Well done, Gabby. She’d now persuaded him to spend time with her. A little voice questioned her motives—maybe that was what she actually wanted?
Holding out her hand, she forced her expression to remain cool. ‘If you like, I’ll do a bit of research...figure out the best things to do.’ That way at least she could retain some semblance of control.
‘Sure. That would be good.’
Taking care not to so much as brush against his fingers, she took the folder and rose to her feet. ‘Now that’s settled, if it’s OK with you, I’ll hit your spare room. I’ll be out of your hair first thing tomorrow morning.’
Literally—her plan was to sneak out at daybreak.
‘Then, next stop—Portugal.’
* * *
A week later, Zander glanced across at Gabby as she clicked her seat belt on and settled back in the luxurious first-class seat. Simply dressed in cropped linen trousers and a blue-and-cream-striped T-shirt, she looked utterly gorgeous.
Over the past days he’d immersed himself in work, taken some time out to spend with his niece and nephew, caught a beer with Alessio—but Gabby had popped into his head with a persistent, disconcerting frequency.
Logic told him that it was all to do with physical attraction, and further informed him that, however mutual the attraction, it would be a bad idea to succumb.
Instinct warned that it would bring complications of the type he didn’t want. Gabby had made it more than clear that a short-term relationship was not what she wanted. She wanted a relationship like her grandparents had had. He respected that, but he knew he couldn’t offer it. So the best way forward was to keep a lid on the attraction.
He opened his netbook and settled down to work—yet he couldn’t resist the occasional glimpse out of the corner of his eye. The gloss of her chestnut hair, the length of her long slim legs, the small frown of concentration that creased her forehead as she read her book...
The two-hour flight was achieved in near silence, broken only by polite banalities over the quality of the food. Gabby had clearly decided the best way to get through their ‘romantic break’ was the use of platitudes to combat the danger of proximity. It seemed as good a strategy as any.
‘Nice airport,’ he said as they alighted from the aircraft.
‘I don’t have a lot of airport experience, but I’m sure you know what you’re talking about.’
Their discussion on airports and Tarmac was sustained through customs and baggage control and then segued seamlessly into comments on the hire car.
Once they were en route to Sintra, he sensed Gabby relax, as if now his focus was on driving and navigation she could afford to drop her guard and enjoy the scenery and the heat of the Portuguese sunshine as they made their way to their destination.
And what a destination it was.
Gabby gave a small gasp as they arrived. ‘This is...amazing. I knew Sintra was in a natural park, with beautiful scenery, but I didn’t realise it would be like this.’
Neither had he. Hills covered in lush forest contrasted with a rugged coastline. Verdant greens, azure blues, rich browns all combined in a kaleidoscopic panorama of vibrant colour.
‘The villa is on the outskirts of Sintra, so thankfully we don’t have to drive through town. The owner recommended walking and using public transport.’
But despite the factual nature of his words, Zander could feel himself relax, too, almost against his will. The scent of eucalyptus and the inexplicable sense of time slowed down pervaded the very air in the car, and for a moment he almost wished this was a real break, a real holiday. That he and Gabby were a real...
He wrenched his thoughts from the impossible and focused on navigating the narrow winding country road that led to the villa.
‘Holy moly...’ Gabby whispered as they climbed out of the car. Her hazel eyes were wide with wonder, her lips slightly parted. ‘It’s...fantastical, phantasmal—I mean, I can’t believe it’s real.’
It truly was idyllic. Whitewashed stone walls, a low roof, a doorway trailing with plants, wooden framed windows that gleamed pristinely, a mosaic patio garden. The scent of pine, the drone of bees, sun-dappled greenery. The villa could have been lifted from a book of fairy tales.
‘And look!’
Her hand landed on Zander’s bare forearm and the touch sent an instant ripple of sensation over his skin, a tantalising hint of a promise that he knew couldn’t be kept.
The expression on her face was so alight with enthusiasm and awe that he found it hard to take his eyes from her and follow the direction of her gaze. But he did, taking in the magnificence of the view, the steep descent of the valley, the shine of the sea in the late-morning sunshine, the medieval walls of the Moorish castle that overlooked the town.
‘Breathtaking.’
Yet even now he wasn’t sure if it was Gabby or the scene before him that had caused his lungs to constrict, and he turned back to the villa.