She propped her chin on her palm. ‘Today I worked out how much longer I could stay here and it’s September the eighteenth.’

He swallowed, stomach diving in dismay. This last couple of weeks he’d almost been able to forget that Zia couldn’t remain in Italy indefinitely. ‘As soon as that?’

Slowly, she nodded. ‘You know I decided not to come out about who I am in case it rubbished things for Lucia and his wife and kids?’

‘A selfless stance I’m not sure everyone in your position would take,’ he commented drily.

‘It’s kind of unfortunate that I have a conscience about them,’ she agreed philosophically, if sadly. ‘You know the options. I could simply return to living in the UK. Or I could, as I quite want to, apply for the temporary permission to stay so that after two years I can apply to be permanent.’

Anticipation raised the hairs on his arms. ‘And …?’

She laid down her fork. ‘To properly consider the second option brings me back to my starting point – people with an Italian parent or grandparent have a much better chance of success.’ She took a long, slow breath, a new light creeping into her eyes. ‘But today I realised I was assuming a worst-case scenario … that if I approached Gerardo then it was inevitable others would be involved and hurt. But what if I could persuade Gerardo to acknowledge paternity to the necessary authorities and them alone? His family need never know.’

He stopped eating as the simplicity of the plan hit him. ‘I hadn’t thought of this either.’

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. ‘If I’ve been a secret till now, why not continue the same way? It would circumvent the Costa family trouble I’ve worried about.’ The smile dimmed. ‘It would be cynical to use him like that but if I’m correct that he’s worked out who I am, does that matter? Is there a downside? Is the idea crazy? As Ursula says, he hasn’t done anything else for me.’

He found himself grabbing the nearest of her hands. ‘It’s not crazy if it means you’d stay here.’

The smile widened shyly. ‘Well … I came here with the intention of discovering whether that was possible—’

He took the other hand too. ‘Zia, it could really work.’

She gazed at their clasped hands, frowning uncertainly. ‘Having the actual conversation would be tricky. I’d need to think about the best approach.’

Jumping up, he rounded the table, pulling her to her feet and into his arms, warm and soft against him. ‘Do it, Zia!’

She nestled into him, her voice trembling. ‘Thanks for being so enthusiastic. But I have to be honest … it’s scary to think about asking him.’

‘Do it,’ he repeated more softly. ‘I’ll help if you need it. I’ll do whatever it takes.’

Chapter Twenty-One