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“No you’re not.”

She grinned, completely unperturbed at the reaction of her guests to each other’s presence.

“Wine?” Elio asked, speaking in the tone of someone oblivious to the undercurrents that were more like overcurrents from his guests, and was rewarded with a scowl from his sister.

“Tequila?” Mattia suggested, and was rewarded with the scowling lips twitching before he was given the cold shoulder again.

Siena grinned. “I’m sure we’ve got a bottle.”

As soon as she’d bustled out of the room, Elvira turned to her brother. “Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?” she said, speaking as if Mattia wasn’t there.

Elio shrugged. “You wouldn’t have come.”

Mattia could almost feel the death stare she bestowed on her brother. “I wonder why. The bastard kidnapped me.”

“From what I saw of Mattia’s face when we arrived at that apartment, he came off worse than you with that,” Elio, who was clearly indifferent to death stares, answered drily. “That he was standing in front of you to protect you when we arrived also suggests the situation changed from a hostage one to something…” Elio’s piercing eyes suddenly moved to Mattia’s. “…different.”

Before either of them could react to this unexpected perception, Siena came back in carrying an unopened bottle of tequila and somehow managing four shot glasses with it.

Completely ignoring the stunned silence, she poured them each a shot and placed them all in the centre of the table. Taking one of them, she raised it. “To Mattia. May his travels be everything he hopes for.”

If the beats of Mattia’s heart had been pumping heavily before, now they were smashing against his ribs.

He’d set out this night with the assumption this was a simple bon voyage meal, but now…

He’d not spoken one word to anyone about what had happened between him and Elvira, and he knew damned well Elvira wouldn’t have spoken about it either. It was for her sake that he’d kept his cards so close to his chest. For her sake, too, that he’d not reached out to her, though God knew not a minute had passed in the last three weeks when he hadn’t wanted to.

Whatever she felt for him, she didn’t want to feel it. He knew that, and he accepted it. How could he do anything else after what his family had done to hers?

Once they’d downed their shots, Siena jauntily said to Elvira, “He’s going away tomorrow.”

Elvira’s stare suddenly locked onto his. “You’re going away?”

His heart kicked painfully at the catch in her voice. Somehow he was able to say, “Yes, I’m going travelling,” with some coherence.

Getting out of Naples had become his priority. Knowing Elvira was in the same city as him had become intolerable.

He’d known he would miss her but hadn’t known how badly. Couldn’t have known.

If he’d known she would be there that night…

He couldn’t say he’d have refused. Who could turn down an evening of being insulted by Elvira Ranieri? Certainly not him.

But, God, was he glad he was getting out of here.

He supposed a lifetime of zero desire or emotion towards women had left him unprepared for falling in love. That’s if what he felt for her even was love. How would he know? Maybe this was just a very acute dose of lust.

They’d spent only thirty-six hours together, and yet three weeks after they’d parted, she was still all he could think about.

Love or not, the very short but very intense affair they’d shared had left an indelible mark in him.

“Where are you going?” she asked, reaching for the tequila bottle. “Somewhere very far away, I hope.”

“On a road trip through Europe. I’m going to head to the Alps. I’ll do Austria first.”

She poured them all another shot. “Will you be away for long?”

“I don’t plan to come back before the spring.” That’s if he came back. Now that he was out of the world he’d grown up in, the world was his to do as he pleased. Wishing that the world was his to do as he pleased with Elvira by his side was for the fairies.