Amy nodded. ‘I suppose. I do get the feeling there’s more to Hugh than he’s letting on. In the ten minutes between when we discussed coming up the mountain and when we left Casa del Cibo, he’d managed to conjure up a car with a driver. Not a taxi, an honest to God chauffeur-driven sedan. I know he’s visited Lake Garda a lot, but still – that’s not normal, is it?’
‘Maybe he didn’t fancy a taxi ride. And he has visited the area a lot; he must know loads of people here.’
‘I suppose. But something doesn’t add up. And we had special tickets, so we didn’t even have to queue.’
Tad grinned at her.
‘Do you think I’m overthinking it?’ she said.
‘Maybe. A wee bit.’
‘Hmmm. Well, whatever’s going on with Hugh, I’m determined to enjoy being up here.’
Tad frowned. ‘Billie told me you hadn’t wanted to bother with this trip – she said she tried to persuade you, but you said it would take you too long to get ready.’
Amy pulled in a breath. ‘She said that?’
‘Aye. I was expecting you to appear at any moment, but then we were in the taxi, and she said you weren’t coming. That you’d told her to go without you.’
‘Perhaps she misinterpreted what I meant. I had said I wanted some time off…’
‘Yes, to go exploring up here – not to stay at the hotel. Or at least that’s what I thought you meant.’
She nodded, looking confused. ‘Yes – thatwaswhat I meant.’
They walked on, Tad batting at the insects, which seemed to be finding the warm, clear air of the mountain to be perfect flight conditions. ‘How come you aren’t getting bug-bombed?’ he said, after a particularly noisy beetle-thing cruised past his left ear.
‘Hugh. He brought insect repellent.’
Tad gave a laugh. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. It seems Hugh should be our Lake Garda guru.’
Amy’s graceful, pale eyebrows lifted as she grinned. ‘Definitely.’
Apart from the insects, Tad decided that walking along the pathway, side by side with Amy, was unknotting tension from his shoulders. Tension he hadn’t even realised he was carrying. They stopped to watch a group of tandem kite jumpers running from the edge of the ridge and whooping their way out into the air.
‘Wow,’ Amy said with a grin. ‘That’s a hard no from me. No way I’d ever do that. Would you?’
‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘On a brave day.’
Her grin broadened. ‘I’d happily watch, but that’s it.’
‘Fair enough. How do you think this week is going, with Billie and the cooking?’ he asked, frowning as he blurted out another unguarded question. ‘Do you think she likes me?’
Amy turned to stare at him. ‘Looks as though she does.’
His frown deepened.
‘That’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it?’ Amy said. ‘Nobody chooses to be on the wrong side of Billie Forsythe-Rogers, do they? And she doesn’t usually bother to spend much time with people she dislikes. Billie doesn’t need to do anything she doesn’t want to.’ She scrunched up her nose. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I’m stood here, looking at a view like that – this whole trip is courtesy of Billie – and I sound so ungrateful. Someone kick me up the butt and tell me to get a grip.’
Tad stifled a laugh. ‘Don’t make excuses for the way you feel on my account. If I had a pound coin for every time I’ve stared at an incredible view and felt nothing but negativity, I’d be able to take a year off. Maybe more.’ He turned to fully face her, so neither of them was looking out over Lake Garda any longer. ‘I’m sorry to bug you with questions about Billie.’
He slapped at an insect, and Amy grinned at the unintentional pun. Then she tilted her head to assess him. ‘It goes with the territory. Someone’s always trying to impress her.’
‘I’m not trying to… Actually, I suppose I am.’
With a sigh, Amy said, ‘Of course you are. It’s all good.’
‘You sound exhausted, Amy.’
