Page 9

‘You ran,’ Gabe said, ‘as if for your life.’

Stella gave a tight smile, feeling doubly guilty, but of course unable to correct him with the truth, that it had been her primal reaction to him that had startled her.

Bemused her, even now.

Yet her reaction to him remained.

He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

It was nice to sit outside, so very nice to be here with him, yet there was something she had to get out of the way, half expecting his invitation to join him for dinner was about to be rescinded as she confessed why she was here.

‘I’m not with the press, but I am here for work,’ she told him as a waiter placed their aperitifs down. ‘I work for a company that spots locations for movies. It’s actually a very reputable one.’

‘If it was any good, you’d already know you’re wasting your time. There have been regular requests to use the palazzo as a film location. All have been knocked back.’

‘We know.’ Stella nodded, thinking about what Sir Charles had said. ‘I’m just here to try and get a feel for the place and then try and find somewhere else to emulate it.’

‘How long are you here for?’

‘I check out tomorrow, on to Positano, then Capri,’ she said, while looking through the menu. ‘Gosh, I don’t know where to start.’

‘Pasta al limone is the speciality here…’

‘Lemon pasta?’ She checked because it sounded such an odd combination, but even if she wasn’t sure she decided to give it a try.

Usually, his dinner dates took place after a trip to the theatre or some such, where it meant there was something to discuss and at least pretend it wasn’t all just about sex. Or he would take his date somewhere fashionable and high end because she wanted to be seen with him.

He hated being seen.

Gabe knew their games, for he played them too.

But never were his dates, not that this was one, spent chatting easily about the palazzo, or in pleasant mutual silence, just pausing for a moment to watch a descending ball of fire bleed into the sky, painting it crimson.

‘Shepherd’s delight,’ she sighed. ‘It means…’

‘I know what it means—we have a similar saying—red in the evening, one hopes for good weather, although we don’t usually see such red skies. Tomorrow should be a beautiful day.’

‘Did you grow up here?’

He gave a slight nod.

‘Gosh, I can’t imagine going to school here. I’d be staring out of the window all the time…’

Nor could Gabe imagine going to school here. Before the accident he’d had a governess and tutors, and afterwards he’d attended an elite boarding school in Milan.

She didn’t seem to mind that he didn’t respond. She was still looking up at the darkened sky and watching the stars pop out. Then she turned to him.

‘Sir Charles, my boss, has a lot of fond memories of here. He and his wife, Lady Atherton…’

‘Sir Charles Atherton?’ he checked.

‘You know him?’

‘I know of him.’ He nodded as their meals arrived.

The lemon pasta was delicious, she declared as she twisted pasta on her fork and he cut into a steak. ‘I want to get some of the olive oil to take home, maybe a lemon olive oil…’

He looked up.