She’d listened to her friends and their words of caution hadn’t been lost on her.

Kim advised her to let instinct guide her decision-making. If Luca wanted a relationship beyond Colette’s time here then he’d make that clear. Then it would be up to her to decide if it was what she wanted. Kim also reminded her that there was an ocean between them and those weren’t easy hurdles to overcome.

And then there was Ed. In his last text he had straight out asked to meet up soon for coffee.

There’s this great little café I found, very traditional, brimming with locals—I think you’d love it.

Colette was intrigued. Ed was so charming and funny that time in Sorrento—the opportunity to chat some more with him would be lovely. She was sure whatever this place he was talking about would be right up her street, too, but to be fair while friendship was all he seemed to want, it still felt wrong to take him up on the offer.

I appreciate the invite, thank you—but I’m kind of already seeing someone...

He responded immediately:

Oh, I’m so sorry, I can see how the invite might have come across. I wouldn’t want to step on any toes. I meant merely as friends. And compatriots, of course. :)

I’m a bit busy this week, she hedged, unsurely. I’ll let you know...

Colette wished she had Kim’s wisdom and Annie’s street-smarts, especially when it came to matters of the heart. The problem was that her heart was her guiding force.

She couldn’t deny that she was happy Luca had called to the villa today, asking her to come for a drive.

He hadn’t abandoned her, lost interest in her because he’d got what he wanted, or whatever Annie had been trying to suggest.

He’d also told her to bring a swimming costume, and she wondered if they were going out on the boat again. The thought of a repeat of that wonderful night under the stars filled her with an all-too-familiar desire, and she knew that no matter what—if any—intentions Luca might have beyond this trip, she was already caught in whatever web he had already spun around her.

When Luca’s car eventually arrived at Fiordo di Furore, a tiny beach situated low beneath an ornate arched bridge, Colette had at first been a little disappointed that it wasn’t the boat. But all too soon she became completely taken by the picturesque spot and aquamarine waters of the fiord.

“Is this it?” she asked from the bridge, steeling herself for the inevitable trek down another of Italy’s endless stepped walkways to access the beach.

He chuckled. “It’s one of the best places to swim. And also not so many tourists are willing to make the thousand-step descent.”

Thousand steps? Colette’s eyes widened.