Page 21 of In Italy for Love

Then he laughed. It wasn’t much more than a chuckle, but when relief washed over her, she realised how much his reserve had confused her.

‘Don’t come running to me when you wake up from your bad dream,’ he said drily, as though he didn’t realise what pictures that put into her head. ‘So, you’re an Australian-Calabrian Volpijust waiting for a passport so you can leave your ancestral home again?’

‘Volpe,’ she corrected him glumly, staring into her soup. ‘A homeless, penniless, jobless Australian-Calabrian Volpe.’

‘Julia Volpe.’ It felt as though he were trying out the shape of her full name on his lips. Giving her a short, rueful smile, he held out his hand over the top of their bowls. ‘Nice to meet you properly, Julia Volpe. I’m Alessandro Mattelig.’

She took his hand haltingly. ‘Huh. Wow.’

‘Hmm?’

She should let go of his hand but her thoughts had got stuck. ‘I suppose I… Last night was so wonderfully out of normal time, I keep assuming you don’t exist except as a perfect figment of my imagination, like I’ve hit rock bottom, so I invented you to make me feel better. But you have a full name. You exist.’

‘I do,’ he ventured doubtfully. ‘At least, I think I do. Are we ever really certain about that?’

‘I couldn’t have made you up.’ She hadn’t imagined after the past year that she could still feel that warm tingle when she looked at someone. She didn’t have the optimism for that. ‘I’ve never heard your surname before, so I couldn’t have made it up.’

She was relieved Alex didn’t look concerned that she’d lost her marbles. He just studied her and said, ‘I know what you mean. Last night felt imaginary. But here you are – again.’ He didn’t look happy about it and she wished she weren’t so disappointed that he hadn’t been as drawn to her as she’d been to him.

‘I really appreciate you putting me up for the night,’ she said, pulling her hand back from his warm, rough one. Standing, she took her plate to the sink and turned on the tap.

‘Don’t worry?—’

‘You cooked, so I should clean up,’ she insisted.

But he reached around her and turned off the tap, and all she could do was go still and try to stop her knees from giving out when his presence seemed to melt her from the inside. She remembered him holding her in this kitchen last night, before she’d bolted.

‘Go to bed,’ he said gently. ‘You’ve been at bodybuilding boot camp all day.’

The joke made her drop her guard and she looked up at him – bad idea. He was standing far too close and her memory was too good. Jules had made so many bad decisions in recent years, but she’d be gone for real tomorrow and what was one more kiss?

Lifting her palm to his cheek, she leaned close to press her lips softly to his.

She didn’t know what she’d intended, but she hadn’t expected his hand to slip around her back and haul her closer after he’d been a frowny grump all evening. But the grump kissed her back.

The kisses started slow – teasing even – but it wasn’t long before she had her fingers twisted in his hair and they were both gasping for breath. He nudged her chin up to kiss her neck, a shudder racing through him. She had to fumble for the kitchen bench as her spine melted.

‘Why does that feel so good?’ she mumbled, her eyes falling shut.

She shouldn’t have said anything because he stopped abruptly, pressing his cheek briefly to hers before drawing away.

‘I don’t know,’ he said flatly. ‘I didn’t mean to do that again.’

His words prickled over her with misgiving and she dropped her hands, grasping his pullover to steady herself – steady both of them. Glancing at the kitchen window with its gauzy lace half-curtains, she almost expected to see Berengario peering in.

Alex was real – a man with his own life and family, his own secrets. He wasn’t an anonymous accordion player whom she’d asked out on a whim and then had the most unexpected, wonderful date with.

‘We shouldn’t then,’ she forced out, stepping away firmly. ‘Thank you for dinner. Goodnight,’ she murmured and ran for her room before she did something else stupid.

Tucked up in bed fifteen minutes later, she congratulated herself on her sensible behaviour as consolation for the cold and rather lumpy bed. The radiator was more lukewarm than hot, but she couldn’t go back down and ask Alex or she might find him half-dressed and looking ridiculously attractive. Arco lay across the door which would have been sweet if it had been out of protective instincts, but Jules suspected it was because he wanted to go back downstairs into the warmth – maybe even to Alex, the traitor.

Despite her conviction that she’d done the right thing, she slept poorly. She awoke several times thinking she heard the faint ghostly humming of an accordion. Once she dropped into a deep sleep, she had vivid dreams, although whether they were of zombies and vampires she didn’t remember in the morning.

All she did have when she woke up was the lingering panic about the state of her life and the stab of regret that she’d stopped kissing Alessandro Mattelig.

10

Alex snapped awake quickly the following morning, relieved to hear the thump of footsteps above him. Good, she hadn’t left yet. By the time he’d pulled on some clothes and wrenched his bedroom door open, she was coming down the stairs, backpack in place, holding Arco’s lead.

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