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He put a teabag into the cup and poured the water over it.

“I guess so,” but she was smiling. “Part of the appeal of the place I rented is that it’s secluded. I love that. I feel like I’m right on the edge of the earth.” She angled her face towards the window, staring out at the stormy view. “I go into town for supplies, but other than that, I like my own company.”

“For six months?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you walk.”

“Yep.”

“Why here?”

Her skin paled perceptibly and he wondered about that, about what she wasn’t saying.

“I mean, my villa? Not Ondechiara.”

“Oh.” She sipped her tea, her eyes holding his over the edge of the mug. “I remember seeing it the first day I arrived. This big, beautiful building high on the cliffs. I was fascinated by it – the way it seems to be cast from the stone that surrounds the town, yet totally modern at the same time. It’s a beautiful contradiction.”

“But you haven’t been here before?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I felt like a long walk today,” she shrugged. “I don’t remember even consciously deciding to set out for this place.”

“There’s security fencing.” Admittedly, it wasn’t particularly robust, but it should have served as a deterrent, nonetheless.

“I came up the steps. From the beach.”

He swore under his breath. “They’re disused for a reason, Maddie. They’re incredibly dangerous. Didn’t you notice the fallen rocks?”

She flinched – just a small, involuntary movement that had him softening his tone. “There’s a locked gate.”

“It was an open gate when I got there.”

“The wind must have blown it off its hinges.” He shook his head, because that shouldn’t have been possible and yet the only option was that she’d scaled a six foot construction – which didn’t seem likely.

“I didn’t notice,” she admitted, a hint of guilt crossing her face.

“I’ll have it fixed.”

“So how do you get down to the beach?”

“I would drive, if I wanted to go there.”

“But you’re right here, above it. Why don’t you get the stairs fixed?”

He frowned. “I would, if I used the beach.” He took a drink of his espresso. “By the way, that whole stretch of the beach is private too. There were definitely signs, right? Or had they also been blown away?”

A hint of blush spread through her cheeks. “No, there were signs saying ‘private property’. I presumed they were placed in error. I mean, beaches shouldn’t be private, right?”

He laughed. “Why do I get the feeling you’re trouble, Maddie?”

“Because I don’t like to listen to bossy signs?”

He made a growling noise of assent.

“I truly presumed this was an art gallery or something.”

“An art gallery that was only accessible by perilous steps from the beach?”


Tags: Clare Connelly The Montebellos Romance