.

The encounter stayed with her all through the day.

And as Pino brought her back to the gorgeous Bella Vista hotel where she was staying, she found her eyes kept searching for the palazzo. After each set of tight turns in the road, she would look up and feel oddly reassured when it came back into vision.

‘Tomorrow,’ Pino said, ‘eight a.m.’

Stella hesitated. She was supposed to be checking out early and moving on to Positano, but she decided to move her schedule around. ‘Make it eleven—I’m going to try and do a tour here in the morning.’

It would certainly be cutting things fine, but she wanted to capture a little more of that magic, see exactly why it worked, and, rather than risk being caught on proprietà privata, she’d decided to book a tour and get as legally close to the palazzo as she could.