He could have repeated he’d like being with her but she was obviously wary of him and he was still coming to terms with his own hankering to be in her company. He opted to be truthful without coming on strong. ‘I like England. Haven’t been for ages. It would be interesting to be your companion on your quest.’

She snorted. ‘To suggest going to England with me you’ve obviously drunk too much.’ She polished off her beer and made to rise.

He protested, startled. ‘I’m not drunk. This is only my fourth bottle – about two pints in a British pub.’ He sat forward but made sure not to crowd her. ‘I haven’t drunk too much,’ he said emphatically. His suggestion to go with her had been off the cuff but now it was growing on him. ‘I could fly tomorrow and stay at least until Monday. But only if you want.’

She stared at him, her bare arms still tensed as if ready to propel her to her feet. ‘Sorry,’ she said eventually, relaxing back into her seat. ‘For an instant I just thought of Brendon saying men will say anything when drunk.’ She smiled apologetically.

He thought about the man she’d left behind in England, someone who’d been stupid enough to lose her. Piero had half-forgotten about the unknown man who’d loved Zia but now he found he didn’t much care for her quoting his words. ‘Are you still in contact with him? Will you see him in England?’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘He’s big friends with Ursula’s husband so I suppose we’ll always see each other.’

There was ‘seeing’ someone and then there was ‘seeing’ someone. Piero suddenly wished she’d accept his offer to go to England with her. But then she rose to leave and he rose too, reaching out to trail his fingers down her arms, wanting to delay her, to get closer to how they’d been before. ‘I’m not drunk. I only want your company.’

She looked up at him thoughtfully but didn’t yank herself away.

Slowly, giving her plenty of opportunity to withdraw, he slid his arms about her. She continued to study him, her eyes catching the last of the light, and he dipped his head and brushed her lips with his. A long moment. He held his breath as if something powerful and valuable hung in the balance. Then she pressed a tiny kiss to his mouth in return. He opened up to her, kissing her deep and long, and she sank against him, her softly searching lips making his spine tingle. It went on. And on.

Finally, she withdrew just an inch, breathing quickly. ‘Maybe,’ she began. But then something must have caught her attention. Her head turned and her gaze fixed. She turned to wood in his arms.