The Italians: Luca, Marco and Alessandro. Natalie Anderson

background, forgot about the woman she’d seen near him, only heard the humour in his voice, only saw the sexy smile… To be talking suggestively like this was so foreign, but so much fun. She wanted it to continue.

      She tried an almost saucy reply. ‘If that’s the case, then perhaps you should be careful.’

      His smile went wicked. ‘Definitely.’ He held out his hand. ‘Luca Bianchi.’

      She glanced to his hand and then back to his face, letting her own smile go sinful. ‘You’re not afraid I might bite?’

      ‘I’m half hoping you will.’

      She lifted her hand. ‘Emily Dodds.’ The frisson raced up her arm as contact was made.

      ‘Emily.’ The way he said it made her toes and everything inside her curl up tight. His hand gripped hers firmly. ‘Did you enjoy the opera?’

      ‘I loved it.’

      He nodded. ‘It was a good performance.’

      ‘And a lovely atmosphere.’

      ‘My company could have been a little better. How about yours?’

      ‘It wasn’t bad.’

      ‘But it could have been better.’

      ‘Perhaps.’ Faux demurely, she looked down. ‘Are you going to give me my hand back?’

      ‘I was thinking I might keep it and take it home with me.’

      ‘Not tonight.’ She refused, but she couldn’t hold back her smile. Pleasure thrilled through her—to be so overtly admired, courted, frankly chased…by a man as attractive as this was heady stuff.

      ‘No? What a shame.’ His mouth curved too. ‘But there’s always tomorrow.’

      For a long moment she stared into his melting chocolate eyes, a million ‘if onlys’ circulating in her head. His fingers tightened.

      ‘See, I told you!’ Kate bubbled up, shaking her upturned hat in front of her. ‘Enough for a five-course feast in a fancy restaurant.’

      Emily tugged her hand and after a gentle squeeze he let it slip from his.

      ‘Singing for your supper?’ he asked dryly.

      ‘Lunch tomorrow!’ Kate answered. ‘Hi, I’m Kate.’

      ‘Hello, Kate. I’m Luca. I’m a friend of your sister’s.’

      Emily glanced at him. Friend? There was a tease in his eyes directed totally at her. ‘Let me get you two a drink. You must be thirsty after performing in the heat like this.’

      ‘Oh, we—’ The sensible side of Emily thought she should refuse. But there was a whisker of a wink again. It was enough to tip her over. She was in Italy—her dream holiday destination—and she was flirting with the dreamiest guy imaginable. Little Miss Sassy elbowed Little Miss Sensible out of the way for good. ‘Thanks.’

      Luca tried and failed to remember when he’d ever done anything as crazy as this. It had been so long, yet all of a sudden he was chasing hard for something that could only be momentary. But, hell, it would be fun. And wasn’t he due for a little fun? While the waiter fetched the wine, Luca tried to remind himself that in reality one-night stands were never as good as you thought they were going to be, but gave up after half a thought. Fact was, he hadn’t wanted a woman quite like this, quite in this way, ever. An instant, visceral demand—his whole body was tight with anticipation.

      It was going to happen; he’d make certain of it. Therefore he didn’t need to be staring at her like some starving dog. However, controlling that urge was something of a problem when she looked at him like that—green eyes glittering with both challenge and caution.

      ‘What brings you to Verona?’ He made small but necessary talk.

      ‘We’re on our way to London,’ the sister answered. ‘I want to sing there.’

      He spared a quick glance for the pretty young redhead and her pale blue eyes. She could do it if she wanted. ‘You have the talent to sing anywhere. But do you have the determination?’

      ‘Absolutely.’

      His gaze was drawn back to the other direction—Emily. Scattered across her nose were a few freckles that he’d like to kiss and beneath that a mouth that he wanted to kiss even more. She didn’t have the girlish skinny physique of her sister. She’d still be considered trim but with more curves and length. Hips to cushion his, legs to wrap around his waist, hair to wind round his wrist and tug on so he could access her neck and kiss his way down to her full breasts.

      As Kate babbled on about her career plans he sipped his wine and watched the faint dusky pink blush spread over Emily’s face. The more he watched, the more it spread and the deeper the colour grew. His own temperature began to lift.

      ‘You want a wonderful lunch, Kate?’ He finally interrupted the incessant flow. ‘I know just the place. You and Emily meet me outside here tomorrow at one and I’ll take you.’

      ‘Really?’ Kate’s desire was too easy to please. He had the suspicion her sister might be more of a challenge—but a very welcome one.

      ‘Absolutely. It would be my pleasure.’ He directed that last word right to Emily, allowing in the faint provocation. All the pleasure would be in seeing her.

      She lifted her gaze from her seemingly minute contemplation of her empty glass. Her eyes were such a deep green—thoughtful, assessing, seeking. He met them squarely. If they were alone it would be so easy. But they weren’t alone—not yet—and he had to hold back from moving the way he wanted. So for the first time in his life he found himself almost begging. ‘It’ll be the best you’ve ever had.’

      ‘Tomorrow?’ It was the kid sister all excited.

      ‘Yes.’ He refused to break the bond with Emily, only vaguely satisfied when he saw the faint upward tweak of her lips. ‘Tomorrow.’

      When Emily walked to the piazza with Kate, they found Luca waiting, as promised, in front of the Arena. But he was not alone. On either side of him stood a beautiful woman. A cold, hard ball grew in Emily, freezing her throat, her chest, her tummy. What was he doing—building a harem? And yet as she walked towards him his eyes seemed to be eating her up. When his long, intense stare finally made it up to her face she was all hot again. Desire, curiosity, a wanting for a kind of wickedness—and above all vexation about those two other women. What made it worse was that she knew he’d read her expression, and right now he looked totally smug.

      When they got within earshot it was to Kate that he turned. ‘Kate, meet Maria and Anne—both singers with the opera of the Arena di Verona. How would you like to spend the afternoon touring backstage and join in a rehearsal?’

      Kate’s eyes were shining. ‘Really?’

      Luca laughed, indulgence audible. ‘Yes, really. But wait, there’s more.’ His tone was full of irony. He handed her an envelope. ‘I have a contact that you might find useful in London. Here are the details. Be sure to get in touch because he’s expecting to hear from you.’

      ‘Really?’ Kate’s shriek was right up there at the top of her vocal range.

      ‘Maria and Anne will ensure you get some lunch. Perhaps not five courses in a fancy restaurant, but something.’

      ‘Oh, it doesn’t matter. I’m not that hungry anyway.’

      ‘Fine, so run along, then. These two will take care of you.’

      And she was just like a child, thrilled to have had her most prized wish granted. Not even sparing Emily a second glance.

      ‘Kate, will you be—?’ Emily didn’t get the ‘OK’ out.

      ‘Em, don’t be a nag. I’m nearly nineteen, remember? Back home I can drink, drive and vote.’