“Like I said, Valentina will be around this evening. In the meantime, just relax and rest up after the journey. It’s hot out there today. Did you have something to eat? Are you here for long?”

“Yes, three weeks. Just a break away from work, really.”

“Wow, you must have some job,” Annie chuckled, “if you can afford that much time off.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s a family business, a bakery in Brighton. My mother and sister arranged this trip for me as a gift,” Colette explained.

“So you’re here on your own?” Annie probed, suddenly conscious of the fact that she was the one asking all the questions. Hairdresser’s habit. But she was intrigued by the fact that she was a fellow lone traveler.

“Yes, it’s a bit of a dream of mine to come to Italy. I meant to after uni but it didn’t work out. But I know a bit of Italian, so...”

“Well, you’ll be handy to have around so. I haven’t a word. In fairness, I was lucky to get through school, let alone learn a foreign language,” she laughed. “I work as a hairdresser in Dublin.”

“Dublin, Ireland?” a third voice called out then, and Annie and Colette both turned to see a gorgeous blonde standing under the front door arch.

She was naturally tanned, model-thin, and looked as if she’d stepped straight out of the magazine Annie had been reading, with her expensive designer clothes, artfully tousled hair, designer bag on her arm and obligatory Louis Vuitton suitcases at her feet.

All this doe-eyed beauty yet unashamedly sensual, and with a confident air that made Annie feel threatened on sight.

“The American?” she asked rhetorically.

“Yeah, the American,” the other woman drawled. “Kimberley Weston. You guys can call me Kim,” she introduced herself as she glided into their midst, extending a hand to Colette and then Annie.

Colette greeted her eagerly, a look of undisguised wonderment on her face. Annie wasn’t so easily impressed, and she tried to restrain the naked envy crawling up her spine. Colette might not be a trust-fund baby, but this girl certainly was.

Annie had an innate issue with rich people. She wasn’t—obviously—and those who were had made her life hell every day for as long as she could remember. Especially in secondary school.

It was bad enough to be the adopted child of a lower working-class family with few lessons in etiquette, no friends and few prospects for improving your situation. The only reason Annie was even at that particular school was because her mother cleaned the parish priest’s house and everyone knew it. The mostly well-off pupils took particular delight in tormenting her because of it.

Kim looked exactly like one of those girls who took pleasure in Annie’s pain.