Page 21 of An Italian Wedding Adventure

‘I do no such thing,’ she retorted. ‘If someone doesn’t want to get married, then nothing I say is going to change their mind – asyouwell know!’ She took a deep breath. ‘It’s not my job to convince people to get married.’

‘But your livelihood does depend on it.’

‘I wouldn’t make comments about my livelihood when yours seems a little tenuous. And I don’t know whyyou’recriticisingme. It’s been barely half an hour and we’ve degenerated to this already,’ she mumbled at the end.

‘What did you expect when you roped me into helping with your wedding research?’

‘I thought we’d cleared the air – somewhat at least.’

His injured tone put her off-balance. She still didn’t understand why he seemed to resent her for asking him to marry her. He hadn’t lost anything by her asking.

‘Yes, we cleared the air but it doesn’t mean I’m going to cry at their wedding. I’ll show you around different places so you can do your research, take your photos. Kira and I can plan the hen and bachelor parties, but the ceremony is your thing. I don’t have to like it.’

Sophie blew a long breath out through thinned lips. ‘Fine. That’s fair.’

She stared out of the window, seeing only streaks of green and the ribbon of the grey road. Hopefully, his disparaging remarks would be the nail in the coffin of this old attraction and she might find some much-needed closure.

‘You said the Great Heart accommodation is in Brenzone?’ she asked, changing the subject. ‘That’s about an hour from the reception venue. Kira and whichever other guide we have during the wedding might be able to stay there, but I’ll have to sleep at the venue.’

‘They’re having a normal reception?’

‘Since she can’t have the nice dress for the ceremony, we’ve planned a traditional wedding reception. That’s my area of expertise, don’t worry. I’ll need to drop by the venue at some stage, but I can hire a car and go alone.’

‘I can be a taxi service.’

‘At your mountain-guide rates? You’ve just taken great pains to remind me how much you hate weddings. You don’t have to chaperone me around the lake. If there’s a kettle in my room, you won’t even need to see much of me.’

He didn’t respond, but the bob of his throat suggested he was working up to saying something – probably something she wouldn’t like. ‘About the accommodation…’

‘Oh, God, don’t tell me. Is it bunk beds? I knew when you said we should stay at the Great Heart property that there would be a catch.’

‘No catch. It’s a small place – two bedrooms and a kitchen-diner. We usually use it for the guides before and after a trip, rather than clients, but… when I said it was Great Heart accommodation, that wasn’t quite true. The place belongs to my family. My grandparents bought it.’

‘To go on holiday? I thought your family didn’t like leaving South Tyrol.’

He eyed her. ‘They like to come to the water where it’s a little warmer.’

‘So it’s not free accommodation then? You give us mates rates or something?’

‘No, I don’t charge,’ he said with a vehement shake of his head. ‘We don’t rent out the apartment at all. It’s usually sitting empty.’

She stared at him, perplexed. ‘Why?’

When he didn’t immediately answer, she suspected there was more bad news.

‘It’s in an old building. It needs renovation, but none of us can afford it, so…’ He shuffled in his seat, taking a hairpin curve with practised hands. ‘It’s liveable. It’s fine, just don’t expect a nice hotel.’

‘I didn’t,’ she insisted. ‘But you should charge. You’re not only working for Willard now.’

‘Just wait until you see the place.’

She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter what—’ The Panda had trundled around another hairpin curve and Sophie’s words trailed off. Tall, narrow cypress trees swished past the windows, interspersed with stone pines. Rhododendrons tumbled over the chain-link fence at the side of the road, blooming vivid red. Clay rooftiles baked in the afternoon sun with a little haze that suggested warm temperatures for late May.

But it was the view that forced air into the deepest bronchioles of her lungs, that loosened the muscles in her forehead.

She sighed. ‘I always forget.’

‘Forget what?’

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