The Italian Next Door. Anna Cleary

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СКАЧАТЬ the woman was unconcerned about sides of roads, Pia ignored the dark eyes burning through the back of her neck. ‘Oh, small. Small will be fine. Grazie.’

      Her optimism rose. With a bit of luck she could reach her safe haven well before nightfall. Things were starting to look promising, though she had to admit to a few qualms about actually taking the car on the roads once she had it in her possession. Lucky she’d had the forethought to obtain an international licence before she left home just in case of emergencies like this, though her mother had pleaded with her never to use it.

      But she was no longer the bundle of nerves she’d been a few months ago when she’d had the post-traumatic stress disorder. If there was one affliction Pia Renfern was now officially free and clear of, it was PTSD in all its insidious, debilitating, creepy manifestations. She was over it, and courage was now her middle name. Just let anyone try to contradict her.

      Anyway, driving on the other side of the road couldn’t be so hard. Other people did it. Lauren, her cousin, drove all over Italy without mishap. Pia was certain she could manage it if she avoided the super highways and used less popular byways.

      Her driving record was pretty good, apart from a few minor parking violations. There was that time she’d had her licence suspended for frequent and incorrigible speeding, but that was ages ago when she’d just passed her test. Lucky the international licence showed nothing of her reckless past.

      The woman looked up. ‘Where are you wishing to return the car, Miss Renfern?’

      ‘Do you have an office in Positano?’

      ‘No, signorina.’ The woman’s face grew serious. ‘Positano has very few spaces for cars. You may perhaps drive to our office in Sorrento then take the bus. Are you familiar with the area?’

      ‘Not exactly. Won’t the car have sat nav?’

      There was a sudden movement behind her. ‘Scusi, signorina.’

      Pia glanced around in surprise. ‘Sorry?’

      The man stepped forward, his dark eyes glinting with an intent light. Pia’s throat dried and a fluttery sensation inhabited her chest. He really was handsome, with cheekbones and shadow on his firm, chiselled jaw. His eyebrows bristled with purpose. They were the most stirring she’d ever laid eyes on, while the casual elegance of his black leather jacket, white open-necked shirt and jeans did nothing to diminish the pleasing athleticism of his lean, powerful build.

      He was at least a millimetre too close, bearing down on her and sending all her alarm sensors into total chaos. She took a step backwards from those compelling dark eyes and found herself pressed up against the counter.

      ‘I couldn’t help overhearing, signorina. You are travelling to Positano?’ His voice was deep and appealingly accented, despite the seriousness of his tone.

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Are you aware that the roads near Sorrento are very narrow and built on the edges of cliffs?’ His dark eyes scanned her face like a searchlight.

      ‘Well, yes, I suppose. So …?’ She could feel her resistance rising to this intrusion. So the roads were narrow. Was he suggesting she wasn’t capable? She felt her neck grow hot, conscious of the car-hire woman listening to every word with close attention. A stillness seemed to fall on the neighbouring booths, as if their staff, their customers, the entire airport had all paused to listen.

      In an effort to dampen the guy’s damned cheek, Pia zapped him with a cool smile. ‘What’s your point, signore?’

      ‘The traffic along those roads is heavy and dangerous. Even very experienced drivers from the locality find it so.’ His intelligent dark eyes were serious, his hands eloquent. ‘Permit me, signorina, but I notice that you speak like an Australian. Have you ever before driven a car in a right-hand-traffic situation?’

      Guilt crept up Pia’s spine. Her entire body warmed, then blazed with it as she felt the car-hire woman’s eyes drill a hole through the side of her head. If only she could have lied, but she’d never been good at it, not even to save her life.

      ‘Well, no, maybe I haven’t,’ she blustered. ‘But I know I can, and I’m not sure what it has to do with you.’

      He shook his head in stern disapproval. ‘This is not good. You mustn’t try to drive on these roads, especially with the traffic as it will be today with the trains not running. This is what I think would be best. I will—’

      Before he could go on with his astonishing impertinence, the car-hire woman interjected. ‘Scusi, Miss Renfern. Our apologies, but Da Vinci Auto find we do not have a car for you today.’

      ‘What?’ Pia spun about and stared at the woman in outrage. ‘Oh, but that’s so unfair. You’ve seen my licence … I’m a qualified driver. This man is a stranger. Don’t listen to him. What is he to do with me?’

      ‘I am sorry, signorina.’ Briskly, the woman handed back Pia’s credentials. ‘Perhaps another car company will help you. However, Da Vinci Auto says no.’

      ‘But—’

      ‘No, and no and no.’ The woman folded her arms and sealed her lips with implacable firmness.

      Simmering, Pia replaced her documents and gathered her baggage, pausing to cast a glowering glance at the man before she moved off. ‘Thanks a lot, signore.’ She did her best to lace the word with purest strychnine.

      His eyes gleamed. ‘Prego. Your safety is important to every Italian.’

      She rarely argued with men these days, especially strangers, but some men needed to be argued with. ‘I would be much safer if I could hire a car.’

      Her indignation seemed to amuse the guy. He leaned back against the counter, allowing his thick black lashes to flicker down while his sensual gaze drifted over her with frank appreciation. ‘So, so soft … and yet so fierce.’ His lean hands demonstrated her softness in the air. She had little doubt it had more to do with her breasts than anything. ‘It is a pity,’ he continued with phoney sympathy, ‘but the signora here has made the decision, no doubt for her own reasons.’ He shrugged and spread his hands as if he were absolutely innocent in the matter.

      This distortion of reality was too much for Pia, confused as it was with messages from his hot smiling eyes, sexy mouth and tanned, elegant hands that were anything but innocent. Soft, was she?

      She said hotly, ‘She made the decision because you sowed seeds of doubt in her mind.’

      ‘You think?’ His gorgeous brows lifted quizzically. ‘She may have been influenced by some weird desire to save lives. But as it happens I’m driving to Positano. I might be able to fit you in. I’m guessing you won’t take too much room.’ His beautiful hands illustrated just how much room she might take, this time managing to encompass the shape of her hips with what felt to Pia almost like a tangible caress.

      She could imagine what he had in mind. He wanted to get her alone in a confined space and run those hard, lean hands all over her body.

      If only his voice didn’t seep into her veins like a dark intoxicant. At the same time there was that smile in his eyes inviting СКАЧАТЬ