LITMIR.BIZ

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Zoe agreed happily. The Hotel Bellapensieri was a wonderful hotel set in the peaceful hills to the south of Siena.

      As they pulled into the entrance to the car park Zoe drew her breath in sharply. Could it be? In the far corner of the car park a shining, pale blue Mercedes coupé was just pulling out of the exit. Surely she had seen the distinctive dark, grey head of a tall man in the driver’s seat?

      As she walked across the car park she asked the Partridges, ‘Do you know if that was a Mr. Knight just leaving the car park in the Mercedes?’ Zoe tried to make her voice as casual as possible.

      ‘Yes, it looked like it – we met him last night and had a brandy with him after dinner. Nice chap!’ Mr. Partridge said, cheerily.

      ‘So nice…’ agreed Mrs. Partridge, ‘and so talented. It must be wonderful to be able to write like that.’

      ‘Oh is he a writer?’ Zoe asked.

      ‘Oh yes, he writes film scripts,’ Mr. Partridge replied. ‘Must be worth a bob or two, but a very modest bloke. In the end, he gave us the names of quite a few of his film scripts and even we had heard of them, hadn’t we, Linda…although we’re not great film buffs. Real stick-at-homes we are, aren’t we, Linda?’ Mr. Partridge put his arm through his wife’s and they smiled at each other in contentment.

      ‘We like our own company and just a few books,’ said Mrs. Partridge, smiling at Zoe. ‘And now of course we spend a lot of time with our grandchildren. That’s why we want the mill house…for big family holidays. Our youngest daughter can’t be much older than you and she already has four children. We’re so proud of them aren’t we, John?’

      The Partridges smiled at each other again in mutual satisfaction as they arrived in the cool entrance hall of the hotel and the conversation continued with Mrs. Partridge listing her grandchildren. With all the will in the world, there was no way that Zoe could reasonably turn the conversation back to Alex Knight. Why had he told her he was going to the airport last night?

      Later that night the question returned to haunt her. She lay in the dark once again, turning over all the possibilities and even the most unlikely reasons for him to have lied to her. She flinched as the word resounded in her head, but he had lied. She spoke the hard word aloud, ‘Liar!’

      Fidele, stretched out at the foot of the bed, sighed and seemed to give a yawn of agreement.

      Well, she wasn’t going to spend another night tossing and turning and thinking about the elusive Mr. Knight. She turned on the reading light and for a moment watched the insects drawn to the outside of the mosquito netting in the window frame. Suddenly she felt an unexpected pang of something that could be homesickness. Not that she could actually miss home as such. Her parents lived in a beautiful Georgian house on the outskirts of Bath, surrounded by antique furniture and works of art. A beautiful house but she could not call it home. Maybe it was home to her parents. They lived a calm and elegant life together. A life that had never truly accepted a child. Zoe, a single child, had been sent away to school at what seemed to be the first possible opportunity. Her holidays had been spent at a number of foreign holiday resorts, skiing or by the sea. Au-pairs, ski instructors, tennis coaches and tutors played major roles in the holiday fun but her mother and father remained in the background. No, she couldn’t possibly be missing home. Maybe if her parents had been like the Partridges, exuding love and the warmth of a real family life, it would have been different? It must just be the heat that was making her long for the cool of England. She reached for her book and looked at the cover: Pride and Prejudice. She was definitely not in the mood for anything involving a romantic hero. She took another book from the bedside table. Early Italian Art. She sighed and practically threw it across the room. Did absolutely everything have to remind her of Alex Knight? Fidele shifted uneasily on the rug at the foot of the bed.

      ‘Sorry, Fidele, did I wake you again?’

      The dog gave one of his noisy yawns that sounded just like a disapproving groan.

      ‘I know, it’s time to get to sleep and time to stop talking aloud, too!’ She turned on the bedside radio and soon the rapid Italian voices debating politics bored her to sleep.

       CHAPTER THREE

      Another day, scorching hot but at least it was Sunday. Zoe awoke late and moved lazily around her small town house, making coffee and listening to music. She knew better than to eat breakfast when she was going to lunch with Paolo and his wife. Food would take up the rest of the day.

      As she turned the jeep into the steep, rough road that led up to the Santinis’ sprawling farmhouse, Fidele stood up on the back seat and began an excited whimpering. As soon as the wheels stopped turning he leapt over to the front seat, jumped across Zoe, and galloped into the house. Zoe looked down and realised she had a large, dusty paw print in the middle of her white linen skirt.

      ‘Grazie, Fidele!’ she called after him, laughing. At least it didn’t matter a bit when lunching at the Santini home. Paolo and Serena came out to greet her and they exchanged kisses. Zoe handed over the flowers she had bought for Serena and then the four Santini children were all around them. Zoe had spent some time teaching English to the children, Alicia, Fortunata, Grazie and little Matteo. They were just about the nicest children she had ever met, self-confident and yet very polite. She handed out four little presents and some honey lollipops that she always brought them. They all moved into the shade of an enormous parasol where aperitifs were waiting. Zoe always relaxed completely in the company of the Santini family and soon she was laughing and enjoying herself so much that she didn’t hear the arrival of another car in the driveway. Paolo jumped up and exchanged a quick glance with Serena.

      She nodded and continued talking with Zoe.

      A few moments later Paolo returned with his arm across the shoulders of a young man. He called out before he reached the group.

      ‘Serena, guardi…Massimo e qui…e arrivato! Zoe, I want you to meet my friend, Massimo Mendozzi. He is a big-time Roman lawyer and he has just come to live in our little town of Siena!’

      Zoe stood up and realised that she was being introduced to one of Paolo’s inspirations. She tried not to sigh as she held out her hand and shook the strong, tanned hand that stretched to meet hers. Strong indeed, Massimo squeezed her hand in his as though he would never let it go.

      ‘Piacere, Signorina Bennett, pleased to meet you. Paolo has told me all about you!’ He dipped his dark head forward in a small bow. Zoe almost flinched at his words. What on earth had Paolo said about her? Surely he wouldn’t have said she was lonely? Zoe looked across at Serena who smiled, almost apologetically, and then raised her shoulders in mock despair. Zoe looked back at the newly-introduced Massimo. She could hardly complain about Paolo’s choice for her blind date. Massimo Mendozzi was a typical Roman, not very tall but squarely built, his shoulders and chest filling out his pale blue Ralph Lauren polo shirt. The gleam of a gold chain showed around his strong neck and caught in the dark hair that curled on his chest. A perfect Roman nose between beautiful dark, brown eyes that shone with the confidence of a handsome and successful man. Immaculately dressed, even for a casual Sunday lunch in the country. Yes, he was any girl’s Italian dream. There were so many Italian dreams, Zoe thought idly to herself as they walked over to the long table set for lunch. Massimo deftly held her chair as she sat down and for one moment Zoe had the ridiculous idea that he was going to open up her napkin for her too. She almost giggled but managed to change it to a small cough. Why did good-looking Italian men always seem one step away from being waiters or hairdressers?

      The lunch stretched long into the afternoon and the conversation, mainly in Italian, flew from one subject to another. Massimo lavished his attention on Zoe, but she noticed that he also listened and talked with all the children. She liked the way he gave them each his whole attention, taking them seriously and not talking down to them. It was an appealing quality and Zoe warmed to him. There was no doubt he was an attractive man. And there was even less doubt that he was interested in her. Unlike Alex Knight, Massimo jumped on every opportunity to look into her eyes and rest his hand

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