Page 32 of An Italian Wedding Adventure

‘Maybe. But we should grab some shots of the crosses and then I’m dying for a swim and a pizza, in that order.’

‘I like your thinking. I might join you, for both.’ He followed her along the rocky path down to the spur that boasted a small metal cross and a white Madonna.

‘As long as you keep your clothes on this time, Hinterdorfer,’ she called over her shoulder.

His steps petered out as he was struck by memories, by warmth at the realisation that she’d shared all of those moments and filed them away as he had. ‘I don’t remember you complaining.’

‘I will certainly complain if you scandalise the families at the beach in Marniga.’

‘Don’t worry. I like freedom but I’m not an exhibitionist. I only swim naked with people who’ve seen it all before.’ He winked at her as he passed, taking up his position in front of the cross, hands behind his back, so she could snap her photo before they tramped back to the car.

She fell asleep on the way back to Marniga, after fighting it for a good ten minutes. He’d pushed her today and he wasn’t sure if he felt guilty about it, especially now the rain hadn’t materialised. She’d been much brighter on the way down from the second peak than the first, but he wouldn’t point that out to her. If she needed to grumble during the lows, when her muscles screamed and her motivation dipped, then she was welcome to do it. He knew she could push through it. He remembered…

Too much. He remembered far too much about the woman snuffling softly in the passenger seat.

Shaking her gently awake when he reached the car park, that ache in his ribs started up again when she sluggishly opened her eyes.

‘Oh, shit, I fell asleep.’

‘Still swearing at sea level?’

She scowled at him.

‘Blame me if you have to, but out you come. Avanti!Hopp hopp! It’s time to go swimming.’

‘Don’t you “avanti” me! I’m coming!’

13

Do you remember when we went swimming on the last day of the Selvaggio Blu?

Sophie kept her mouth shut and stared up at the sky as she reclined on the pebbles, the cool water lapping at her waist. Since she hadn’t exchanged any harsh words with Andreas for several hours, it was far too dangerous to start reminiscing about the trip to Sardinia where they’d got to know each other, even though the water and the rocks and the shirtless man with golden skin took her right back.

The lake was several degrees cooler – a blessed relief for her sore legs – and the man several years older. But metaphors about fine wine meandered through her thoughts as she sneaked a peek at him.

Rory had been on that trip too…That thought poured cold water over her reminiscences. She didn’t remember struggling to peel her eyes off Rory, finding every little thing he did attractive. But, damn, she’d been on fire for Andreas by the third day. He’d licked his thumb once after eating the fish they’d cooked on the camp stove and she’d felt the action in her stomach. One word from him had burrowed deeper than all of the friendly conversations she’d had with Rory on the trail.

Her fascination hadn’t been a good basis for a relationship. She’d dived in too deep and learned that lesson the hard way, but that didn’t stop the renewed tug now, when she was supposed to know better. She was still fascinated by the twitch of wistfulness on his face as he strode through the water in her direction. His face. She was fascinated by his face, even as droplets streamed down his body and the muscles in his torso bunched and released, sunlight caressing the dips and swells of his chest. Okay, she was fascinated by a little more than just his face.

‘Feeling better?’ he asked, swiping his wet hair off his forehead.

She smiled and nodded as he sat down beside her, resting his arms on his knees.

‘I think we should do Cima Rocca next – the via ferrata,’ he said decisively.

Her stomach clenched. There had been a time when the thought of a via ferrata hadn’t given her a spike of fear, but that time had been short and was firmly in the past. ‘Shouldn’t I work up to that?’

‘It’s a very basic route, not much more difficult than what we did today. You’ll do fine.’

‘I’m not twenty-six any more, you know,’ she said, aiming for peevish, but not quite managing it.

‘You’re pretty fit. You had no problems on two moderately technical hikes, despite the lack of practice. I wouldn’t worry about it.’

She sighed deeply. ‘You always did push me out of my comfort zone.’

‘Do you mean that as a bad thing?’ His tone was even, as though he’d accept her opinion if she were criticising his methods.

‘Not necessarily,’ she acknowledged. ‘I did have problems today. I felt as though my legs were on fire during the last part of the first ascent. I got wobbly climbing down from Monte Castello di Gaino and the thought of a via ferrata makes my stomach churn.’

---