"I trust you did not mind that I spent time with your family?" he asked, as he opened the car door for Jess.

"Not in the least." But she did. Just a little.

"I am in your hands, Jessamy," he told her, sliding behind the wheel. "Where shall we go?"

She gave him directions to a country pub a few miles away. "They have a pretty garden there, so perhaps we can sit outside. It's a beautiful evening."

"Very beautiful," he agreed, giving her a swift, all-encompassing glance.

Lorenzo professed himself delighted with the picturesque inn. He led Jess to a rustic bench in the surprisingly deserted garden, then went off to discover the extent of the wine list The garden was secluded behind high laurel hedges, the scent of roses heavy in the warm summer night, and Lorenzo looked around in surprise as he rejoined her.

"Inside it is very crowded and very hot. Yet this delightful garden is deserted. Not," he added, sitting beside her, "that I complain! And to my surprise they keep a good prosecco here. I hope this pleases you?"

"Perfect," said Jess, who at this particular moment in time would have accepted tap water with equal pleasure. "I'm surprised they keep such a cosmopolitan cellar. I haven't been here for ages."

After a waitress arrived with bottle and glasses, and departed, smiling, the richer for a generous tip, Lorenzo filled the glasses, then sat back with a sigh of contentment and took Jess's hand in his.

"Ah, Jessamy, this is so perfect."

She smiled up at him. "First of all, Lorenzo, no one uses my proper name. I'm always known as Jess."

He shook his head. "Not to me, cara. I shall always call you Jessamy."

Jess saw no point in contradicting him and looked down at their clasped hands, wondering if his reaction to the contact was anything like her own. Which brought her to something she was desperately curious to know. "Lorenzo, can I ask you something?"

"Anything you wish."

"When you first saw me in the pub in London, you seemed to recognise me. How? And no more moonshine about dreams, please."

He laughed. "Va bene, I confess. I had seen you in a photograph. When she lived in Firenze Leonie suffered much from nostalgia, I think, and one day she showed me some pictures of your home. You were sitting on the lawn with a large dog, the sun shining on your hair, and those big dark eyes smiling into mine."

"So the first time you saw me," said Jess, feeling a little deflated, "you already knew I was Leo's sister." Not love at first sight after all. Just recognition from a photograph.

Lorenzo smoothed a slim finger over the back of her hand. "It would not have mattered who you were. After only one glimpse of your face in the photograph I could not rest until I met you. When Roberto was invited to Leonie's wedding fate played into my hands. I decided to join him and contrive to meet her sister." He shook his head in wonder. "I could not believe my good fortune when I saw you walk into that London bar. But you ran away before Roberto could introduce us."

"I've told you why." She raised her head and met a look in his eyes which made her pulse race.

"Jessamy," he whispered, bending closer. "You are so charming, so appealing, it amazes me that you have no man in your life."

"Would you have gone away without meeting me if I had?"

"No." He shrugged negligently. "I knew you had no husband. A lesser relationship would not. Have deterred me."

She shook her head, smiling. "In other words you always get your own way!"

"No." His face darkened. "Not always."

Jess shivered, cursing herself for her habit of speaking without thinking first.

"You are cold?" he said swiftly. "You wish to go inside?"

"No, please." Jess looked at him squarely. "Look, Lorenzo, before you say anything else, I know you were married. Leo told me."

He nodded, resigned. "Of course. It is no secret"

"It must be terrible to lose someone you love," she said with sympathy, and shivered again.

"You are cold," he accused.

"Only a little. But I want to stay here." Where they were alone.

"Then there is no alternative." Lorenzo put an arm round her and drew her close, and Jess leaned against him as naturally as though they'd sat together like this a hundred times before.

"Will you tell me about your wife?" she said gently.

He was silent for a time. "Since she died," he said at last, choosing his words with care, "I have never talked of Renata. But perhaps now it is time that I do. So that there is truth between us, Jessamy."

She tensed, wondering what he meant, and he put a finger under her chin and turned her face up to him.

"You fear what I have to say?"

"No." Jess held his eyes steadily. "I'm a fan of the truth myself."

He nodded in approval, and drew her closer. "First you must know that though I was very fond of Renata, ours was not a love match. Our families were close, and we were brought up almost as brother and sister. I always knew that I was expected to marry her. It was our parents dearest wish."

"You mean it was an arranged marriage?"

"I was not forced into it. And I believed Renata loved me. I had no choice." He shrugged. "You do not approve of arranged marriages?"

"Absolutely not If ever I do have a husband I expect to choose him myself!"

His arm tightened. "It is a miracle you are not married already."

"No miracle." She smiled a little. "It's Jonah's fault, really."

Lorenzo stiffened, his eyes suddenly blazing into hers. "What are you saying?"

"Not what you think," she said hastily. "I meant that Jonah met Leo when I was still in school. After seeing them together, so much in love, the way they could hardly bear to be apart for a second, I was determined never to settle for anything less."

He let out an explosive breath. "You take delight in tormenting me."

She leaned closer. "I didn't mean to."

"No?" He raised a quizzical eyebrow, then grew thoughtful. "Jessamy," he said slowly, "are you saying you have never been in love?"

"Yes." She gave him a wry little smile. "I thought I'd come close to it once or twice. But I was mistaken. Both times the gentleman in question went off in a huff, never to return."

"A huff? What is that?"