Colette had to smile, despite the tartness of the lemon hitting her tongue and the alcohol almost making her retch.

Mama Elene was the quintessential Italian matriarch she’d read about, there in the flesh.

Already Italy was living up to everything she’d dreamed about—perhaps even surpassing it. Though she didn’t think she’d be consuming any more limoncello.

“Thank you. I’d love to.”

Chapter 15

Then

“Hello?” a timid voice called out, causing Annie to lift her sunglasses and look up from her magazine.

As far as she knew she was the only one at the villa this afternoon. The French students had left around midday, and the German couple had said something about going off for the day to visit the ruins of Pompeii.

They had very politely asked Annie to join them, but wandering around in the heat looking at ancient dead people petrified in molten lava wasn’t her kind of holiday.

After last night’s exploits, she’d decided to just have a quiet day lazing by the pool. While Valentina had mentioned that there’d be more guests arriving, Annie certainly wasn’t anticipating having to do a meet and greet.

Standing up above the terrace now was the mousiest-looking girl she’d ever seen. She had luminous red hair tied up in bun, with plastic-framed glasses on her face, and pale freckled skin.

Her clothes were reminiscent of the kind of hand-me-downs Annie would’ve worn in her teens, but at least her figure wasn’t too bad. She had that and her flaming hair going for her—even if there was little else.

“I’m Annie. Are you staying here?” she asked, jumping up from the sun lounger. Poor thing looked harmless and a bit terrified, to be honest, and instinctively Annie’s heart went out to her.

“Colette,” the other woman answered in a very definite English accent. “And yes, I think I have a reservation here, but I’m not sure where I’m supposed to check in exactly.”

“Ah, things are pretty casual round here,” Annie commented airily. “There’s no check-in as such, but someone will be coming round later. You the one from England then?”

“Yes.”

“Right. I didn’t think you looked very American. The manager, landlady—or whatever they call them in Italy—told me that there were two other girls arriving this week,” Annie supplied, throwing on a sarong.

She put on her flip-flops, hopped up the steps and led the new girl through the courtyard and into the house.

“Oh. So how do I get my room key?” Colette was still holding on to her humongous suitcase for dear life as they went through to the kitchen. She looked to be a couple of years younger than her and so timid, Annie thought, even in the way she moved.