from then onwards.’
It didn’t matter how tired she was, how uncomfortable she felt around Logan—it was all she could do not to throw off her shoes and dash across the entrance courtyard right now to get in and start examining it.
She gave a polite, cautious nod. ‘I’m keen to start work with you as soon as possible, Louisa.’
Louisa’s eyes widened and she let out a laugh. ‘Oh, you won’t be working with me.’ She gestured towards Logan. ‘You’ll be working with Logan. I have absolutely no expertise on any of these things. I’ve started to call him Mr Restoration. Anything to do with the work has to be agreed with him.’
Lucia eyes fell to the empty glass on the table. Where was more water when she needed it? This was the last thing she wanted to hear.
She smiled politely once again. ‘But, as the owner, I need to agree access with you and have you sign any paperwork the heritage board may require. I also need to be able to come to and from the palazzo at my leisure. I will be staying at a nearby hotel.’
‘What? Oh, no. You’re staying here. Come, and I’ll show you to your room.’ She was on her feet in an instant. ‘We have renovated some parts of the palazzo, you know.’ She waved her hand. ‘And it will all be finished before the wedding.’ As she reached the door she turned, waiting for Lucia to follow her.
The corners of Logan’s lips were turning upwards.
‘Ms Harrison, I really don’t want to put you to any trouble. I’m more than happy to stay in a hotel and just travel to and from the palazzo. It will only be for a few days. I don’t expect my research to take any longer than that.’
Louisa shook her head. ‘Nonsense. You’ll stay here. I insist. As for the paperwork, Logan will need to read that first and explain it to me. My Italian is still very rusty.’
Louisa had already started up a flight of stairs, obviously expecting Lucia to follow her. ‘You’re going to have a beautiful view over the vineyard. And you’re welcome to use the kitchen if you want.’ She paused. ‘But there’s a really nice restaurant in Monte Calanetti you should try.’
She wanted to object. She wanted to get away from here. But it was important that she have some sort of relationship with the owner. And because of that the words were sticking in the back of her throat. Louisa hadn’t stopped talking. She was already halfway up the stairs. It obviously didn’t occur to her that Lucia might continue with her objections. ‘I’m sure you’ll love the room.’
Lucia sucked in a breath. She wasn’t even going to look in Logan’s direction. If she saw him smile smugly she might just take off one of her shoes and throw it at him in frustration. At least she had the assurance that he wouldn’t actually be under the same roof as her.
Just achingly close.
‘I’ll be back in five minutes. I want to see the fresco,’ she shot at him as she left the room.
She walked up the stairs after Louisa and along a corridor. This palazzo had three floors—it was unusual, and had obviously survived throughout the ages. The person who’d built this had obviously had plenty of money to build such a large home in the Tuscan hills. Even transporting the stones here must have been difficult. What with the land, and the vineyard, along with all the outbuildings she’d spotted and the chapel, at one time this must have been a thriving little community.
Louisa took her into a medium-sized room with a double bed and wooden-framed glass windows overlooking the vineyard. Everything about the room was fresh and clean. There was white linen on the bed and a small table and chair next to the window, with a classic baroque chair in the corner. A wooden wardrobe, bedside table and mirror on the wall completed the furnishings.
A gentle breeze made the white drapes at the window flap, bringing the scents of the rich greenery, grapes and lavender inside. Her red case was presumptuously sitting next to the doorway.
‘I’ll bring you up a jug of water, a glass and some wine for later,’ said Louisa as she headed out the door. ‘Oh, and we don’t quite have an en suite, but the bathroom is right next door. You’ll be the only person that’s using it.’
She disappeared quickly down the hall, leaving Lucia looking around the room. She sank down onto the bed. It felt instantly comfortable. Instantly inviting. The temperature of the room was cool, even though the breeze drifting in was warm, and she could hear the sounds of the workers in the vineyard.
She closed her eyes for a few seconds. She could do this. Two days tops then she could be out of here again.
Logan. Seeing him again was hard. So hard. The familiar sight of Logan, the scent of Logan was tough. She couldn’t let him invade her senses. She couldn’t let him into her brain, because if she did a whole host of other memories would come flooding back—ones that she couldn’t face again.
This is business. She repeated her mantra once more.
The smell of the Tuscan hills was wrapping itself around her. Welcoming her to the area. Her stomach grumbled. She was hungry, but food would have to wait. She wanted to see the fresco.
She walked over and grabbed her case, putting it on the bed and throwing it open.
It was time to get to work.
* * *
Logan had finished pacing and was waiting for Lucia to appear. He’d walked back out to the courtyard and was leaning against the side of the doorway to the chapel with his arms folded across his chest.
It was much warmer out here, but he thrived in the Italian sun.
Seeing Lucia had been a shock to the system. His first glance had been at her left hand but there had been no wedding ring, no glittering diamond of promise. He was surprised. He’d always imagined that after twelve years Lucia would have been married with children. The fact she wasn’t bothered him—in more ways than one.
She’d been hurt, she’d been wounded when they’d split. Even though it had been by mutual agreement. But he’d always hoped she’d healed and moved on. When he’d heard she was working for the Italian Heritage Board he’d assumed she’d pulled things together and was focusing on her career. Now he was suspicious she’d only focused on her career.
Lucia had aged beautifully. She was still petite and elegant. Her pale pink suit jacket and matching dress hugged her curves, leaving a view of her shapely calves.
And she’d kept her long hair. It was maybe only a few inches shorter than it had been the last time he’d seen her. He liked it that way. Had liked it when her hair had brushed against his face—liked it even more when her long eyelashes had tickled his cheek as she’d moved closer.
It was odd. Even though there were lots of parts of his body that could have responded to the first sight of her, it had been his lips that had reacted first. One sight of her had been enough to remember the feel of her soft lips against his, remember the taste of her. And as she’d stepped closer he’d been swamped by her smell. Distinctive. Delicious. In any other set of circumstances...hot.
But not in these circumstances. Not when delays on this project could result in a late completion penalty that could bankrupt his company. Louisa was serious about this place being ready for the royal wedding. She was depending on it.
