It wasn’t real. None of this was real.
Real life meant that now she lived and worked in Venice and Logan lived and worked in Florence.
The meeting at Tuscany was merely a blip. The next few weeks of working together would only be a continuation of that blip. She could almost feel the protective coating going around her heart. She had to be careful. She had to be sensible.
She lifted her head back from his, trying to ignore the warm feeling of his beating heart beneath her palm.
It was time to put all the safeguards back in place.
She gave him a rueful smile and stepped back, freeing herself from his grasp.
The movement jolted Logan. He straightened his back, watching her carefully. It was almost as if he knew what was coming next.
‘We don’t really have time to reminisce, Logan. I have work to do. You have work to do. The sooner we can verify the artist of the fresco, the sooner we can both move towards our goals.’
What were her goals? She’d always been clear about them in the past, but right now they were looking pretty muddy.
Silence hung in the air between them. It almost shimmered in the slowly brightening daylight.
She could almost hear him processing what she’d said.
He chose his words carefully as he stepped forward and gently touched her cheek. ‘You’re right, Lucia. It’s best we leave things as they are.’ He nodded his head. ‘We both need to focus on work.’
Something squeezed in her chest. For a few seconds she felt as if she couldn’t breathe.
Part of her wished he’d said no. Part of her wished he’d pull her back into his arms and kiss her all over again. Acknowledge this thing that shimmered in the air between them and refuse to walk away from it.
But that was all a fairy tale. This was real life. She could tell from the slight waver in his voice that he was saying what he thought he should. This was just as hard for him as it was for her.
If this was anyone else she might think they were toying with her. But Logan just wasn’t capable of that kind of thing. Not after what they’d shared.
This was for the best. It didn’t matter that little parts of her brain were screaming at her. Every female hormone she’d ever possessed was currently marching in a charge towards all parts of her body.
She blinked back the tears that were hovering behind her eyes. His fingers felt like butterfly wings on her skin. It was all she could do not to tilt her head towards his hand.
She bent down and picked up her papers, which were strewn on the floor, trying not to acknowledge her trembling hands.
His feet took a step backwards. She could sense him bending over her, probably reaching towards her, then he took a few further steps back. It was almost as if he forcing himself into a position of retreat.
She straightened up and fixed a false smile on her face. ‘Let’s get to work, Logan. Can you see if we can find some light?’ She pulled her camera from her bag. ‘The sooner we get these pictures, the sooner we can move forward.’
She tried not to wince at her choice of words.
But Logan’s expression was resolute. Guarded. She had no idea what was going on behind those green eyes.
He gave a brief nod. ‘Of course.’ And walked back towards the door to let in some light.
She turned back to the fresco.
Work. The only thing that was currently keeping her sane.
CHAPTER SIX
WORK WAS THE easy part. It didn’t take any time at all for Lucia to take the photos and to take the boat trip back to her office. The rest of Venice had woken up now, with the city becoming loud and colourful as their boat glided back through the water.
The Italian Heritage Board building was every bit as exuberant as Logan had expected it to be. The architecture was a welcome distraction, with some of the really exclusive Renaissance pieces of art housed in the building.
Lucia had uploaded the pictures to her computer and was running a comparison computer program that would take a few hours.
All they could do was wait.
And waiting was something Logan Cascini had never been good at.
After that kiss he was finding it difficult to keep his cool, collected manner in place. One touch of Lucia’s lips had been enough to ignite all the sparks in his brain and frustration had been building ever since.
He’d had enough. Not of Lucia. He’d had enough of them being in the same room together and not talking about the big elephant between them. Ariella Rose.
It was twelve years on. It was time. Even if Lucia still felt that it wasn’t.
There was no way he was getting on that plane back to Tuscany without tackling the subject. No way at all.
But how?
She had barriers erected so tightly around her she might as well have been wearing a spacesuit. The kiss had been one thing. She’d probably already written it off as a blip.
But Logan couldn’t do that. He wanted more. Much more.
No wonder every other relationship he’d had had fizzled out. No wonder he’d never wanted to commit to someone else.
This was nothing to do with losing his daughter. This wasn’t about the fear of another pregnancy or another child.
It was much more primal than that. It was about the fear of never finding someone he had the same chemistry with, the same connection with, as he had with Lucia.
Life was hard. Life was tough. But twelve years of drifting had given him new determination.
Seeing Lucia for the first time again had been like a lightning bolt. Kissing her again...well, that had been so much more.
It was time to face things head-on.
He turned from the view of Venice to face her. She was sitting behind her desk, twiddling her long dark hair around one finger.
He reached forward and grabbed her other hand, pulling her to her feet. ‘Let’s go.’
She looked shocked. ‘Let’s go where?’
He held out his other hand. ‘Out there. Let’s see Venice.’ He pointed to the screen. ‘You already said the computer program would take a few hours. Let’s spend them wisely.’ He grinned at her. ‘Today I am a tourist. Today I want you to show me Venice.’
A hint of a smile appeared on her face. She waved towards the window. ‘But it will be crazy out there. There’s another concert tonight. We’ll have all of last night’s gig-goers and all of tonight’s too.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘What, we can’t handle a few tourists?’
She shook her head and let out a little laugh. ‘Now I know you’re definitely crazy.’ She picked up her handbag and swung it over her shoulder. ‘You’re right, the program will take another few hours, and as long as we start with ice cream I’m in.’
He held out his hand towards her.
She hesitated. She wavered. He could see it in every inch of her body. She finally let out the breath she’d been holding and put her hand in his.
‘Let’s go.’
* * *
It was hotter than hot. Her jacket was hanging over the top of her shoulder bag to try and deter any pickpockets and her shirt was in danger of sticking to her back.
The queue for ice cream was snaking its way out the door of her favourite gelateria. She tugged Logan towards the end of the queue. His hand was still in hers. It felt odd, but she hadn’t quite managed to pull her hand free of his.