Happy Mother's Day!

‘I wonder if I’ll ever be able to do a convincing sophisticated?’

‘If by sophisticated you mean artificial, I sincerely hope not.’ She leaned forward and planted her elbows on the table that was between them. ‘I suppose I mean elegant.’

‘Elegance is good, but then so is spontaneity and enthusiasm.’ She levelled a finger at her chest. ‘Me?’ ‘Definitely you.’

‘I’d prefer to look like Audrey Hepburn.’ Francesco laughed.

‘It probably makes me very shallow, but having sampled it I’ve decided this is the only way to travel,’ she confessed guiltily.

‘Have I said … you look very beautiful today?’

She slid a not quite steady hand down the bodice of her sleeveless dress. The deceptively modest rounded neckline was cut low enough to reveal the upper curves of her breasts, which was probably why it had sat in her wardrobe unworn. The biascut skirt of soft voile fitted nicely over her small bump and flared around her calves clinging to her legs as she moved.

The duck-blue colour did good things for her eyes and made her skin look translucently pale. Against the bare skin of her shoulders her hair stood out like a flame. The effect was dramatic and feminine.

‘It isn’t what I would have chosen,’ she admitted.

But she hadn’t chosen it, Francesco had. Considering the things that were packed in her case, she wondered if he had even looked at the list she had given him!

Wearing this dress was like hanging a sign around her neck saying ‘I’m available,’ with a subheading of ‘Take me please!’

‘You are inclined to hide your light, cara. What do they say? If you have it, flaunt it?’

‘I just don’t think that it is necessary to wave it in their faces and jump up and down saying look at me, as well.’

At that moment the young attendant, casually dressed, like the rest of the crew, in jeans and a shirt, made her fortuitous arrival.

Erin declined food but said she would love a cup of tea. Francesco overruled her with a display of high-handedness that was typical of him and said she would have something light, scrambled egg with a little smoked salmon perhaps?

Despite Erin’s insistence that she couldn’t eat a thing, the light dish was actually so delicious she polished off the lot and had a second cup of tea.

They were half an hour into their journey, and Francesco, who had been to talk to the pilot, had again taken the seat opposite her when she finally mentioned the previous night.

‘At the risk of breaking the mood, about last night …’ Erin skimmed a slightly nervous look at him through the filigree mesh of her lashes.

‘You discovered I have no liking for cocoa.’

‘I didn’t want you to go.’

It was an admission a short time ago she would not have made, but some time over the past days her defences had lowered. It was about trust. Without even realising what was happening she had started to trust him … trust her own judgement. Startled by this discovery, she felt her throat thicken with emotional tears.

Francesco, who had stilled at the husky admission, released a long sibilant sigh. ‘I didn’t particularly want to go myself.’

Her startled eyes flew to his. ‘You didn’t?’

He shook his head. ‘But you were exhausted and—’

‘I don’t like falling asleep. Since the accident I have been having these nightmares … I wake up convinced that the baby has died.’

Francesco gave a horrified exclamation in Italian. Out of his seat in a heartbeat, he dropped on his knees beside her seat and took her small hands between his. ‘Your hands are cold,’ he said, drawing them to his mouth and kissing each palm before enfolding them once more in his warm strong grip. ‘Why didn’t you say something about the nightmares?’ he reproached thickly.

Shoulders hunched, she gave a jerky little shrug. ‘I was being stupid, I know that. It was just a dream … the same one each time.’ She swallowed. ‘About the baby, and I know it’s stupid because even you can’t do much about dreams, but if I’d known you were there I wouldn’t have felt so afraid of falling asleep. I suppose I feel safe with you around.’

Francesco sucked in a deep breath; the strong angles of his lean face seemed carved of stone as he stared at her.

Lost in his eyes, Erin hardly noticed that the silence between them had stretched into minutes.

When he did speak Francesco’s accent was perceptibly thicker than normal. ‘You don’t have to be afraid of falling asleep again because I will be there.’ With a slow smile that made her stomach flip, he leaned across and cupped her