Annie was right: she had been spending a lot of time lazing around the pool and gardens, trying to decide what to do when this trip was over.

Today she was in the mood for exploring, and while she’d asked the others if they wanted to come along, Annie had gone back to bed after her late-night exploits, and she suspected that Colette didn’t want to leave the villa in case Luca chose today to come and visit her.

Both had become so wrapped up in their love lives lately, and despite her joke about being left out, Kim truly had no interest in that; not at the moment, anyhow. Romance could be such a humbug, and her life was complicated enough without throwing a vacation romance into the mix. Though she would definitely welcome a charmer like Luca to wine and dine her a little, in order to take the strain off her rapidly depleting line of credit.

She sighed, resigned to the fact that if she wanted to stay here, or indeed anywhere else for much longer, she’d need to think about finding a job.

Thank goodness she’d decided to rough it and that the villa was cheap enough that she could stretch her stay to another few weeks at least.

After that, she’d either have to wing it or head home to her parents with her tail between her legs.

Given her most recent conversation with her mom—when Kim had come clean about her journey diversion—that was the worst possible option. Her parents knew by now, of course, that she hadn’t gone to England as planned, but they didn’t know where she actually was, and she felt it was unfair to have them worry unnecessarily.

Assuming they cared.

When she’d finally plucked up the courage to call, the phone in their house on the other side of the world rang for a long time, so long that Kim suspected there was no one home. Then, all too soon, her mother’s voice could be heard complaining about the hour of the night, and the inconsiderate nature of what Kim had done. No requests regarding her whereabouts or assurances about her safety or indeed any hint whatsoever that they might have been worried or afraid for their only child.

“Mom,” Kim had said firmly, “shut up.”

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening.

“I don’t need you anymore,” she continued, having by now practiced the words a hundred times over. “I don’t want you using me to impress your Park Avenue friends or persuade Dad’s condescending business associates. I don’t want you pulling my strings.”

“What are you talking about, Kimberley? You’re making no sense. Are you drunk?”