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‘I caught Ritchie having sex with his receptionist on his lunch break,’ Holly told hi ad at Vito had wrecked her composure to such an extent that she barely knehat she was saying any more

CHAPTER THREE

IN RECEIPT OF that startling confession, Vito had the h, but he didn’t want to hurt Holly’s feelings Her cheeks had gone all pink again and her eyes were evasive as if that confession had simply slipped accidentally froh What did you do?’

‘Told hiain’ Holly tilted her chin, anger darkening her blue eyes as she remembered the scene she had interrupted ‘I hate liars and cheats’

‘I’,’ Vito countered, relieved that she had not a clue about the scandal that had persuaded him to leave Florence and even less idea of who he was In recent days he had been forced to spend way too much tiht but not too polite to stare at hie appeal He finally felt that he could relax

‘So, why are you staying here all alone?’ Holly asked, sipping her wine, grateful he had glossed over her gaffe about Ritchie without further comment

‘Burnout I needed a break froave her the explanation he had already decided on in the shower ‘Obviously I wasn’t expecting weather like this’

He was unusually abstracted, however, ensnared by the manner in which the blue of his sweater lit up her lu how she could possibly look al when the thick wool draped her tiny body like a blanket and only occasionally hinted at the treasures that lay beneath What was the real secret of her appeal? he was asking hiht in front of hi eyes and a torrent of dark hair that tumbled round her shoulders in luxuriant loose curls But as enuine as so few people dared to be She put on no show and said nothing for effect; indeed she followed a brand of candour that was blunt to the point of e

‘Why are you staring ather little shoulders for all the world as though she was bracing herself for hi critical

‘A with ahtened to leave the kitchen ‘Sorry… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable’

He was setting up a games console when Holly joined hiame,’ he told her, ‘but perhaps you would rather watch TV—’

‘No, what game is it?’

It was a war game Holly kneell ‘I’ll play you,’ she told him

Vito shot her a startled glance ‘You play?’

‘Of course I do Every foster family had a console and you learned to play with the other kids to fit in,’ she pointed out wryly