‘It’s easy enough to find out.’ He took his phone from his pocket just as it rang. His expression as he glanced at the screen told her the incoming call was important. ‘I’ll answer this first. It won’t take long.’
Ally nodded and headed for the stairs. She might as well put away the sunhat Angelo had bought her.
But once in her room she couldn’t settle. Her thoughts kept turning to Angelo.
He’d opened himself to her in a way she’d never expected. Understanding his self-blame over the impact of Alexa’s behaviour and how it had coloured his attitude when she’d washed up on his beach made her feel better. She was drawn by his protectiveness to his family, despite believing he laid too heavy a burden on himself.
He was a complex, thoughtful, surprising man.
His apology and his promise to be there for her if she needed him had broken through the brittle casing of fear around her heart. That made her feel stronger and ready to face her past, even if at the same time she realised how vulnerable she was to him.
With Angelo at her side she felt she could face almost anything. But soon they’d have to go their separate ways.
Regret was a sour tang, filling her mouth. Yet at the same time impatience grew. He wasn’t interested in her. She wasn’t one of the chosen few who truly mattered to him. His tender expression when he’d spoken of his family had made her almost jealous of them! How selfish was that?
The longer she stayed here, the harder it would be to hide her feelings. She was living in his home, seeing him every day. Even the clothes she wore had been bought by him. Was it any wonder she felt tied to him?
As Ally paced the lamplight caught the sparkle of purple and blue on her feet. The gorgeous strappy sandals that Angelo had bought her on Capri. They were pretty and jewelled and Ally knew instinctively they were the sort of expensive treat she would never have bought for herself.
She loved them.
She swallowed hard, her throat aching as an upswell of emotion caught her.
It wasn’t just the sandals she loved. It was Angelo.
Ally had tried not to think about it but hiding from such a blatant truth didn’t work.
Nor did telling herself it was impossible to feel so much after such a short time.
Falling for a man who was emotionally attached to his ex-wife was asking for trouble. It could go nowhere. Because, despite the damage she’d caused, Alexa was still important, still at the centre of his thoughts. He’d made love to Ally, believing she was Alexa.
Shehadto get back her memory and leave. Go somewhere where she could try to get over him.
Ally hurried from the room, her skin prickling with urgency as if ants crawled over her.
When she got downstairs she heard the murmur of Angelo’s voice from the study. He’d only been on the phone a few minutes but she couldn’t wait. Besides, she didn’t want to face him now. She’d rather do this on her own.
Soon after, Oliver’s housekeeper led her onto his terrace and turned on the outdoor lights. Signor Branston was tied up on a video call but of course she could wait in the garden until he was free.
Ally resisted the impulse to break into a run as the housekeeper left. Instead she took her time, trying to breathe slowly as she approached the enclosed garden where she’d walked with Oliver.
She paused at the entrance, her palm on the column of a jasmine-covered pergola. The scent filled the evening air but it wasn’t the perfume that had sparked her memory.
Fighting anticipation and nerves, she stepped onto the path and approached the sundial at the centre of the space.
Still nothing. Maybe Angelo was wrong. Maybe it was the conversation with Oliver that had brought back her past. Perhaps...
Ally slammed to a halt as a heavy waft of perfume engulfed her. Her nostrils twitched and something feathered the back of her neck, the dance of phantom fingers across tightening skin. Slowly she inhaled, drawing the pungent aroma deep into her lungs. It was familiar.
Looking down, she saw blue-grey foliage and purple spears of flowers.
Lavender.
On the word came a jumbled rush of memory. Sights. Voices. Faces. Laughter. The warmth of home.
Relief filled Ally and she smiled, the fear she’d held in so tight finally lifting.
There was Uncle Ben on a tractor, his tatty hat shading his face. Long rows of lavender, dark purple and pungent in the midday sun. White blossoms in the orchard, birds singing in the branches. Cobwebs glistening with jewels of dew in the dawn light. The comforting cluck of chickens as they pecked their way through the garden. The smell of wood smoke curling from the old chimney on a winter’s morning and the cuddly warmth of a hand-knitted jumper protecting her from the cold as she stepped onto frost-stiffened grass.