Page 74 of In Italy for Love

He waved his shears for emphasis and said, ‘If I thought you would still be here to eat them yourself, you would have more motivation to store them well.’

Jules froze, her fears clogging in her throat again. Berengario approached the tree and studied it, either unaware of how his words had affected her or allowing time for the barb to sink into her flesh. He couldn’t expect that she would stay – could he? Her bank balance was crashing and, as hard as she’d tried to be useful, she was still dependent on the goodwill of these friends and neighbours – and whatever Alex was to her.

Despite all the devastating affection and new-found intimacy with him, nothing had changed from that first night: he’d only opened up to her because she was leaving. He didn’t want to let go of Laura and she would never ask him to.

She almost forgot to add that she would have to be a foolish nitwit to choose to stay in Italy for lovetwice. Even if she did love him…

Ouch.Shaking herself as she approached the tree and gripped a smooth, plump persimmon, Jules struggled to tear her thoughts away from the dawning of truth creeping over her skin like sunshine from behind a cloud. She didn’t love him. She’d only known him a few weeks – a shorter time than she’d known Luca before she’d torn up her life for him, and look where that had got her.

The swell of rebellion inside her, however, ripped off the Band-Aid. It was too late. She did love him. It was a different kind of love from what she’d felt for Luca: quieter, softer – hotter. Deeper.Oh dear…

She stole a glance at Alex and it all flashed through her. He was speaking companionably to Siore Cudrig as he snipped the fruit, a faint smile on his lips. She loved how he still mourned his wife, even though it hurt – even though it meant she couldn’t stay here for him.

She couldn’t stay – but she wanted to.

Her desire to escape had never been about leaving Italy. She’d been running from her mistakes. Staying with Luca had no longer been possible, but here… She glanced around the courtyard, blinking wildly against the prick of tears.

Feeling a pinch at her back, she turned to find Alex peering at her, his hand settling at her waist. ‘Are you okay?’ He dipped his head to study her.

She was now. ‘Yeah,’ she said, giving him a quick, hard kiss on the lips.

‘Enough of that now, lovers!’

Jules flinched away at the sound of Berengario’s voice from behind her and turned to find all of the neighbours taking surreptitious glances at them.

‘If you can’t stop touching each other, how about you two work with the ladder?’ Berengario suggested gruffly. ‘You’re both tall enough. Up you go. Alex, hold it steady.’

Jules followed his instructions with a wry smile, brushing past Alex as she climbed the rungs. She passed the fruit down to him, meeting his gaze occasionally at the graze of his fingertips over hers.

‘Romeo e Giulietta, eh?’ Siôr Mauri joked to Berengario.

‘The unlucky lovers?’ Berengario replied, giving Jules a sidelong look.

‘Star-crossed lovers,’ Alex corrected him tightly. ‘That’s the expression, isn’t it?’ He glanced at Jules for confirmation.

‘The original story was based in Udine, not Verona,’ Berengario added, as though the change of setting personally offended him. ‘But there are no “star-crossed” lovers today – only stupid ones.’ He slapped Alex on the back, making the ladder wobble.

Jules lost her footing, arms flailing for a sturdy branch as her balance shifted precariously, but Alex’s hand closing in the waistband of her jeans steadied her again and she heard him grumble something in Berengario’s direction.

He didn’t move his hand for long enough to heat her skin and she glanced down, expecting to find him giving her a cheeky smile, but he stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the entrance to the courtyard. The neighbours had all gone quiet too and only Arco’s barking – suddenly agitated – sounded in the courtyard.

She dipped her head. ‘What’s going on?’

Cold slid down her spine when she heard a response from the direction of Alex’s gaze in a voice she knew too well. ‘I could ask you the same thing, Jules.’

31

Alex had never truly experienced the urge to punch someone. Perhaps that was why the force of his resentment took him by surprise when he finally accepted that the man walking into the courtyard with one hand in his pocket like he owned the place was Luca, the turd who’d hurt Jules, stolen her confidence and destroyed her livelihood.

His grip on her jeans tightened, dragging his concentration out of the haze of anger, disappointment – fear.

‘Alex,’ she hissed. ‘Let me down.’

He resisted, keeping his fist tight in her waistband. He wanted to hold her up, safely away from the fool who’d put the shadows in her eyes. If he just kept his grip on her, maybe Luca’s hold would fade, maybe he’d just go away again and leave her alone – leave her here.

As much as he was angry on her behalf, it wasn’t anger that turned his stomach – it was the fear. Luca spelled the end. The intrusion was a wake-up call: Jules didn’t belong here and as soon as she had her passport, she’d be gone.

Maybe the man had finally realised what he’d lost and come to take her back. She wouldn’t go. He wassureshe wouldn’t go.He knew how much Luca had hurt her. But he also knew she’d loved him and love… Love was never entirely rational.

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