thought about it. ‘I guess it’d be something like the Changing of the Guard outside Buckingham Palace. Mind you, you need to be there early to get a decent spot to see it, so it’ll have to be a weekend.’
‘We’ll leave that for Saturday, then.’
She gave him a regretful smile. ‘Sorry, I can’t make it. I’m working.’
‘You’re working six days a week?’ Rico looked concerned. ‘You’re risking burnout if you keep up that kind of pace.’
‘Unless I have a really big celebration cake to sort out, it’s only half a morning on Saturdays, enough to keep the cafés stocked with cupcakes. They’re closed on Sundays, so I can take Sundays off,’ she explained.
‘Let’s do the Changing of the Guard on Sunday, then.’
He hadn’t given her any idea about his schedule; she didn’t have a clue when he was going back to Rome. ‘Are you in London for very long?’
‘Possibly.’
Which served her right for asking a closed question. Then again, she had the feeling that Rico could turn the most open question into a closed one.
‘We should make a list of places we’re going to see.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘You’re such a control freak, Rico.’
‘You work with lists,’ he pointed out, gesturing to the lists held to her fridge door by magnets.
‘I like being organised.’
‘Now who’s the control freak?’ he teased, and kissed her.
If he kept this up, she’d forget all about making acquaintances and go straight for benefits. ‘Busted,’ she said, and moved away from him to make the coffee—while she still could. ‘With you coming from Rome, I guess we should do a tour of Roman London. We can start with the Roman Wall; plus there’s a Roman bath near the Strand, and an amphitheatre under the Guildhall. And guide books are bound to list other stuff I don’t know about.’
‘So you’re going to be my personal tour guide of London?’
‘Ironic, considering how I met you.’ She coughed. ‘Except I’m not pretending to be a guide.’
‘I wasn’t pretending. I was doing the job—and I didn’t hear any complaints from you,’ he reminded her.
‘No. You really made the Colosseum come alive for me. You know a lot about your home city.’
‘Because I love Rome,’ he said simply. ‘It’s the only place I ever want to live.’
So this thing between them, she thought, had definite limits. She had no intention of moving to Rome, and he had no intention of moving here. Not permanently. So she’d take the warning as read. This was a fling, until his interest waned. She’d enjoy it while it lasted, but she wouldn’t expect anything more from him.
He took a mouthful of the coffee she gave him. ‘This is good. Thanks.’
‘My pleasure.’
‘Let’s make that list. Do you have a laptop?’
She fetched it and placed it on the kitchen table between them. He scooped her onto his lap and wrapped his arms round her waist. ‘Now we can both see the screen,’ he said.
‘We could both see it perfectly well from where we were sitting,’ she pointed out.
‘Yes, but this way is more comfortable.’ He kissed the curve of her neck.
He was right; it felt good to be held close to him like this. Not that she was going to tell him. She didn’t want him thinking that all he had to do was whistle and she’d sit up and beg.
Between them, and with the help of a few websites, they came up with a mixture of the famous sights and some quirky, out-of-the-way places to visit.
‘Enough for now. It’s a nice evening. Let’s go for that walk by the river,’ he said.
The sky was streaked with pink feathery clouds as they wandered hand in hand along the path by the Thames.
‘Since I’m being your personal tour guide, I should tell you that that’s the Royal Naval College,’ she said, pointing out the complex of beautiful white buildings and the twin grey domes with their gold clocks and weather vanes. ‘It was designed by Christopher Wren.’
‘Like St Paul’s. Which we need to add to our list,’ he said. ‘It’s gorgeous.’
They carried on down the Thames Path until they reached a waterfront pub. ‘I sometimes stop here for a drink with Ju,’ Ella said. ‘Apparently Dickens used to drink here. And the food’s OK, too, if you fancy something to eat?’
‘Sure.’ They had a drink on one of the wrought-iron balconies, then headed back inside when their food was ready; the waiter had found them a table overlooking the Thames.
When they came back out, the sky was midnight blue, fading almost to white and then deep orange at the horizon, and the buildings of London were all lit up. ‘That’s the Millennium Dome over there,’ she said, pointing out the white dome with its yellow, blue and red spikes. ‘It always reminds me of a birthday cake with candles on it.’
‘London’s beautiful by night,’ Rico said. He leaned down to kiss her. ‘And so are you.’
‘Thank you.’ It wasn’t just the words that touched Ella. Rico made her feel beautiful in the way he touched her, the way he listened to her. And he really had seemed interested in her job, not just as if he were being polite.
They walked hand in hand back to her flat.
‘Do you want to come in for coffee?’ she asked, unlocking the door.
‘Not coffee,’ he said, and dipped his head to kiss her.
By the time he broke the kiss, Ella was shaking with need. She made no protest when Rico scooped her up, pulled the door closed behind him, and carried her up the stairs to her bed. She wanted this every bit as much as he did, matching him touch for touch and kiss for kiss. And it shocked her how quickly he could make her climax. She’d never, ever experienced that kind of intensity before.
When he came back from the bathroom fully dressed, she blinked in surprise. Wasn’t he going to stay?
‘Not a good idea,’ he said softly, as if her thoughts had been written all over her face.
‘Will I see you tomorrow?’ she asked, hating herself for sounding needy but wanting to know the answer.
‘No. I’m up to my eyes. But I’ll call you. And I’ll see you on Saturday.’
‘Sure.’ Acquaintances with benefits. That was what they’d agreed. And she’d be a fool to want more. ‘I’ll see you later.’
Although Ella was busy on Friday, she was surprised to discover that she missed not seeing Rico, and the highlight
