‘How can you tell anything from the cover?’ Erin tugged the book and he released it but carried on looking at her.
‘I can’t. I’m going on the blurb at the back. I can’t say that “a moving and epic poetic masterpiece” is the sort of thing I would find captivating.’
‘It’s riveting. Can I ask what does interest you?’
‘Nothing poetic or epic. Feel free to devour your book on the flight over. I have a lot of work to attend to so you can settle down in comfort without fear of being interrupted. You’ll probably fall asleep on the flight over.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Even with a bed? You can also change into pyjamas. There’s a luxury pair waiting for you so that you can really relax.’
‘I’ll stick to my book.’
‘Of course you will but I’d be shocked if it doesn’t put you to sleep.’
He was still grinning as he flipped open his laptop and she settled into the enormous seat and made herself comfortable.
Fall asleep?
Pyjamas?
She’d rather drink twenty cups of black coffee and prop her eyelids open with matchsticks.
She stared at her book while her mind chattered away, diving off in a million different directions.
The next sound she heard was the captain’s voice congratulating himself on an excellent and turbulence-free flight.
She was nudged into consciousness and blinked her way to the surface to see Raffaele’s face way too close to hers for comfort. There was a cushion under her head and, horror of horrors, she was propped up on his shoulder.
‘Ah, Sleeping Beauty’s awake!’
‘You should never have let me fall asleep!’
‘And deprive myself of the chance to hear you snoring? Wouldn’t have dreamed of it. But it’s wakey-wakey time now. Our adventure’s waiting just around the corner!’
Chapter Four
WITH THE TIME DIFFERENCE, dusk was already gathering pace as she and Raffaele cleared customs at the tiny airport on the island.
A handful of hours on a plane had transported them from the pleasant warmth of an English early-summer day to blistering tropical heat.
Around them, people were coming and going and talking and calling out to one another. Taxi drivers were hunting down customers, but without any real sense of urgency, taking refusals good-naturedly. There were fragrant smells of food in the air and over the road, Erin could make out a bustling strip of shops selling souvenirs and food.
She stared around her.
It was wondrous—he smells, the heat and the indigo, purple and orange sky blazing above them as night fell.
‘Now aren’t you glad that you listened to what I said and didn’t decide to wear your suit?’
‘I’ve never worn a suit in my entire life, Raffaele.’
But she was too absorbed in this alien, spectacular environment to rustle up much of a response to what he’d said.
‘A jacket…a blouse…a skirt… That’s as good as a suit. The hotel’s arranged a driver for us while we’re here.’
The words had barely left his mouth when a smiling man approached them with a clipboard and then they were being ushered through the milling crowd away from the airport towards a car park.
In the distance, she could see the sea, black and still. The heat was like being in a sauna, and it made her slow down.
