Earlier, she’d almost talked herself into not turning up tonight and staying away for everyone’s sake, but she’d already come all this way to Italy, back to the scene of the crime, as it were. There would be no avoiding it: the shit was about to hit the fan.

As she waited, biding her time, Annie occupied herself with drink after drink. Several guys tried to talk to her but she was having none of it. Men were her problem in the first place, always had been.

If her father hadn’t died then she could have had a normal, happy family life. If it hadn’t been for her stupid accountant, she wouldn’t now be on the verge of bankruptcy. If it hadn’t been for her addiction to men who never had any intention of offering her their hearts, she wouldn’t be alone now.

Charlie was the only man in her life who was any good for her, and the only one she needed.

So maybe she should forget about all this and just go now, back to the hotel and the son who needed her?

She’d done her duty, as such, by flying over here to support her old friend, and it wasn’t as though Kim would even notice her absence. Despite a plethora of last-minute hitches, her big night was turning out to be a glorious success and everything looked to be going like clockwork.

Annie shouldn’t even be thinking about trying to upset the apple cart and ruining it all.

She’d made her decision, and had started wobbling back up toward the house, fully intending to leave, when she saw him, standing idly beneath an olive tree and laughing with someone else, not a care in the world.

Annie sorely wanted to smash the glass in her hand directly into his face, but it wasn’t hers and she’d probably have to pay for it, and she couldn’t afford that.

“Can’t afford anything,” she muttered bitterly.

She made her way up the stone steps, the alcohol having taken its hold more than she expected.

She stumbled a little on the top step, going down on her ankle, and she was sure she was about to fall flat on her face, when out of nowhere a pair of strong arms caught and steadied her.

“It’s grand, I’m fine,” she slurred as she grabbed on to the front of her savior’s shirt and looked up at the sympathetic and all-too-familiar face.

She blinked rapidly.

“It has been a long time, Annie,” the Italian said by way of greeting.

“Not long enough, Luca.” She pushed away from him, but only managed to unbalance herself again in the process.

Once more his strong arms wound around Annie to keep her steady. “I think I better help you,” he suggested.

“I don’t want your help,” she spat. “Get your hands off me.”