The Italian's Love-Child

Instinct could be a very dangerous thing.

And besides, hadn’t just the sound of his voice sent her heart racing into overdrive?

‘Eve?’

‘Hello, Luca.’

So cool, he thought admiringly. She had been on his mind a lot. She knew his number, both at home and at the office and he had given her his mobile—but she had not contacted him, nor sent him a text message, which women invariably did.

In a way it had been a kind of test to see if she needed him, and now that she had proved she did not, he wanted to see her.

‘How are you?’

‘Oh, you know. Busy. What about you?’

‘I’ve been to Amalfi.’

‘That’s on the coast, isn’t it?’

‘Indeed it is. It’s where I keep my boat.’

‘And is it very beautiful?’

‘What, the boat or the coast?’

Eve laughed. Damn him! Laughter could be just so-o-o seductive! ‘Both.’

‘Both are indeed very beautiful, just like you.’ He paused. ‘I’ve missed you.’

Not so much you couldn’t pick the phone up, she thought, but the remark pleased her. ‘Good,’ she answered evenly. ‘It’s always nice to be missed.’

‘And have you missed me, too?’

‘Stop fishing for compliments!’

He laughed. ‘So when am I going to see you?’

‘That depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On whether we have corresponding free dates in our diaries.’

Even cooler! ‘You mean you wouldn’t cancel something if it meant seeing your Italian lover?’ he murmured.

Oh, the arrogance! ‘Certainly not,’ said Eve. ‘Would you?’

Curiously enough, he thought about jettisoning his proposed trip to the States, but for no more than a moment.

‘Probably not,’ he agreed, and then paused. ‘So when?’

‘Suggest some dates and I’ll see if I’m free.’

‘I have to go to New York next weekend—how about the weekend after that?’

‘Okay,’ she agreed. ‘Where? In London?’

‘Why don’t you fly out to Rome?’ he suggested casually.