Page 73 of An Italian Wedding Adventure

‘I had to give up my room,’ she murmured between kisses.

‘Hmm?’

‘There was a mix-up – a couple broke up and needed an extra room, so I checked out.’

He drew back to study her. ‘You don’t need to kiss me to stay at the apartment. I’m happy getting out the extra bed if necessary.’

‘I know,’ she said, drawing him back to her. ‘But having you in the bed is a nice perk.’

Wrapping her in a cocooning hug, he rested his jaw against the top of her head. ‘Two days,’ he murmured.

‘What’s that?’

‘Two days is as long as we lasted before getting back together.’ His arms tightened.

She stilled, soft and calm against him, but with a ripple of unease at just how good she felt. ‘It’s not “back together”. Just because we—’ She’d been about to say,love each other, but the words alarmed her enough that they got stuck in her throat. She had to remember that for him, love was a weakness. She had to remember how he’d dismissed her so thoroughly eight years before and ignore the little voice that insisted something had changed. He’d never claimed that anything had changed – the opposite, in fact.

Besides, this wasn’t love. Love was… She had no idea what love was – another check-box on her ‘Sophie is a hypocrite’ worksheet – but it couldn’t be this. She didn’t believe in love stories with sad endings.

‘Understood,’ he said with a nod, smoothing his hand over her hair. ‘It’s just a messy break.’

28

Andreas had not expected to awake on the morning of the hen party with his mind and his heart – and his arms – full of Sophie. God, she was beautiful when she slept, her hair a mess, her face slack, pressed into his shoulder, one arm slung over his torso.

He possibly shouldn’t have let it happen, especially when she’d had a shock to remind her of her own loss and he was still smarting from her assumption that he was sleeping with Kira. Objectively, it hadn’t been an unreasonable one. He didn’t usually tie himself up in knots over relationships, kept his head clear for self-preservation, but she should have known his head wasn’t clear.

Please don’t, Andreas, she’d said when he’d tried to tell her he’d never felt this way about anyone else. Sophie did weddings and commitment and lifetimes and he knew, when he left for Manaslu, he’d upset her and he hated the prospect.

Enough to cancel the expedition? He was starting to consider the possibility.

His skin went cold at the thought, restlessness, anxiety, images of her marrying and divorcing Rory Brent surging through him. It was enough for him to gently remove her arm and haul himself out of bed. He’d never brought anything good into her life or given her a reason to forgive him for rejecting her so baldly all those years ago.

Kira eyed him when she came out of her room at the scent of coffee, but he silenced any questions she might have with a shake of his head. She hadn’t seemed surprised when he’d arrived home last night with Sophie and her suitcase in tow.

By the time Sophie emerged, looking disoriented, he’d already checked the equipment for the day and stacked it by the door, as well as filled Kira in on Lily’s pregnancy and the safety adjustments required.

‘There are eggs in the pan on the stove,’ he said to Sophie by way of good morning, running a hand over the back of his head instead of obsessing about whether to kiss her.

‘Thanks.’

He tried to shake his mood when they got to the car, but the frustration rose in his throat again when Sophie climbed into the back, as though she thought he’d rather have Kira in the passenger seat, when he’d been looking forward to admiring Sophie’s bare legs and her look of concentration as she worked on her tablet.

Hen parties were familiar ground both in Weymouth and at home, but he felt a shiver of unease that day when he pulled up in the car park in Riva to see Lily and her five friends in their swimsuits and wraps and kaftans, already pouring sparkling wine into tumblers. He’d experienced the odd tipsy client making eyes at him in the past and the prospect made his skin crawl that day.

Sophie was out of the car like a shot, immediately on duty to help Lily hide the fact that she wasn’t drinking.

Andreas greeted the women briefly, ignoring a lingering look from the tall bridesmaid he thought was called Lucia, and went to where the owner of the kayak hire business was waiting by the water’s edge with five boats.

‘Filippo! Buongiorno.’

‘Ciao, griaß di, Andreas.’

While the hen group chattered and applied sun cream and tried on the life vests, Andreas noticed Sophie standing to the side sending wary looks at the kayaks. She was still wearing her shorts and the soft blouse with embroidery along the hem that made him want to brush his fingers along her buttons. Her gaze snapped up and she caught him watching her. She hurried over.

‘I was just thinking, you don’t need me to come, right?’

He crossed his arms. ‘I thought you were supposed to take photos.’

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