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EVERYTHING FELT LIKE a letdown after Gabe.

Vellascura was beautiful, yet it didn’t quite fit. The ballroom was bigger and possibly more suitable than Palazzo Rinaldi, but that was really the only positive.

Or was her mood just low?

Was everything a touch greyer, knowing she would never see Gabe again?

Tuscany was glorious with its thermal springs but, no matter how much she tried to inject enthusiasm, accepted it would have to be multi location—nothing compared to Palazzo Rinaldi.

Or was she simply pining for Gabe?

Sir Charles checked in and said he was looking forward to seeing her proposal and rough costings, but instead of sitting at her computer working on things, all too often she found herself poring over the photos of her magical time in Sant Lavia.

Even though it was summer, it was grey and gloomy when she arrived back in London, and it all felt a little like a dream as by Monday she was back at her desk and with an important proposal to finesse. Sir Charles was on location in India when she returned, which came as a relief.

‘These are great,’ Daisy said, looking at the aerial shots. ‘Did you get a private charter?’

‘No, the tourist one…’

‘Wow,’ Daisy said. ‘Seriously, wow! I’ll book the screening room,’ she said and though Stella thanked her, Daisy perhaps saw her gulp.

‘They use the screening room for big proposals,’ Daisy said. ‘And this is big.’

‘I know, but this is just for Sir Charles,’ Stella said, without adding that she didn’t have anything that felt worthy of the screening room.

‘Well, if it goes forward, we’ll be pitching it to the bigwigs.’

As the deadline neared, Daisy looked a little worried. After all, she was her manager,

She was an upbeat and very skilled person though and knew the area like the back of her hand.

‘Let’s see those shots of the streets in Sant Lavia and the church.

‘Damn,’ Daisy breathed. Because yes, the fresh pair of eyes had brought them Vellascura, but it was becoming more multi location by the day.

And so they continued working on her proposal, yet all roads led to Sant Lavia.

Including her heart.

But then, on the morning of the dreaded proposal, Jinty informed her it was to be rescheduled again, though for a very different reason this time.

Sir Charles had to attend a funeral.

In Sant Lavia.

‘Il Conte di Sant Lavia died?’ Stella was shocked, especially when she found out that he’d died on the very day she’d left. Oh, perhaps she shouldn’t be, after all, Gabe had told her it was imminent, but little more than ten days ago they’d been talking, smiling…

‘When’s the funeral?’ Stella asked, wondering if she ought to send flowers, just wanting to reach out.

‘Now,’ Jinty said, glancing at the clock. ‘Poor Sir Charles, he had to fly there from India. They were old friends, apparently.’

Stella nodded, remembering Gabe’s warning not to discuss them.

‘So,’ Jinty checked. ‘We’ll move the proposal to Monday.’

‘Of course.’

It upset her more than it perhaps should. After all, she had only met him the once, but it had been such a lovely night. And if she was upset, she couldn’t imagine how Gabe must be feeling.