Tad stopped. Frowned. Grinned. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe falling for a gorgeous exterior isn’t such a bad idea.’
‘And we’re still talking about Riva?’
They stared at one another, the beat of time stretching until he swallowed, his throat bobbing before he raised his eyebrows. ‘Aye. What else would you be falling for?’
You…
The word was so close to her lips she had to press them together to stop herself from saying it. Her throat tightened with the effort of not blurting it out, and she held her breath until she could trust what would come out if she spoke.
‘Oh, I have no idea,’ she managed to say, pasting a light-hearted grin on her face. ‘There’s so many things about Riva to choose from.’
Her flippancy didn’t seem to evaporate the intensity of the way they were staring at one another. Neither of them moved, and then she felt his fingers wrapping their way around her free hand, closing their own circle as effectively as castle battlements.
‘Not from where I’m standing, there aren’t,’ he said.
Her grin faded, replaced by a frown, which Tad must have misinterpreted, because he let her hands drop and turned to walk on.
‘Sorry,’ he said, shaking his head and walking away.
Amy caught up to him, keeping pace with him as he headed around a fortressed building, surrounded by a moat in which tens of tiny boats were moored. ‘What are you sorry about?’
‘I thought, after last night, you might appreciate a bit of reassurance. There’s no pretending that this – us – whatever is happening between us this week hasn’t come as a surprise to me. I want you to know that whatever happens is OK with me. I’m not going to hold you to anything.’
Amy’s frown deepened. ‘You make it sound like you think I do this a lot.’
Tad ran a hand across his forehead. ‘That’s not what I meant. Not at all. I mean I don’t want you to feel under any kind of pressure. From me.’
‘Pressure?’ Amy felt a bolt run hot and cold up and down her spine. It sounded as though Tad was giving her an out. Was that because he wanted one for himself?
‘I didn’t go looking for this, for you… But now you’re here, and… I know I can come across as being a bit intense, that’s all. I don’t want you to feel it as pressure, is what I’m trying to say. Because I really like you, Amy, but I’m also painfully aware you’re only here for another handful of days.’
She nodded. Way too early to be talking about a long-distance thing, then. She knew it was, and something Billie had said in the dim and distant past chose that moment to pop into the front of Amy’s mind. She’d said it was always better to burn fast and hard. Better to make the most of someone, enjoy them while she could, because holiday romances never went the distance. Billie was cynical, no doubt about it, but Amy wondered if she might have a point.
‘Better make the most of the next few hours, then,’ Amy said, pushing all the things she wanted to say to Tad to one side, taking his hand and painting a bright smile on her face. ‘Come on, you promised me ice cream, remember?’
* * *
Tad smiled, took Amy’s hand and led the way to the gelato shop. He’d tried to let her know where his head was – scrambled – had blurted out some nonsense about pressure and intensity. Where the hell had that come from? What he wanted to say was that he hadn’t felt like this about anyone since he’d met Honor, all those years ago. But he’d wanted to do it without bringing up her name again. Even someone with Tad’s lack of subtlety was aware that referencing his long-since-lost partner wasn’t the way to go with someone new.
They passed the linear water feature, its low fountain jets rhythmical and designed to metaphorically bridge the change between the lake and the land, at least that’s how he’d interpreted them. As they crossed the next stretch of cobbles, Tad wanted to claw back the feelings he’d experienced when she turned a circle in the square only minutes before, taking in the beauty of the place. The look of unfiltered pleasure as she’d brought her gaze back to him. The way she’d stared at him before he’d gone off on a passion-killing rant about pressure.
What an idiot.
At the gelato shop, Amy selected a scoop of blackcurrant and another of mango, and Tad kept it simple with a double scoop of crema. There were some wrought-iron tables and chairs out front of the shop and Amy agreed when he suggested they sit there to eat.
‘Where are you heading next?’ he said. ‘What does your calendar look like working for Billie?’
‘It’s always full on. I think we get some time back at base – Billie’s house in London – after this trip, finalising copy and choosing photos for the article with the newspaper people. She’s got a few parties coming up, invites to eat at a couple of restaurants’ opening nights, stuff like that before we head off again.’
‘But what about you? Do you get time off?’
In other words, can you come back soon? Not that he could manage to say that.
‘Time off from being on holiday here, you mean?’
‘You’re not on holiday, though, are you? You’re working, same as I am.’
‘I suppose. Talking of which, can I get copies of the recipes we’ve tried during lessons this week? I meant to ask at the beginning of the week, and then things kind of spiralled.’
