This was no mere fountain. A highly decorated palace wall rose behind it, at the centre of which was a triumphal arch, framing the magnificent, half-naked figure of Oceanus, mythical god of water, ruling over the showers that cascaded into the pool below. Everywhere was flooded with light, giving the water a dazzling glitter against the night.

‘I’ve read about it,’ she murmured, ‘and seen pictures, but—’

‘But nothing prepares you,’ he agreed. ‘Some things have to be experienced before they become real.’

Nearby was a café with tables out on the street. Here they could sit and watch the humming life about them.

‘Nice to see people having a good time,’ she murmured.

‘Does that mean your life is unhappy now?’

‘Oh, no,’ she said quickly. ‘But it does tend to be a bit too serious. Legal documents, history books. Not exactly filled with fun. And sometimes you need to remind yourself about fun.’

He regarded her curiously, thinking that a woman with her looks could have all the fun she wanted with all the men she wanted. So there was a mystery here. But he was too astute to voice the thought.

‘But Italy should remind you of fun,’ he said. ‘It’s not all cathedrals and sober history.’

‘I know. You’ve only got to stroll the streets of Rome in the twilight, and see—well, lots of things.’

His grin and the way he nodded spoke volumes about his own life. Doubtless it was full of ‘twilight activities’, she thought. And they would be fun. She didn’t doubt that either.

‘Anyway,’ she went on, ‘my favourite Italian was—’

She named a historical character with a legendary reputation for wickedness.

‘He wasn’t as bad as people think,’ Lucio observed. ‘He was actually quite a serious man who—’

‘Don’t say that,’ she interrupted him quickly. ‘You’ll spoil him for me. If he’s not wicked he’s not interesting.’

He regarded her curiously. ‘There aren’t many people who’d see it that way.’

‘But it’s true.’

‘Certainly it’s true, but we’re not supposed to say so.’

‘Well, I’m always doing things I’m not supposed to. That’s why I’m the black sheep of the family.’

‘Because you eloped at seventeen?’

She chuckled. ‘There were a few more things than that. There was the politician who came to hold a meeting in New York, all virtue and pomposity, except that he’d spent the previous night in a place where he shouldn’t have been. I’d seen him leaving and I couldn’t resist getting up at the meeting and asking him about it.’

‘Shame on you!’ he said theatrically.

‘Yes, I have no sense of propriety, so I’m told.’

‘So you’re wicked and interesting, eh?’

‘Certainly wicked. You know, everyone has their own talents. My sister Ellie is a talented dancer, my sister Alex is a talented vet—’

‘And you’re a talented linguist.’

‘Oh, that! That’s just earning a living. No, my real talent, the thing at which I’m practically a genius, is getting my own way.’

‘Now you really interest me.’

‘It can always be done, if you know how to go about it.’

‘Cunning?’

‘Certainly. Cunning, devious, manipulative, wicked—whatever it takes.’

‘Is that the real reason you broke off your career to go travelling?’

‘In one sense. I wanted to find another world, and I’m finding it. That’s the way to live. Know what you want, and don’t stop until you get it.’ She raised her glass to him. ‘I guess there’s probably a lot of interesting wickedness in your own life.’

He assumed a shocked air.

‘Me? No time for it. I’m far too busy earning a respectable living, I assure you.’

‘Right. I’ll believe you. Thousands wouldn’t.’

He grinned. ‘You do me an injustice.’

‘No, I don’t. Any man who proclaims himself respectable needs to be treated with suspicion.’

‘I protest—’

‘Don’t bother because I won’t believe a word you say.’

They plunged into a light-hearted argument with much vigour on both sides, but also much laughter. When she looked at her watch she was amazed to see how much time had passed. She had a strange sense of being mentally at one with him. Almost like a brother.

But the next moment he turned his head so that she saw his profile against the glittering light from the fountain. Not brotherly, she thought. Disconcertingly attractive in a way that eclipsed other men, even Don. Or perhaps especially Don. But definitely not brotherly.

She remembered the first time she and Don had ventured beyond kisses, both eager to explore. But something had been missing, she knew that now.

