‘My sister is severely allergic to bee stings,’ Katy told him. ‘She carries adrenaline herself but I’ve got so used to worrying about her whenever we’re out together in summer that I’ve just got used to carrying a stock of drugs. Alex does the same.’

Jago shook his head. ‘Unbelievable.’ He surveyed her with amusement and no small degree of admiration. ‘I thought you were no good at immediate care?’

A warm feeling spread inside her and she flushed, pleased by his praise. ‘I just happened to know about anaphylactic shock because of Libby.’

‘Well, you undoubtedly saved that girl’s life,’ he said softly. ‘I certainly don’t carry adrenaline in my boot, although from now on I think I might do just that.’

Two hours from Seville, Jago turned down a dusty track and Katy saw a beautiful traditional Spanish farmhouse.

‘Oh—it’s beautiful.’ The dusty bricks were a warm shade of apricot and the dwelling was surrounded by a terrace shaded by vines.

The front door opened and she recognised Jago’s mother Maria, the woman who had been her parents’ housekeeper for several years.

She stood back while they greeted each other, wondering what Maria would make of her presence.

Would she be surprised to see her?

Releasing Jago and wiping her eyes, Maria caught sight of her and her face brightened. She said something to Jago in Spanish and then stepped forward and embraced Katy affectionately.

‘As beautiful as ever.’ She reached up a hand and touched Katy’s cheek. ‘You are so very fair.’ She frowned at her son. ‘You must be careful not to let her burn in this hot sun.’

Touched by the warmth of her welcome, Katy followed them inside the spacious farmhouse, through a traditional kitchen and out onto a large terrace shaded by vines. Sunlight dappled the long wooden table, which was laid for dinner.

A couple were seated at the table and Jago greeted them and introduced them to Katy.

‘Juan and Rosita Ruiz.’ He took Katy’s hand and pulled her forward. ‘My aunt and uncle. I’m afraid they speak very little English.’

‘Hola.’ Katy returned their greeting shyly, using her very limited Spanish, and soon she was seated at the table, enjoying the warmth of their hospitality.

They ate plump olives and lamb roasted in herbs, and drank the warmest, most delicious red wine she’d ever tasted, and soon she found herself relaxing.

Totally at home in her new surroundings, Katy found herself sneaking looks at Jago, marvelling at the change in him.

He lounged in his chair, long legs stretched out in front of him, more relaxed than she’d ever seen him, switching smoothly between Spanish and English so that he could communicate with everyone.

By the time they’d finished dinner it was late and Katy fell into bed exhausted.

She awoke the next morning and found Jago already in the kitchen, drinking coffee.

‘Good morning.’ He rose to his feet and gestured to the food on the table. ‘Toasted bread, home-made jam and café con leche—milky coffee. Help yourself.’