"Hi, Em," she said quickly. "It's me, Jess. What's the matter, love?"

"Jess! Oh, Jess, thank heavens. I'm so glad to hear your voice." Emily broke off to cough. "Sorry to make a fuss like this," she gasped, "but I feel ghastly. I'm so hot, and I've got this terrible pain."

Jess blenched. "Have you rung the desk to ask for a doctor?" she demanded.

"It's the middle of the night. I didn't like to-" Emily broke off into painful coughing again, and dissolved into tears.

"All right, love, all right," soothed Jess. "Don't cry, Em. Hang in there. Listen, I'll get the first flight I can, I promise, so you won't be on your own for long. I'll be in Florence before you know it. In the meantime Lorenzo will organize things from this end, and get a doctor to see you right away."

"Who's Lorenzo?" croaked her friend.

"I'll explain later. Must ring off now, to let him get on with it."

When Jess explained Emily's symptoms Lorenzo took the phone from her swiftly. "I shall arrange for a doctor at once."

Jess shuddered at the thought of her friend alone and ill in a strange country. But as she listened to Lorenzo's flow of musical, expressive Italian she had to fight down a guilty pang of disappointment. There would be no idyll with Lorenzo after all.

Lorenzo finally gave the Dysart telephone number, reiterated his thanks, then rang off and turned to the others. "I was fortunate to get through to my own doctor, Bruno Tosti. He is a personal friend, and will go immediately to the hotel." He smiled reassuringly at Jess. "Do not worry. Bruno speaks English. Your friend is in good hands. The hotel will report here to me on his diagnosis."

"Wonderful! Thank you so much, Lorenzo," said Frances in relief. "Will they really ring back from the hotel at this time of night?"

"But of course, signora He smiled a little. "The hotel is part of the group run by my family."

"Ah! Splendid," said Tom Dysart, relieved. "That's a load off my mind."

"While you're waiting I'll make some coffee and a few sandwiches," said Frances, looking happier. "You hardly ate a thing at dinner tonight, Jess. Come and help me, Tom."

Jess took Lorenzo into the comfortably shabby study, smiling at him with heartfelt gratitude. "I don't know how to thank you, Lorenzo-"

"I know a very good way,'' he said promptly, and took her in his arms to kiss her. "This is all I need," he muttered against her mouth. He raised his head, his dark eyes gleaming as they gazed down into hers. "I would do anything in the world for you, Jessamy. Never doubt this."

In her dealings with the opposite sex shyness had never been a problem for Jess. But Lorenzo's words deprived her of speech.

"You said you like the truth," he reminded her.

"I know." She smiled shakily. "It's my unreality problem again."

Lorenzo smiled indulgently. "I know ways to cure this, but not here, not now." He frowned. "Your mother said you did not eat tonight Why?"

"I was too excited," she admitted, flushing.

"Jessamy!" He made an instinctive move towards her, then halted, smiling ruefully, as he heard her parents returning.

"If you don't mind," said Tom Dysart, setting a tray down, "we'll turn in now. It's been quite a day, one way and another. Kate's in bed, by the way, Jess, and the party should break up soon. But we insist you stay the night, Lorenzo."

"Absolutely," said Frances firmly. "We can't have you driving back to Pennington in the small hours. Adam's old room is always ready for visitors."

Lorenzo smiled with gratitude. "This is most kind. I thank you both."

"The least we can do," Tom assured him. "Right, then, we'll leave you to it. Jess will show you where to sleep. And thanks again, Lorenzo. You've been a great help."

"Prego. I am only too glad."

When the goodnights had been said, and they were alone again Lorenzo took Jess by the hand and sat down with her on the sofa, smiling a little. "I am very sorry that your friend is ill, carissima, but secretly I cannot help feeling grateful to her. Otherwise we should not be sitting here alone together at this time of night."

"True." Jess sighed guiltily. "Poor Emily. I just hope it's nothing serious."

"Bruno will do everything necessary, I promise," Lorenzo assured her. "Now. You must eat,"

"But-"

"I insist." He wagged a reproving finger at her. "Or I shall feed you, mouthful by mouthful-" Sudden heat flared in his eyes, and he blinked and turned away. "Dio, it seems I cannot be trusted. I must sit somewhere else."

"No. Please." Jess caught his hand. "Let's have some coffee. Or would you prefer wine, since we never got round to the prosecco?"

"Grave, no," he said firmly, "Just to be close to you like this intoxicates me enough!"

"Then we'll both be sensible and drink coffee." Jess eyed him cajolingly. "Please eat a sandwich, Lorenzo, or Mother will be offended."

"I repeat, Jessamy," he said huskily. "For you I would do anything."

A statement which made it very hard for Jess to apply herself to a sandwich she didn't want. Nothing, short of measles and the odd bout of flu, had ever deprived her of her appetite in her entire life. This was new. She finished her coffee in sudden dejection.

"What is it, Jessamy?" he said quickly.

"We won't have our day together after all. I must get to Florence as soon as I possibly can." She got up to put cups and plates on the tray.

"There will be other days." Lorenzo drew her down beside him. He put an arm round her and drew her close, his cheek on her hair. For a moment or two they sat quietly, savouring each other's nearness, but at last Lorenzo gave a deep sigh and turned her face up to his. "It is no use, amore, I cannot hold you without wanting to kiss and caress-"

The phone cut off the rest of his words, and with a muffled oath Lorenzo seized it from the table beside him and barked his name. He listened intently for some time, asked some questions, then spoke afterwards at length, and put the phone down.

"What did they say?" demanded Jess.

"Your friend is suffering from la pleurite, I think you call this pleurisy."

Jess eyed him in consternation, then made for the bookshelves along the wall and took down a medical dictionary to leaf quickly through the pages. "Inflammation of the pleura," she reported. "The thin membrane round the lungs. Pain caused by deep breaths or coughing. What a thing to happen on holiday alone! Emily can't speak a word of Italian. Did they mention treatment?"

"She has been given antibiotics and something to make her sleep. Bruno is arranging for a nurse to come immediately, and suggests you ring your friend in the morning." Lorenzo smiled caressingly. "There, Jessamy. Do you feel better now?"

"Much better!" She leaned over the arm of the sofa to kiss him, and he pulled her down beside him, returning the kiss with a hunger she responded to without reserve. After the anxiety of the past hour her relief swiftly changed to desire as she felt Lorenzo's heart thudding through the thin material of her dress. The rhythm accelerated when her lips closed in welcome over his seeking tongue, but at last he held her away a little, his eyes dilating as they dropped to her turbulent breasts. With a smothered groan he caressed the pointing nipples through their filmy covering, and kissed her parted mouth with a passion she responded to in total abandon.

At last Lorenzo drew away, his hands cupping her flushed face. "You set me ablaze, Jessamy," he said unevenly. "But you must believe that it was not for this that I travelled to England to see you."

"What did you expect, then?"

"To meet you, and to get to know you at least a little. But even in my dreams I never aspired to such delight as this-nor such torment!"

"Neither did I," she said with feeling. "It's all so new it's frightening."