‘Are you all right?’ Lucio asked.

‘Yes, fine.’

‘Sure? You seemed as if something had disturbed you.’

‘No, I guess I’m just a bit hungry.’

‘They do great snacks here. I’ll get the menu.’

‘I’ll just have whatever you’re having.’

He ordered spicy rolls and they sat eating contentedly.

‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ she asked.

‘Just trying to solve the mystery. You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who goes along with whatever the man orders.’

‘Dead right, I’m not. But this is new territory for me, and I’m learning something fresh all the time.’

‘So I’m part of the exploration?’

‘Definitely. I like to find something unexpected. Don’t you?’

‘I sometimes think my life has had too much that’s unexpected. You need time to get used to things.’

She hoped he would expand on that. She was beginning to be intrigued by everything he said. But before she could speak there was an excited cry as more crowds surged into the piazza, eager to toss coins into the water. For a while they both sat watching them.

‘It’s the age of science,’ she reflected. ‘We’re all supposed to be so reasonable. Yet people still come here to toss coins and make wishes.’

‘Perhaps they’re right,’ he said. ‘Being too reasonable can be dangerous. Making a wish might free you from that danger.’

‘But there are always other dangers lurking,’ she mused. ‘What to do about them?’

‘Then you have to decide which ones to confront and which to flee,’ he said.

She nodded. ‘That way lies wisdom. And freedom.’

‘And freedom matters to you more than anything, doesn’t it?’ he asked.

‘Yes, but you must know what it really means. You think you’re free, but then something happens, and suddenly it looks more like isolation.’

A sudden bleakness in her voice on the last word caught his attention.

‘Tell me,’ he said gently.

‘I thought I knew my family. An older brother and sister who were twins, a younger sister, but then it turns out that there’s been a big family secret all along. It began to come out and—’ she gave a sigh ‘—I was the last one to know. I’ve always been closest to Matt, even though he can be so distant sometimes, but now it’s like I’m not really part of the family. Just an outsider, in nobody’s confidence.’

‘You spoke of nobody caring. Nobody at all? What about outside the family?’

She grimaced. ‘Yes, there was someone. We were moving slowly but I thought we’d get there in time. Well, I’m an outsider there, too. It feels like wandering in a desert.’

She checked herself there. She hadn’t meant to confide her desert fantasy, for fear of sounding paranoid, but he seemed to understand so much that it had come out naturally.

‘I know the feeling,’ he said, ‘but a desert can be a friendly place. There’s no one there to hurt you.’

‘It’s true there are no enemies there,’ she said. ‘But no friends either, nobody who cares about you.’

‘You wouldn’t want to be there for ever,’ he agreed. ‘But for a while it can be a place to rest and recruit your strength. Then one day you can come back and sock ‘em on the jaw.’

She longed to ask him what events and instincts lay behind that thought. All around her doors and windows seemed to be flying open, revealing mysterious roads leading to mists and beyond, to more mysteries, tempting her forward.

But could it be right to indulge her confusions with a stranger?

Then she saw him looking at her, and something in his eyes was like a hand held out in understanding.

Why not?

What harm could come of it?

‘I guess my real problem is that I’m no longer quite sure who I am,’ she said.

He nodded. ‘That can happen easily, and it’s scary.’

‘Yes, it is. With Don I always felt that I was the one in charge of our relationship, but then I found I wasn’t. Oh, dear, I suppose that makes me sound like a managing female.’

‘Sometimes that’s what a man needs to bring out the best of him,’ he said.

‘Did that happen to you?’

‘No, she wasn’t “managing” enough. If she had been, she might have bound me to her in time to save us both.’ He added quickly, ‘Go on telling me about you.’

Now a connection had been established it was easy to talk. Neither of them went into much detail, but the sense of being two souls adrift was a bond. It was a good feeling and she was happy to yield to it.

‘What happened to your gift for getting your own way?’ he asked at last.

‘I guess it failed me. I didn’t say it worked all the time. You have to seize the chance, but sometimes the chance can’t be seized.’

