The Italians: Rico, Antonio and Giovanni. Kate Hardy

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      They walked back past a bunch of teenagers on rollerblades negotiating a line of tiny, tiny cones. Ella was amazed at how they skated in and out without knocking any of them over, their feet crossing each other, and yet they didn’t trip or fall.

      The fascination must have shown on her face, because Rico said, ‘Dare you.’

      ‘Me? But I …’ She hadn’t been on roller skates for years, let alone rollerblades.

      ‘Dare you,’ he repeated.

      Well, these few days were all meant to be about having fun. ‘You’re on.’ It was hard enough to skate in a straight line at first, and she knew there was no way she’d be able to negotiate that double slalom of cones. But then the man in charge of the cones took pity on her and gave her a wider-spaced course.

      ‘Wow, I actually did it!’ she said at the other end.

      ‘You were magnificent,’ Rico said, kissing her.

      ‘And now it’s your turn.’

      ‘Mine?’ He looked surprised.

      ‘You challenged me. Now prove that you can do it.’

      The expression in his eyes grew heated. ‘What are the stakes?’

      She shrugged. ‘You tell me.’

      He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, ‘If I do it without knocking over a cone, you let me do whatever I want to you tonight. If I fail, I’m completely in your hands.’

      She shivered with pleasure. ‘That sounds good to me.’

      He licked his lower lip. ‘Right now, I’m not really sure whether it would be more fun to win or to lose.’

      ‘Do it properly,’ she told him. ‘I don’t like lying and game-playing.’

      ‘OK, Ella bellezza.’ He kissed her swiftly, then put on the rollerblades.

      She wasn’t surprised that he managed to skate the same course that she did with relative ease. The man in charge of the cones winked at her and set up a more demanding course with a double slalom.

      Rico spread his hands, grinned—and then showed off thoroughly. He was as graceful as a ballet dancer as he moved through the slalom course, his body all clean, flowing lines; Ella was aware of how many other women in the gathering crowd were giving him admiring looks.

      He almost knocked over the very last cone, which teetered but stayed where it was. He skated round to Ella, then swept into a deep bow before taking her hand, turning it over and kissing the throbbing pulse in her wrist. Desire skittered through her.

      ‘You’ve done that before, haven’t you?’ she asked, not wanting him to see how much of an effect he had on her.

      ‘Now and then. Though I’m a bit out of practice.’ He took off his skates and handed them back. ‘Come on. Let’s go and chill out.’

      They ended up by the lake, watching the fountain in the middle.

      ‘I can’t believe how blue the water is. It’s so pretty here,’ Ella said. ‘What are the trees?’

      ‘Lilacs.’

      ‘They’re not like English lilacs. They don’t smell the same, either. But they’re lovely. This is really special.’

      This was where Rico always came to chill out, because it was one of the few places in Rome where you could enjoy nothing but the sound of birdsong; but the park had become almost background scenery to him over the years. The delight in Ella’s face as she looked around made him see the place anew. She was right. It was special.

      They lay in the dappled shade under the lilacs, holding hands and looking up at the sky. He leaned over and stole a kiss. ‘So how come you’re in Rome on your own?’

      She shrugged. ‘It was just the way it worked out. Now was the only time I could go, and my best friend’s a teacher—she can’t take time off in term time.’

      ‘And you have no family who could go with you?’

      For a moment, she looked sad. ‘No.’

      ‘And your ex?’ That was still bugging him. The man who’d made her doubt herself so much. ‘Is that why you were booked in the honeymoon suite? And he let you down?’

      ‘No. I planned the trip after we split up.’ Her mouth tightened. ‘And he’s staying permanently ex, no matter how many flowers or grovelling letters he sends me.’

      Flowers and grovelling letters? ‘Maybe he realised he’d made a mistake, breaking up with you,’ Rico said.

      ‘Actually, he didn’t dump me. I was the one who walked out,’ she told him, lifting her chin. ‘As for making a mistake … that’s a charitable conclusion.’

      ‘One you obviously don’t share.’

      She gave a huff of mirthless laughter. ‘He probably heard on the grapevine that I won the lottery. Not millions and millions, but a decent amount—enough to give me six months’ sabbatical from my job.’

      Hmm. So was this the reason why she said that money didn’t matter? Rico propped himself up on one elbow so he could look at her properly. ‘And you’re using the money to travel?’

      ‘A little bit. Actually, I only booked the honeymoon suite because it overlooks the Colosseum. I know it’s pathetic, but …’

      He pressed a finger to her lips. ‘No, it’s not pathetic at all. If you wanted a room with a specific view, it doesn’t matter what the room’s called. Only the view counts.’ He smiled at her. ‘So where else are you planning to visit?’

      ‘Just Rome, for now. It’s the one place I’ve always wanted to see.’

      ‘Is there anywhere else on your travel wish list?’

      She shrugged. ‘Vienna, but I don’t have time right now. When I get back to London, I’m going to be up to my eyes.’

      ‘Back in the job you described to me as “safe”?’ He stroked her face. ‘Maybe this money’s a chance for you to change your life, find a different job—something you really love doing.’

      ‘That’s exactly what I’m going to do,’ she said. ‘This six months’ sabbatical—I’m setting up my own business. If I can make a go of it, then I’ll resign properly and concentrate on my business. If I fail, then I still have a safe job to go back to.’

      She hadn’t let her win go to her head. And she was planning to change her career the sensible way, with a back-up plan. As an entrepreneur himself, Rico knew that meant there was a much better chance of her business succeeding. ‘So what’s your new business going to be?’

      ‘You won’t laugh?’

      Why on earth would she think he’d laugh at her? He frowned. ‘Of course not.’

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