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‘Well, we could follow our old plan—visit the fairy-tale castle or the palace...’ Reaching out, she concentrated on buttering a piece of toast, her eyes on the knife as if the whole enterprise was a complicated military strategy. ‘Or we could stay here. Play board games, read books, drink coffee, cook...and anything else that takes our fancy.’ A small shrug. ‘Have a complete break from the world.’

The phrase was an echo of his earlier thoughts.

Zander poured more coffee, shocked at how very much the idea appealed. Never before had he embraced the idea of doing nothing, let alone doing it wrapped in cosy intimacy.

A small alarm bell started to sound. ‘Are you sure? I saw yesterday how enthusiastic you were about the castle and the whole history of Sintra.’

‘I was. I am. But...’

Her cheeks flushed and he couldn’t help but smile. ‘But you figure there are better activities on offer than sightseeing?’

‘Well...now that you mention it...’

His brain shut off the growing siren that urged caution and his vocal cords jumped into action. ‘A complete break from the world sounds good. The castle will be there another day.’

Whereas whatever was happening here had a time limit. It was a reminder to himself—a justification as to why he wanted to spend the next two days cocooned with Gabby in the villa. After all, once they went back to England normal life would resume. The opening of an office in New York, deals and clients and business growth—that was where his focus had to be. But suddenly he didn’t want to think about that.

‘I vote we stay right here. And I have a brilliant idea. Let’s go back to bed.’

‘Works for me.’

And so started a day unlike any Zander had experienced before—a day when time seemed to lose meaning as they alternated between conversations about films and books and comfortable silence, as they played Monopoly and ate gigantic ham-and-cheese toasties in bed.

‘It’s been an amazing day,’ he said softly as the night drew in and he opened a bottle of champagne.

‘Yes, it has. I’ll definitely be putting this day in my treasure trove.’

Handing her a frothing glass, he settled next to where she was curled up on the sofa, dressed in a fluffy dressing gown. ‘Treasure trove?’

‘It’s something Gran came up with when I was a child. It was hard, knowing that

the time I spent with her and Gramps could be snatched away at any time. And I never knew if Mum would bring me back again or not. So Gran said we should make a treasure trove of memories. Special things that I could treasure and take out and remember when I needed them. It was a brilliant idea. When things were tough I’d imagine opening the treasure trove and there they’d be. I’d lose myself in the memories.’

Her eyes were looking into the past now, and he wondered how bad it had been. ‘I’m guessing it was pretty tough,’ he said.

‘Yes, sometimes it was.’ Her voice was flat, matter-of-fact, and then she smiled. ‘But there were some good memories, and that’s where the treasure trove came in. When good things happened I’d make sure to imprint every second on my mind and I’d imagine putting the memory into a special box. And now it’s a habit I’ve got into. It helps sometimes—when things go wrong it’s good to remember there were happy times. Sometimes Gran and I sit and remember Gramps, look into our treasure troves of memories of him.’

Zander watched Gabby and saw the affection on her face. ‘Your gran sounds like a really special person.’

‘She is. I’d do anything for her. Gran is the best person I know. And Gramps was pretty impressive, too. Life wasn’t always easy for them but they never gave up, never despaired. Gran says it’s because they had each other. She says Gramps was her rock, and the knowledge that their love was indestructible gave them both strength in the dark times. One day I hope I can find that kind of love, but I realise it’s probably a pipe dream.’

‘Why?’ Conflicting emotions hit him. Right now the idea of Gabby with the love of her life didn’t sit well with him—in fact the idea of Gabby with anyone else caused a knot of anger in his gut. Dog in the manger, or what? He told himself that of course he wanted her to have what she wanted.

‘You’re only twenty-nine. There’s plenty of time to find Mr Right.’

‘Even if I find him I’d have to figure out how to keep him, how to maintain the relationship.’

‘You make it sound like a car.’

‘A relationship is like a car—Gran told me she and Gramps had to work at theirs. Sometimes it needs fuel, sometimes it needs fine-tuning, sometimes it needs a polish.’

‘So you do know what you’re doing?’

‘Nope.’ She shook her head, chestnut strands shaking in emphasis. ‘In real life I have no clue how to look after a car, and I don’t have any idea with relationships, either. Been there and have the T-shirt.’

‘What went wrong?’

‘I think I wanted it to work too much. Then I couldn’t figure out how to make it work, and the harder I tried the more panicked I became. That had a knock-on effect and made me madly insecure and needy. That made both Steve and Miles run for the hills—or rather run to other women.’