The Italians: Alessandro, Luca & Dizo. Rebecca Winters

disturbing awareness that arose whenever she was in his presence.

      He seemed imprinted in her mind … there, a vivid haunting constant that heightened her senses, teasing how his mouth would feel on her own, the touch of his hands.

       Stop right there!

      Such thoughts hardly made sense, and she did her best to dispense with them, attempting to qualify the fact she slept in a guest suite on the same floor as his suite as being responsible for her heightened awareness.

      Anything else was madness.

      Tiredness eventually won out, and she woke feeling ready to face the day.

      Showered and dressed, she moved downstairs and discovered her aunt seated in the dining room sipping coffee.

      ‘Good morning, cara',’ Sophia greeted with a smile. ‘You slept well?’

      ‘Yes, thanks … and you?’

      Sophia inclined her head and indicated the chair opposite. ‘Join me for breakfast. Alessandro left early for the office.’

      The faint knot in her stomach relaxed a little, for the thought of facing him across the breakfast table hadn’t sat well.

      The tempting aroma of coffee permeated the air, and there was a carafe of orange juice, together with a few cloche-covered dishes resting on the table.

      It was a perfect way to begin the day.

      ‘Carlo will collect us in half an hour and be at our disposal before we head back to Lake Como,’ Sophia relayed, and Lily offered an impish grin.

      ‘Sounds like fun.’

      Her aunt laughed. ‘It will be. Serious shopping is on the agenda.’

      No idle promise, Lily perceived as Sophia focused their attention on the quadrilatero situated in the heart of Milan.

      ‘We will begin with Via Montenapoleone,’ Sophia stated knowledgeably, sparing Carlo a twinkling smile. ‘Familiar territory, is it not?’

      ‘Indeed. I have extensive knowledge of every shop.’

      ‘Carlo is very patient,’ her aunt confided with a light laugh. ‘He is my driver, he accompanies me on shopping excursions, and he also acts as bodyguard.’

      Bodyguard?

      ‘Merely a protective measure,’ Carlo informed.

      The question had to be why it was deemed necessary.

      ‘Do not look so concerned,’ Sophia bade gently. ‘Since Giuseppe’s death, Alessandro and Carlo have taken it upon themselves to escort me wherever I choose to go.’

      Two strong masculine men, each a recipient of Giuseppe and Sophia’s benevolence during their youth, who cared enough to give of their time, their resources, to ensure Sophia’s safety and well-being.

      It was a commendable act, and one Lily could only admire.

      ‘Let’s begin, shall we?’

      She gave her aunt an infectious smile. ‘Lead the way.’

      It came as no surprise when Sophia was greeted by name and afforded deferential treatment at many of the shops they visited.

      ‘The Charity Gala, signora? For you?’

      ‘And my niece, Lily.’

      ‘Ah, I have the perfect gown. So elegant.’ She paused as she considered Lily’s slender curves and height. ‘For Lily, perhaps something from the Spring Collection. An opaque floral silk chiffon in delicate shades of powder blue, lavender, with a hint of pink. There is simplicity in the style, and with your hair swept high …’ Her head tilted a little. ‘Or the red, sì, the red would be stunning with your colouring. We shall view them both.’

      Of the two, Lily adored the red silk chiffon with its bias cut skirt, ruched bodice. Elegant, the design showcased her delicate shoulders, narrow waist, and Sophia clapped her hands together as she accorded it perfectto.

      ‘We will take both.’ Her eyes twinkled with pleasure and she lifted a hand at Lily’s protest. ‘It is my gift to you.’ A light laugh escaped her as she took hold of Lily’s hand and lifted it to her lips. ‘All these years I am your godmother, and there have been so few opportunities for us to spend time together.’

      ‘Zia, please. It is much too generous.’ She turned towards the vendeuse. ‘The red gown, for which I shall pay.’

      ‘Cara, we will not argue.’

      ‘We have exquisite stilettos to match the gown.’ As if by magic the delicate shoes were presented for approval, and as promised, they were perfect.

      ‘Lily, you may pay for the stilettos,’ Sophia conceded graciously. ‘But that is all I will allow.’

      It was an exceedingly beautiful gift and a very special

      memory she would treasure for a very long time, and she said so as she hugged her aunt with genuine appreciation.

      ‘Now I shall stand strong,’ Lily insisted as they emerged onto the street. ‘Lunch is on me, at a restaurant of your choice.’ She paused fractionally, then lobbied with an impish twinkle, ‘We will not argue, sì?’

      Sophia gave a delighted laugh. ‘You remind me so much of your mother, when, as single young women, we shopped together.’

      Carlo retrieved their signature-emblazoned carry-bags, and spared both women a musing look. ‘Success?’

      ‘Indeed,’ Sophia agreed. ‘Yet we are far from done.’

      Carlo merely smiled. ‘Of course not.’

      Together they strolled towards Via Manzoni, pausing frequently to browse the shops, venturing into a few, purchasing items that enchanted the eye, as Sophia and Carlo pointed out places of historic interest, the aristocratic palazzi along Via Manzoni, the Grand Hotel, the Archi di Porta Nuova, a city gate once part of the medieval walls.

      There was a sense of timelessness, a lingering knowledge of centuries past, and how life must have been then in comparison to today’s era.

      Lunch offered a leisurely respite, and they sampled excellent cuisine, shared a light white wine, concluding with coffee before they emerged onto the street to visit a famed museo where paintings graced the walls and precious ceramics were featured.

      It was Sophia who suggested they dine before returning to Lake Como, and Carlo drove them to a charming little osteria owned by a couple who made divine pasta sauce. So much so, Lily savoured the taste with a view to determining an elusive ingredient.

      ‘I have tried to persuade the chef to divulge the secret of his sauce,’ Sophia confided. ‘All he will do is smile, lift his

      hands and offer “a bit of this, a touch of that”. Incredible, is it not?’

      ‘A hint of chilli, unless I’m mistaken,’ Lily posed in contemplation. ‘With perhaps a sprinkle of brown sugar to sweeten. And scallions, I think, for their crisp light taste.’

      ‘You would like to experiment in my kitchen?’

      Lily offered an impish smile. ‘Perhaps we can experiment together. Tomorrow?’

      ‘I’d like nothing better.’

      ‘Such an honour,’ Carlo declared. ‘Only Alessandro has been permitted to try his hand in Sophia’s kitchen.’

      Lily raised an eyebrow. ‘Alessandro?’

      ‘He worked kitchens in places no respectable person knew existed,’ Sophia revealed, sobering a little. ‘Liaised deals with undesirables likely to double-deal or worse, rather than pay up. And sleep anywhere he could find a place to lay his head.’

      ‘Always on the alert,