was a poignant moment. As Stefano stepped out of the stark sunlight and back into the shadows, Kira hesitated. The shade should have been a wonderful relief from the hot afternoon. Instead, she felt the chill of abandonment, and not for the first time. It was the story of her life. She had been given up as a lost cause by her stepparents. Then her place on the sidelines of their life became permanent when their unexpected natural child arrived. Now she was doing much the same to the garden she had cherished. In a few weeks or months, she would have to turn her back on this place and leave it in the hands of others. She shuddered.
Stefano noticed, and smiled at her in a way calculated to immediately warm her up.
‘It sounds as though you will be my perfect neighbour.’
Kira shot him a look that said she didn’t share his view.
‘I promise the experience will be an unforgettable one,’ he added quietly.
She ignored that, and told him the simple truth. ‘I’m afraid anyone who buys this house automatically gets on the wrong side of me. Sir Ivan and I used to co-exist in this valley very well. I can’t imagine anyone else being a better neighbour than he was.’
She thought it would be safer to warn Stefano what she was like, right from the beginning. Instead of sympathising, he laughed.
‘I’ll try,’ he said mischievously. ‘Let’s hope I can play the part as well as you act the role of estate agent!’
His refusal to take her statement seriously was infuriating. ‘I’m not acting. I’m here to make sure nothing happens to the villa keys,’ she said stiffly. ‘You’re here to view the place. We’ve got nothing in common, and we’re never going to see each other again after today.’
Stefano said nothing, but smiled at her with an assessing look in his meltingly dark eyes. The dappled sunshine played on his clean, beautiful features and suddenly the thought of never seeing him again wasn’t quite as comforting as she had expected.
As they continued their tour of the house, Kira began to wonder if she had misjudged the captivating Signor Stefano Albani. They did have one thing in common. It was obvious the moment they reached the first floor. He strode straight to the nearest window and looked out. Only when he had inspected the vista with its avenue of sweetly scented lime trees did he begin his careful study of the floors, walls and furnishings. Watching him, she noticed he carried out the same ritual with each new room they entered. He paid no attention to the high ceilings and airily beautiful rooms until he had studied what was on show outside. Finally, she couldn’t stay silent any longer.
‘I see you like the view,’ she said with satisfaction.
There was a pause before he answered. It gave her strange pleasure to see that he carried on drinking in the scenery before he replied. ‘Is it so obvious?’
‘You make a beeline for the windows each time we enter a room.’
He frowned, seeming uncomfortable that she had noticed his simple enjoyment of their beautiful surroundings.
‘I’m simply checking to see where the nearest neighbours are. I value my privacy.’
Kira nodded, covering a smile. ‘I understand. This valley is perfect for that. You won’t be disturbed. Let’s hope you don’t disturb me!’
He gave her a sharp look, then paced on towards the next room. As he walked, he compared what he was seeing with the beautifully produced brochure. Kira decided to get a copy of the booklet for herself. It would be a permanent reminder of this day, and the house. She was seeing it for the first and last time, and that made her happy to wander along in Stefano’s wake. He needed no commentary, and took his time. While he judged and estimated distances and sizes, Kira simply enjoyed herself. The old house was beautiful. Its corridors and great rooms had a quiet grace, despite all the grime and dust. Sir Ivan couldn’t have visited the upper storeys of his house in years. There were worm-eaten long-case clocks on plinths, dusty carriage clocks on equally dusty coffee tables and delicate little china clocks on every mantelpiece. There wasn’t so much as a tick or a tock between them. All were silent. All were sad. Only the sound of a golden oriole warbling from the lime trees outside and swifts screaming overhead broke the thick summer silence.
‘Ah, perfetto,’ Stefano breathed, with a look of total satisfaction. Kira was entranced. As he strolled on into the final room on the top floor, she stopped. There was no point in going any further. The small, square box room was no competition for her last uninterrupted viewing of Stefano Albani. She watched as he finished inspecting the house that might become his own. He moved with the self-assured grace of a man who would be at home anywhere. His gestures were expansive as he waved the brochure in her direction, drawing her attention to some fact or another. He only became still when he returned to his favourite position, at the window. Kira felt somehow relieved to see him at rest, if only for a short while. He gave the impression of continuous movement, no matter how slight. She found that unsettling. When he was still like this, lost in thought, she could almost imagine he was at peace. Almost…but not quite. There was always a trace of tension lingering around those eyes. When he forgot to try and charm her, they held the thousand-mile stare of a troubled man.
She found herself drawn inexorably towards him. Silently, she moved across the bare floorboards, past anonymous, dust-sheeted furniture. The need to reach out and touch him again before he was lost to her forever was irresistible.
And then he moved. The moment was broken. He turned to her in surprise, but then a slow smile warmed his features, and she realised she had raised a hand as though to touch him.
‘Go ahead. Be my guest. As we’re going to be neighbours, it’s a good idea for us to get to know each other better, wouldn’t you say?’
Kira pulled her hand back as though she had been burned. ‘I—I was going to brush a cobweb from your shoulder. You know how dusty these old houses can be…’ She faltered, convincing neither of them.
Stefano was intrigued. Kira was full of contradictions. Half of her seemed to be yearning towards him, but something kept pulling her back. With another woman, he might have taken advantage of the situation straight away, but he wasn’t about to push his luck with Miss Kira Banks—not for a while, at least. She interested him.
In the short time they had been together, he recognised the pain in her. It was too close to home. He wondered how deep the similarities ran between him and this privileged young Englishwoman. Once, when he was young, he had come face to face with tragedy. He could have let it crush him to powder. He dodged that, but paid a heavy price. From that moment, he had spent his whole life on the run. He was afraid of nothing but his conscience. This woman didn’t need to draw pictures when she spoke to him. She had escaped from somewhere and ended up here. That was enough information for him—for the moment. He knew what it felt like to be goaded by guilt.
The fact we’ve both decided on this hidden valley is somehow comforting, he thought, and then cursed sharply. What did he need with comfort? All he wanted was somewhere he could withdraw from his hectic business life and enjoy some quality time. The Bella Terra estate offered everything he wanted. And it had the added advantage that at least one of the neighbours shared his love of solitude.
‘I really enjoyed that,’ Kira said as they reached the front doors again after the grand tour.
‘You
