Matteo had seemed so brave then, that little bit older, a bit wilder. And after a while they’d played in the stream together. Explored secret corridors behind the walls of the house. Eaten a glut of berries from the kitchen garden till their hands and lips were stained and their bellies ached.
She could be like that child again. Full of wonder, wanting to explore. Louisa realised somewhere during her journey over the past twelve years she’d lost it, become stuck. She let go of his hand, slipped hers away from his warmth. That summer had created some of her best memories, ever. Together she and Matteo had always been up to something. Getting into all sorts of mischief...
Louisa gasped at a memory long buried.
‘You made me kiss a frog.’
Was it her imagination, or had flags of red just flashed across Matteo’s bronzed cheeks?
He placed his hand on his heart. ‘Never.’
‘No. Youdid. You found one and told me if I kissed it, it’d turn into a prince, marry me and I’d be able to have a tiara and a pony.’
‘You’re a children’s book illustrator. Do you think you might be getting caught up in your own stories?’
There was a niggle of doubt now, that maybe she had it wrong. That unpleasant splinter that told her she wasn’t enough. Not to keep her dad alive, not for her mum... Yet she looked over at Matteo and the corner of his mouth quirked in a sly grin. Like that recalcitrant frog prince she’d been trying and failing to draw just the way she wanted him.
She pointed at him, waggling her finger. ‘You. You’re fibbing.’
He chuckled again, and the sound of it, that unrestrained mirth, made her toes curl into the pebbles beneath her feet in the cold waters of the lake.
‘It wasn’t one of my finest moments. But to be fair, I didn’t think you’d fall for it.’
She planted her hands on her hips. ‘You knew I’d do it.’
‘How could I? It was clearly made up.’
‘I was six.’ She kicked her foot at him, and some water splashed over his calves. ‘I hero-worshipped you.’
She looked down at his shorts, not wet exactly, but the fabric darkened where some fat droplets of water had hit the fabric.
‘Hero-worshipped me?’ Something about the tone of his voice deepened. Became rougher, a bit like the gravel on the drive into his villa.
‘You know it, and you loved it. You pretended not to, but you liked the fact I listened to everything you saidandbelieved it.’
She kicked her foot again, and another splash of water hit his legs.
His gaze narrowed, became more intense, but that wicked quirk of his lips remained. ‘You’re playing a dangerous game.’
Louisa cocked her head, ‘And what game is that?’
‘If you don’t stop now, it’s one where you’re about to get very wet.’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’
He reached his hand into the water and flicked some at her. She kicked back at him, and this time water hit his shirt.
‘Right.’
He began surging towards her so she grabbed her skirts higher and giggled, running up onto the stones of the beach as he followed. She tried to run faster but her dress was too long, and she wasn’t really trying very hard anyhow. Her heart pounded as pebbles crunched behind her and she took off. Heart thump, thump thumping in her chest. Trying to make it to the stairs, laughing now because there was something about this that was such a thrill. Everything forgotten but the chase.
She suspected Matteo wasn’t trying very hard either. It was more about the anticipation than the capture...
Till an arm snaked round her waist and she was pulled against a solid, muscular body.
She squealed and kicked her feet as he swung her into his arms and moved back to the water’s edge, waded in, the sound of it rushing with each strong stride.
‘Don’t you dare!’ she squealed.