A cheer that went up from the fountain made them both look there.

‘More coins, more wishes,’ he said.

‘Aren’t they supposed to wish for a return to Rome?’ she asked.

‘Yes, but they always add another one, usually about a lover.’

‘I’d like to go closer.’

As they neared the water they could see a man tossing in coins by the dozen, then closing his eyes and muttering fiercely.

‘What’s he wishing for?’ Charlotte asked.

‘My guess is he wants his lady-love to appear out of the blue, and tell him he’s forgiven. When a guy’s as desperate as that it’s pretty bad.’

Then the incredible happened. A female hand tapped the young man on the shoulder, he turned, gave a shout of joy and embraced her.

‘You came,’ he bellowed. ‘She came, everyone. She’s here.’

‘You see, it works,’ someone shouted. ‘Everyone toss a coin and make a wish.’

Laughing, Charlotte took two coins from her bag and threw one in, crying, ‘Bring me back to Rome.’

‘That’s not enough,’ Lucio said. ‘Now you must wish that Don will come back.’

‘Too late for that. We’re not right for each other. I know that now. But what about you? Your lady might arrive and decide to “manage” you, after all, since it’s so obviously what you want.’

But he shook his head. ‘She’s gone to a place from which she’ll never return.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry. Did it happen very recently?’

‘No,’ he said softly. ‘It was a hundred thousand years ago.’

She nodded, understanding that time, whether long or short, could make no difference to some situations. But another thought danced through her mind so fleetingly that she was barely aware of it. Another woman had stood between them, but no longer. Suddenly she had vanished, leaving only questions behind.

Impulsively she reached out and laid a hand on his cheek.

‘Hey, you two, that’s not good enough,’ came an exultant cry from nearby. ‘This is the fountain of love. Look around you.’

Everywhere couples were in each other’s arms, some hugging fondly, some kissing passionately. Lucio gazed into her face for only a moment before drawing her close.

‘I guess they feel we’re letting the side down,’ he said.

‘And we can’t have that, can we?’ she agreed.

The feel of his lips on hers was passionate yet comforting, confirming her sensation that she was in the right place with the right person.

‘I’m glad I met you,’ he whispered against her mouth.

‘I’m glad, too.’

They walked slowly back along the Via Vittorio Veneto. Neither spoke until they reached the hotel and he said, ‘Let me take you up to your room.’

She could have bid him goodnight there and then, but she didn’t. She knew now that as the evening passed the decision had been slowly building inside her. What she was going to do was right, and whatever might come of it, she was resolved.

When they reached her room he waited while she opened the door. Then he took a step back, allowing her time to change her mind. But she had passed that point, and so had he. When she held out her hand he took it, followed her inside and closed the door, shutting out the world.

In the morning she awoke to find herself alone. By her bed was a scrap of paper, on which was written, ‘Thank you with all my heart. Lucio.’

At breakfast she looked around but didn’t see him. She realised that she didn’t even know his last name.

Strangely the situation did not distress her. They had been ships that passed in the night because that was what both of them had chosen, both of them needed. He’d been passionate and at the same time a gentle, considerate lover, with a mysterious gift for making her feel as though her troubles were falling away. She could go on to whatever the future held, stronger and more confident.

But gradually, a few weeks later, she discovered what the future did hold, and she realised that nothing would ever be the same. Now it mattered that she didn’t know his full name. It took several hours’ online research to discover that he was Lucio Constello, one of the most notable men in the business, with vineyards all over the country. But the most famous one was in Tuscany.

She’d set out to confront him, wondering how this business could possibly end, and soon she would know.

There he was, far ahead. The moment of truth had arrived, and she had no choice but to go forward.

CHAPTER TWO

‘I’M NOT imagining this, am I?’ he asked slowly. ‘It’s really you?’

‘Sure it’s me,’ she said lightly.

‘You… here? In Tuscany? It’s great but I can hardly believe it.’

‘Why? There was always a chance we’d bump into each other again.’

