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Now Gabe frowned.

‘I ran,’ Stella said, ‘because I was startled.’

‘Rubbish.’ He smiled and lay on his side now, playing with the bow on her dress. ‘You were watching me run—it’s not as if I jumped out of the bushes.’

‘I mean…’ she started to blush ‘… I’ve never been so attracted to anyone before.’

‘Oh!’ He thought for a moment. ‘A little tip,’ he said. ‘You ran in the wrong direction.’

Now she laughed. ‘I should have run straight into your arms?’

‘Maybe.’ He kissed her then.

Their second.

More lazily than last night, slowly, and more languorously, yet with more intent as he undid the top buttons of her dress, far too easily. He kissed where the top of her cleavage would be, were she not lying on her back, his mouth wet and warm, and soon it was not quite enough. Still she ached for more as he moved to the top of her breast. His hand was on her stomach, just lightly, and while it was all lazy and slow, she was thrumming inside.

‘So,’ he said, his breath on her ear. ‘You wanted me on sight.’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘No—’ he lifted his head ‘—you just felt that.’ His hand pressed low on her stomach.

‘Yes.’

They were flirting, and it felt easy to do so, and then the lacy green sky above disappeared, blocked by his head.

‘I did want you,’ she admitted, blushing but honest.

‘Good, because I want you,’ he told her between deep kisses, his leg coming over her, pinning her lower body down.

Oh, this was not the same kiss as last night, not even as the one before. It was soft, yes, and slow, but, without warning, it was suddenly intimate and intense. She closed her eyes, tried to remember to breathe as his tongue provoked.

Then he found her ear and told her all he intended to do when they were properly alone. They were just lying there, a couple embracing, completely dressed, just a couple of buttons undone, but as she listened to his intentions she lifted her knees.

‘And I won’t stop…’ he warned, and she moaned at the blissful thought. His mouth was back on hers, kissing her hard, his tongue teasing as it slid in and out. She was dizzy even lying down, and tried to lift her hips, but his leg still pinned her down.

‘Someone’s coming,’ she gasped, because she could hear American voices, and had visions of them appearing.

‘They won’t come up here’ he said. ‘It’s a private garden.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘Anyway, we’re just kissing.’

They were not just kissing, at least Stella was not. Her dress was down yet it felt up, her breasts covered yet they felt exposed; even though he was no longer touching her breast it felt swollen and needy, and her sex was on fire.

He was smiling down at her. ‘Now we’re not even kissing,’ he told her as the voices faded. ‘Come on, Stella.’

He knew what she didn’t—he was watching her on the edge of coming.

She could feel his erection on her thigh, wondered how he looked so completely normal and calm, with just a half smile as he stared down at her, watched her, just held her eyes.

‘Not here.’

‘We’ll go somewhere.’ He was trying to fathom if they even had suites here. ‘I want you stripped, I want our skin sliding…’ Then he spoke in Italian, and it felt more explicit, and it must have been because he was over her now, pinning her with his arms.

‘I haven’t got anything…’ he warned. And she could not know how impossible those words were for Gabe, because he did not get that intimate, ever… He could feel her hips trying to lift, his weight pressing her down…