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СКАЧАТЬ to your dreams.’

      Dream of me.

      ‘Goodnight, Allegra.’

      Wordlessly she nodded, watched him open the door and disappear into the drizzle. In the shattered silence of the hallway she let out a choked gasp, a half-laugh, her mind and heart seething with both confusion and unfulfilled desire.

      She touched her fingers to her lips as if she could still feel him there, his sure possession, and thought numbly that the past was not forgotten.

      As his car pulled away from the kerb, Stefano could still see Allegra in the hallway. She sagged against the wall, one hand touching her lips, and he smiled—smiled with a hard satisfaction that settled in him, through him, with savage pleasure.

      She wanted him. Just as before. Perhaps, he thought musingly, more.

      She wanted him, even though she didn’t want to, even though she denied it. Denied it to him as well as to herself.

      And yet that kiss, wonderful as it was, had been a mistake. He couldn’t afford to tangle with Allegra, for Lucio’s sake as well as his own.

      Wouldn’t.

      He’d been down that road once before, knew where it ended, and it was nowhere he wanted to be.

      He leaned his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. He’d kissed Allegra because he’d wanted to; he’d wanted to feel her lips under his, her body against his. He’d wanted to discover if the reality lived up to his dreams.

      And did it? he wondered with a cynical smile.

      Perhaps, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to kiss Allegra again.

      She was Lucio’s therapist, nothing more.

      Never, he told himself savagely, anything more again.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON FOUND Allegra in her office, Lucio’s case notes scattered on her desk. She gazed unseeingly out of the window at a dank, grey London sky and waited for Stefano’s call.

      She’d been quite determined, after that shocking, shattering kiss, not to take Lucio’s case. The personal conflict was obvious and overwhelming.

      There were plenty of other art therapists, she told herself. Ones who were more experienced as well as not personally involved.

      Yet was she personally involved? Her mind staunchly said no, but the rest of her, her body still remembering that tide of desire, spoke differently.

      Yet she wanted to take the case, she realized. She was professional enough to separate any feelings for Stefano from her work with Lucio, and she wanted to help this boy whose case notes spoke of a tragic, silent eight months. She wanted to help him for his own sake as well as for her own.

      The idea of working intensively with one child for a prolonged period of time was inspiring, exciting. No more forty-five minute slots while parents waited, desperate for her to have made a difference.

      No endless slog of case after case without hope or happiness.

      She wanted this change, this chance.

      Even if Stefano was involved.

      Especially if Stefano was involved.

      For while this could be an opportunity with Lucio, it was also an opportunity to put the past to rest. Redeem it, even.

      And show Stefano, once and for all, that she was not that girl any more, the girl he thought he knew, the girl who’d loved him.

      The phone trilled, startling Allegra out of her thoughts. She picked it up.

      ‘Hello?’

      ‘Allegra.’ It sounded like a caress somehow, even though his voice was brisk. ‘You’ve seen Lucio’s case notes?’

      ‘Yes.’

      There was a moment of pulsing silence and Allegra realized how hard her heart was beating.

      ‘And?’

      ‘Yes, I’ll take the case, Stefano. Although …’

      ‘You have some reservations.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Because of our kiss the other night.’ He spoke steadily, without apology or concern, yet Allegra found her hand gripping the telephone receiver far too tightly.

      ‘Yes,’ she said after a moment of tense silence. ‘Stefano, as we’ve said, I’m coming to Abruzzo in a professional capacity. There can’t be—’

      ‘There won’t.’

      She blinked, swallowed, strangely, stupidly stung that he sounded so certain. ‘Even so,’ she forced herself to continue, ‘I don’t want there to be any … tension … because of what has happened between us. It would be best for Lucio, as well as for ourselves, if we could be friends.’

      ‘Then we will be.’

      Allegra gave a shaky laugh, for she knew it wasn’t that simple, and surely Stefano knew it as well. You couldn’t will yourself into being friends; you couldn’t will feelings or memories to disappear.

      You could just put them in a box.

      ‘You never kissed me like that when we were engaged,’ she blurted, and then wished she hadn’t. Stefano was silent although she could hear him breathing.

      ‘You were nineteen,’ he finally said, his voice flat. ‘A child, as you pointed out to me. I was taking my time with you, Allegra.’ He paused, she waited. ‘You weren’t, however, a child last night. But have no fear. It’s an incident that will not be repeated.’

      He spoke so firmly and finally that Allegra was left with nothing left to do but accept.

      ‘All right, then,’ she finally said. She knew there was no point trawling old ground over the telephone.

      ‘I’m flying to London next Friday,’ Stefano said. ‘That should give you time to hand off any cases, and you can return to Rome with me. From there we’ll go to Abruzzo.’

      ‘All right.’

      ‘Email me with anything you’ll need for your work,’ Stefano said, ‘and I’ll arrange for it to be there when you arrive.’

      ‘Fine …’

      He gave her his email address and then, when the only thing left to say was goodbye, he surprised her.

      ‘Allegra,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘You’re welcome,’ Allegra said. ‘I’m looking forward to it, Stefano. I want to help Lucio.’

      ‘So do I.’

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