you—get a coffee or something.’
‘No. I couldn’t bear to say goodbye in public,’ she said, wondering how she’d even do it in private, and so he pulled into the drop-off zone, cut the engine and turned to her, his eyes shadowed by the streetlights.
‘Hey, don’t look like that,’ he murmured.
‘I can’t help it. I don’t want it to end,’ she said, unable to lie to him. ‘It’s been so special, Luca. Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me—and it doesn’t have to end,’ he said softly, as if he’d read her mind, and she shrugged.
‘Of course it does—and, anyway, we said just one night.’
‘Can’t I change your mind?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s silly getting involved. Long-distance relationships never work.’ Relationships, full stop. And it might be better to let it go than to ruin the memories with reality. At least this way she could treasure them unsullied.
‘There are ways,’ he said, oddly reluctant to let her go without some means of contacting her. ‘Tell me your number, cara. I’ll call you when I’m next in London.’
She shook her head. ‘No, Luca. That wasn’t the deal—and I need to go now, or I’ll miss my check-in.’
Oh, lord. She didn’t want to go, whatever she’d said about long-distance relationships. She didn’t want to leave him—couldn’t bear to—and, crazily, she thought she was going to cry. She tried to smile, but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate and she felt her eyes welling. ‘Look—I have to go.’
‘I know.’
He took her case from the boot and stood staring down at her, his eyes brooding and unreadable, and she flung her arms round him and hugged him, the tears welling once more. ‘Thank you, again, Luca. Thank you for everything,’ she said, and he shook his head.
‘Hush, cara,’ he murmured, and, lifting his hands, he cupped her cheek and brushed the tears from her face, then leaned in and touched his lips to hers.
It was a gentle kiss, tender and comforting, but then something shifted, and he threaded his fingers through her hair and anchored her head and kissed her with all the passion, all the incredible sensuality that he’d shown her last night.
Then finally he lifted his head, his breathing harsh, his face taut, but his fingers on her cheek were gentle. ‘Give me your number—your address. I’ll come and see you.’
‘No—it’s silly, Luca. We live too far apart—you’re going to be working in Florence.’
‘Maybe not. Isabelle—take my card. Call me, even if it’s just to tell me you’re home safe. Please. And if you change your mind…’
She hesitated, then took it and stuffed it into her pocket. ‘Oh—your scarf!’ she said, reaching for it, but he stilled her hands.
‘Keep it. You’ll be cold on the plane.’
She nodded, her eyes filling. ‘Thank you.’ She blinked away the tears. ‘I have to go,’ she said, choked. ‘Goodbye, Luca.’
‘Goodbye, Isabella,’ he said softly, and his hand fell to his side, leaving her desolate. Grabbing her case, she ran into the airport without a backward glance before she made a fool of herself and started to cry again.
Luca watched her go, shocked at the emotion that ripped through him. He had to hold himself back, force himself not to follow her into the terminal and make her stay. He didn’t know what had happened to him, but for some reason, everything felt different. Real. And he couldn’t bear to let her go.
He waited until she was out of sight. Gave her time to come back, to call him.
Then he got back into his car and drove slowly out of the airport, his mind still full of the woman who’d blown his world apart…
CHAPTER TWO
HER JOURNEY WAS awful.
The flight was delayed, then they hit turbulence over the Alps and just about everyone was ill—including her—and by the time she got home she felt wrung out. She groped for her house keys, and found his card in her pocket where he’d tucked it as she was leaving him.
Luca Valtieri, she read, and a mobile number. She hadn’t known his surname. It hadn’t really mattered, not then. Not now, really. She wasn’t going to see him again.
But she missed him.
Ridiculously so, with an ache that was almost physical.
Just a quick call, she promised herself—just long enough to hear his voice and tell him she was safe. And she could withhold her number so he wouldn’t be able to call her back. That way she’d have control of the relationship—
No! It wasn’t a relationship. She wouldn’t let it be! But she was desperate to hear his voice, to have some kind of contact with the man who’d stolen her heart so suddenly.
So she rang him, and after a few moments she got his voicemail. She rang it again, just to hear his message, to hear the low rumble of his voice, the crisp message at odds with the man she’d spent last night with, and finally she spoke.
‘Hi, Luca, it’s Isabelle, I’m sorry I’ve missed you. I’m back. And thank you—for everything.’
Then she hung up, resisting the urge to give him her number. She could always call him again. Next week, perhaps. Or tomorrow.
No! Not tomorrow. Not next week, either. She was being ridiculous. She didn’t want a relationship. Last time was enough for a lifetime.
She swallowed hard and then on impulse she turned on her computer and typed ‘Luca Valtieri’ into a search engine, expecting nothing, really, maybe a paper or two, some medical reference—and got a whole bunch of stuff.
Exstracts from articles in medical journals, research material, awards—but nothing personal, nothing to tell her more about the man himself except the fact that he was clearly very active and involved with his field of medicine, and he’d worked with a lot of English consultants whose names she recognised.
Silly her. She’d fallen—and how!—for a truly gorgeous man with a devastating smile and a kiss that had wiped out all the common sense she’d been born with, and not only that, he was funny and intelligent and dedicated. Thank God she’d refused to see him again. He was much too dangerous to her peace of mind but, oh, she missed him.
Oh, well. She’d get over it. She had before. It wasn’t the first time her heart had been broken, although that time, of course, she’d been betrayed. Idly she wondered how she would have felt about Luca if she’d been able to trust him with her heart, but she couldn’t turn the clock back and she had no idea how it would feel to have that much faith in a man.
Impossible. And if she’d allowed herself to fall for Luca, how much more would it have hurt when it all went wrong?
She swallowed hard. At least she’d had the sense to withhold her number, so he wouldn’t be able to contact her.
