She realised she hadn’t told him that she was staying on after Ursula went back. ‘Oh, but—’ she began. Then she felt her phone buzz again from within her bag, nestled in her lap. She picked it up. ‘Rude of me to check this out but it’s probably Ursula because I keep forgetting to text her.’ She’d been too irked with Brendon’s message last time she’d had her phone in her hand.

This time it was Ursula. OK? x

She hurriedly typed back: Fine, thanks. Oops, forgot to text. x ‘Sorry,’ she said to Piero.

He waved her apology aside. ‘I understand.’ He didn’t add, as Brendon would have, ‘Women need to keep in touch with each other to be safe,’ which, obviously, women knew without him pointing it out. Instead, he quirked an eyebrow. ‘I’m just glad it’s not a boyfriend.’

The half-question, half-statement hit the right note with her too. He wasn’t accusing her of anything but it was a gentle hint that his personal code was to stay away from someone committed elsewhere. ‘My ex-boyfriend texted earlier,’ she admitted honestly. ‘We split in March. He got drunk at a party and I walked in on him with another woman.’

‘That must have been horrible.’ His voice was deep and sympathetic.

‘It hurt,’ she admitted. ‘He didn’t even know the woman’s name. He’s apologised a hundred times and I know he considers himself a good man who made a bad mistake, but I can’t forgive him and he doesn’t like that.’ She didn’t share with him that Brendon had the audacity to instruct her not to have sex with whomever she was seeing tonight. Piero had stopped stargazing in favour of gazing at her and her skin was tingling.

He angled his body towards her and the weight of his gaze felt still heavier. One of his hands drifted from hers to stroke her forearm on its soft underside. Huskily he said, ‘I’m sorry you were hurt but I’m not sorry you’re not seeing anyone. I’ve never wanted to kiss a woman more than I want to kiss you at this moment.’ He waited, not crowding her, giving her the option to shut him down.