Her enjoyment pleased him. ‘I agree. I shouldn’t admit this either but I’ll drink Orvieto Classico with anything. It consists of a minimum of forty per cent Grechetto grapes and twenty to forty Procanico – that’s what we call the Trebbiano grape in Umbria. The remainder’s Malvasia Bianca. The Sangiovese’s a single varietal wine so contains only Sangiovese grapes.’ He laughed. ‘Now I sound like what I am – a wine salesman.’

‘Sold,’ she declared. ‘I’m already wondering how much I can fit in my car to take home.’

‘I’ll bring you some from the vineyard.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Time for the food. You sit there and—’

But she was already jumping up. ‘I’ll come with you. I’m not great at doing nothing.’

So, they ended up side by side in the kitchen, taking herbed chicken wings, beef cannelloni, cheese tartlets, and stuffed mushrooms from the oven and salad from the fridge.

When they began ferrying food upstairs he switched on the lights for the other end of the terrace and was satisfied when she admired the olive wood table set with shining glasses and gleaming cutlery. ‘Beautiful.’ She ran her hand over the wood. ‘Olive wood has such a gorgeous, satin feel.’

‘It has.’ He had to swallow. Her nails were freshly painted the same red as her toenails, not talons but pretty ovals tipping each elegant finger. He imagined them gliding over his skin.

She studied the table’s ornately turned legs. ‘Did you make this?’

He felt suddenly bashful. ‘I’m not a furniture maker but yes, I did.’ He left her to carry the remainder of the wine to the table while he brought the last of the food upstairs. Taking his seat opposite her he could no longer brush shoulders as they had on the sofa but he had a better view of her. He said, ‘Using the terrace lights at least keeps the moths above our heads. Otherwise, I would have gone for romantic candlelight so we’d have a better view of the stars.’

‘Romantic?’ She paused in helping herself to small amounts of everything on the table, clearly not a woman to nibble on a lettuce leaf.

He met her gaze. ‘Of course, romantic. I invited you because I’m attracted to you.’ He’d always been transparent with women. Sneaking up for a sudden pounce wasn’t his style.

She popped a piece of cheese tartlet into her mouth, chewed and swallowed, then sent him a faux-frown. ‘You said you invited me because it’s your birthday.’