The reference to chance was deliberate. She was determined to play it casual. There must be no hint of how frantically she’d searched for him, how much it mattered. She, who prided herself on fearing nothing, had been dreading this meeting, dreading the sight of his face when she told him her news.

She covered her feelings with a smile, a cheerful shrug. He mustn’t suspect before she was ready.

‘I’m flattered you even remember me,’ she said.

‘Oh, yes,’ he murmured. ‘I remember. We had a great evening. You made me laugh.’

She stayed calm, although it was hard. Was laughter all he remembered about that night?

‘As you did me,’ she returned brightly.

‘Yes, we had a wonderful time. I’m sorry I had to leave so suddenly the next morning. You were deeply asleep and I didn’t want to awaken you.’

That wasn’t quite the truth. He’d been overtaken by a desire to keep that perfect night apart, separate from all other contacts, like a picture in a frame. It had made him slip silently out of the room, leaving behind only the note that gave no clue to his identity or whereabouts. Perhaps he should be ashamed of that, but he couldn’t think of it now.

The sight of her approaching had filled him with an overwhelming gladness. The awareness of that night was there again, spectacular, intense. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, and for a moment he felt nothing but pleasure.

Then she destroyed it.

‘I had to find you,’ she said. ‘There’s something you need to know.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m pregnant.’

‘Wh-what?’

‘I’m pregnant. I’m carrying your child.’

To his own horror his mind went blank. The pleasure at seeing her, the joy at the beautiful memories, everything vanished. He had the sensation of being punched in the face.

‘Are you… sure?’ he asked, barely knowing what he said.

‘Quite sure. And in case you’re wondering, I don’t make a habit of doing what I did that night, so there hasn’t been anyone else. You’re the father.’

‘Look, I didn’t mean…’

He could have cursed himself for his clumsiness but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t mean—what? And what did he mean? If anything.

Watching him intently, Charlotte saw the last thing in the world she’d wanted to see. Confusion. Blank. Nothing.

A desert.

In a blinding flash her courage collapsed. Don had rejected her, and although her heart hadn’t been broken, rejection was still rejection. Now Lucio was working himself up to reject her, and she wasn’t going to hang around for it.

‘It’s OK, it’s OK,’ she said with a good imitation of a cheerful laugh. ‘There’s no need to panic.’

‘I’m not—’

‘Oh, yes, you are. You’re on the verge of a panic attack. Oh, poor Lucio! Did you think I was trying to trap you into marriage? Not a chance! You and me? Get real! It would never work. We’d always—well, never mind that. Just don’t panic. You’re completely safe from me, I promise you. I’m only here because you have the right to know. Fulfilling my citizenly duty. How about that?’

She even managed a teasing note in the last words, and had the bitter satisfaction of seeing uncertainty in his face. He was floundering. Good. Serve him right!

‘So there it is,’ she said. ‘Now you know. If you want to talk about it you’ll find me here.’ She thrust a piece of paper into his hand. ‘But if you don’t want to, that’s just fine. Goodbye, Lucio. It was nice knowing you.’

Turning on her heel she walked swiftly away, determined to escape before he could insult her with any more blank-faced confusion.

But she gave him a last chance. That was only fair. After hurrying a few hundred yards she looked back, expecting to find him watching her, even perhaps stretching out a hand. That would have made her pause to see if he followed.

But he was frozen where she’d left him, immobile, staring down at the paper in his hand. She waited for him to look up, see her, call her name.

Nothing! Damn him!

There was only one thing to do, and that was vanish. She managed this by moving sideways between the vines so that she slipped into the next alley. This she did again, then again and again until she was several alleys away from the one where she’d started. Then she began to run, and didn’t stop until she reached her car. A few moments later she was speeding away from the estate.

As she fled she asked herself ironically what else she’d expected. A man who shared a woman’s bed and vanished without a goodbye had sent her an unmistakable message. The woman who chose to ignore that message had nobody to blame but herself if she suffered rejection.

And it certainly was rejection. Lucio hadn’t said the actual words, but only because he’d been trying to phrase them tactfully. She wouldn’t hear from him again but it didn’t matter. She’d told him what he had a right to know and her conscience was clear.

