By the time she had finished her tea, limiting herself to just one small piece of the enticing freshly baked sponge cake offered to her, Emma was pleased to see that the rain had stopped. She checked her watch and was mildly surprised to see that it was already half past five. As she did so, she heard voices and saw Marina and Rich come into the orangery looking full of beans. Emma did her very best to produce a warm smile without a hint of jealousy.
‘Hi, guys, the rain’s stopped.’
‘Yes, we saw that, the sky’s clearing. At least that means Ethan shouldn’t have any trouble landing in Perugia.’
Marina cast a covetous eye at the sponge cake and, as she did so, the waitress appeared and offered tea or coffee and, of course, cake. They both chose coffee and big pieces of cake and were out of there within ten minutes. Marina clearly wasn’t taking any chances with traffic hold-ups. She knew better than to keep a Hollywood heart-throb waiting.
Not long after they left, Emma went out to the lobby, and the porter pointed out the way to Mark’s house. He gave her an umbrella, ‘just in case’, but there were already big blue patches in the sky above and the clouds were rapidly changing from grey to white. After the rain, the countryside was already getting back to normal and swallows were wheeling high above her. The sound of water dripping around her was all-pervasive and she wondered how long it would take the ground to soak it up and return to its former arid state.
To get to Mark’s house, she followed a stone-paved path around the side of the villa to the rear where an enclosed courtyard had obviously once been home to horses and carriages. Now there were just a handful of cars, presumably belonging to the staff, and a lovely old red sports car in the far corner alongside a far scruffier little Fiat. Just behind this was the door that the porter had indicated. There was an anonymous bell alongside it, so she pressed it and hoped. A second later, she heard a single woof and then the sound of footsteps running down the stairs towards the door.
‘Hi, Emma. Thanks for coming. Carmen, be a good girl and leave Emma alone. She’s wearing a smart dress.’ Mark glanced at Emma and grinned. ‘In fact, a very smart dress. You look great. Is this for the benefit of the Hollywood star?’
Emma was very pleased he liked it, but she didn’t want him to think she had put it on for Ethan – or indeed for his sake. Instead, she bent down to pet the dog and just produced a throwaway line. ‘I always dress like this in five-star hotels.’
‘Well, my house isn’t exactly five star, I’m afraid. All our energies have been directed at renovating the villa so far this year. This place is next on the list, but it’ll do for now. Come on up. It’s not luxurious, but I like it, and it already feels like my home.’
As Emma emerged from the top of the old staircase, she immediately fell in love with Mark’s house. It might not have been five-star luxury, but it was absolutely charming and redolent with history. The ceiling was supported by big wooden beams and the floor was covered in old terracotta tiles, so ancient in fact that the joists supporting it had clearly sagged over the years and the floor now undulated in gentle waves. The stairway emerged into a huge open-plan living space with a kitchen area to one side incorporating a farmhouse table, and a large lounge on the opposite side with sofas and armchairs. A door at the far end presumably led to Mark’s bedroom but Emma was under no illusions that it would be very, very risky to go in there – not because of Mark, but because of her.
Clearing her suddenly dry throat, she turned to Mark. ‘I love it. What a lovely big open space.’ She indicated the kitchen. ‘Do you cook?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, more than you’d think. Claudio keeps telling me I should go and eat over at the hotel, but I know that would be a slippery slope. I’ve managed to lure a terrific chef away from Perugia to come and work here, and the stuff he prepares in amazing. Hopefully you’ll agree when you sample dinner tonight. A few months or years of eating like that and I’d end up looking like the Michelin man. No, I do a lot of my own stuff, mainly salads at this time of year. When the weather dries up, I’ll show you our walled vegetable garden. We grow as much of the produce we use as we can, and it’s good, with no nasty chemicals. As the Italians say, it’s genuino.’
While he was talking, Carmen came across and leant against Emma’s bare legs. She bent down to ruffle the dog’s fur and, in response, the Labrador slowly slid down until she was lying stretched out on the floor, tail beating softly on the tiles. This did not go unnoticed by her master.
‘I told you she liked pretty girls.’
‘She’s a very pretty girl herself.’
‘What can I get you to drink? Cold beer? Or maybe you’d like a gin and tonic? Or there’s wine, made here on the estate. The cold rosé’s really pretty good.’
Although a gin and tonic sounded appealing, Emma knew there was only one answer to an offer like that, so she opted for the local wine. As he went over to the kitchen to open a bottle, she left the dog sprawled on the floor and wandered round the room, looking at paintings on the walls and photos in frames. There were several of an elderly couple, presumably Mark’s grandparents; a touching one of a young couple with a little boy who had to be his poor dead parents with a very young Mark, but no sign of anybody who could be described as the love of his life. Maybe he kept her photos – if he had any – in his bedroom or just on his phone.
‘Here, cheers, and thanks for coming.’
She took the glass from him and clinked it against his. ‘Cheers and thank you.’ She tasted the wine and gave him a thumbs up. ‘That’s excellent. I love it. And I also love your Alfa Romeo out there – I presume it’s yours. I’ve always had a thing for classic cars but I’ve never been able to afford one. Have you had it long?’
‘Me personally, only since my granddad died. He left it to me along with the villa. He bought it new almost fifty years ago and it was his pride and joy. I don’t use it that often as I’m scared of scratching it. I’m sure he’d never forgive me. I tend to use the little Fiat Panda out there.’
Emma rolled her eyes. ‘You have a classic sports car and you don’t use it. Shame on you.’
He grinned. ‘I tell you what, let’s you and I go out in it sometime this weekend.’
She grinned back. ‘It’s a deal.’ And the idea of going off alone with him was definitely alluring.
As she spoke, a ray of evening sunshine cut across the room as the clouds continued to retreat. Seeing it, Mark made a suggestion.
‘It’s pretty warm in here, isn’t it? I could switch on the aircon or, if you like, we could go out onto the loggia.’
‘The loggia?’
‘Very traditional around here and in Tuscany. Many of the old houses have them. It’s a covered terrace where there’s normally a bit of a breeze, but it provides shelter from the sun.’
‘Sounds great. Lead on.’
To her perturbation, he led her down the room to the door at the far end. This opened into a corridor and the first door they passed was unquestionably his bedroom. His bag was resting on the big double bed and a towel was hanging on the window handle. She took a deep breath and told her body to keep walking. Thankfully, her legs obeyed.