She thought of her family back home in the States. She’d known of her pregnancy for several weeks, but so far hadn’t told them. How would they react?

Or did she know the answer, only too well? They would accept it as no more than you’d expect from Charlotte—the difficult one, unpredictable, awkward, never quite fitting in.

And the one-night stand? Well, that was just like her, wasn’t it? Always ready to explore new territory, even if it might have been best left unexplored. Not that she was exactly a bad girl…

But then again, maybe she was.

She wished her brother, Matt, was here right now. Strange that they should be so close, when he was Ellie’s twin, not hers. But there was something in their natures that clicked. She knew that he, too, sometimes felt adrift in a desert, and he fought it the way she did herself, with humour that was ironic and sometimes bitter. She could almost hear him now. ‘Why did you bother finding this guy? He didn’t even give you his last name. Doesn’t that tell you something?’

Perhaps he did tell me the name, she thought, I just can’t remember it. It didn’t matter. It was that sort of evening. All about having fun.

But it hadn’t been fun trying to track him down afterwards. The thought of applying to the hotel for information had made her shiver with shame. Instead she’d gone to an internet café and then ransacked the internet for Italian vintners until she found no less than five of them called ‘Lucio.’ Luckily there was a photograph that identified him, but the search had made her feel like some abandoned serving girl from a bygone era. Which didn’t improve her temper any.

She’d finally identified him as Lucio Constello, one of the most successful men in the business. His wine was famous throughout the world, and he seemed to live a glamorous life, enjoying yacht trips, rubbing shoulders with celebrities, making money at every point. There were pictures of him with beautiful women, one of whom had recently ended a romance with a film producer.

‘And perhaps we know why,’ enthused the text. ‘Just look at the way they’re gazing at each other.’

But after that the starlet was never seen with him again.

One article declared that he was ‘a man who really knew how to enjoy himself.’ Which meant, Charlotte thought wryly, that one-night stands were a normal part of his life. Hence his disappearance and her feeling that he wouldn’t be pleased to see her.

His vineyards were many, spread out over Italy, and all subject to his personal supervision. Crisis! He could be anywhere. But an article revealed that he usually spent May in Tuscany at the Vigneto Constanza. There was time to catch him.

At the same time a perverse inner voice argued that there was no need to contact him at all. What did this baby really have to do with Lucio? Forget him. He belonged in the past.

But her mother’s voice seemed to flit through her mind. It was weeks since she’d learned the truth of how Fenella had led Cedric Patterson into accepting Clay Calhoun’s twins as his own, yet still the deception haunted her. No matter how much she tried to defend her mother she knew that she herself must be honest. So she would write to Lucio.

But somehow the letter wouldn’t get itself written. Whatever tone she adopted was the wrong one. Too needy. Too hopeful. Too chilly. Too indifferent.

So she’d headed for Tuscany, checking into a hotel in the picturesque old city of Florence, and hiring a car from the hotel for the rest of the journey. For part of the way a map was useful, but when she grew nearer she asked directions. Everyone could point the way. The Vigneto Constanza was known and respected for miles around, clearly a source of welcome employment which was probably why they called the house a palazzo, she thought.

But she changed her mind when she saw the building, which was certainly a palace, rearing up three floors, with an air of magnificence that suggested nobility rather than business.

As she approached a middle-aged woman came out and stood waiting on the step.

‘Good morning,’ she said as Charlotte got out of the car. ‘I’m Elizabetta, the housekeeper. Can I help you?’

‘I’m here to see Signor Constello.’

‘I’m afraid he’s not here,’ Elizabetta said.

Charlotte gave a sharp breath. He’d vanished. She’d pursued him for nothing. Suddenly she was in the desert again.

But then Elizabetta added, ‘Not just now anyway. He’s gone out inspecting the vines on the far side of the estate.’

‘But he is… coming back?’

‘Well, it’s a big estate. He won’t be home until very late, and sometimes he stays the night with one of his workers who lives on the far side.’

‘I need to see him today. Can you tell me where he’ll be?’

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