He checked his email on his phone as he travelled down in the elevator ready to grab some breakfast in the restaurant, pleased to find there wasn’t anything that needed his urgent attention. That was sure to change by the end of the week, though.
After dropping by the reception desk to confirm they’d have the suite that he’d booked available for him when he returned from his hike, he was about to walk away to get his breakfast when curiosity about Indigo’s situation stopped him. He should probably check whether he was likely to come across her again, just so he could prepare himself for it.
He turned back.
‘Did you find another room here for the woman I shared the honeymoon suite with last night?’ he asked the receptionist.
Confusion flickered across her face, until recollection seemed to strike her. ‘The lady from your suite checked out, Signor.’
That must mean she wasn’t doing the Ravello circuit and coming back to Amalfi today, which meant there wasn’t any danger of bumping into her again.
Good, that was good, because he’d feel compelled to acknowledge her if they saw each other again, which would encroach on his much anticipated alone time.
‘Okay, thanks,’ he said, giving the receptionist a nod before heading over to the breakfast room at the other end of the lobby.
Considering it was still pretty early, the place was already buzzing with guests, and he grabbed the only spare table near the back wall. After seating himself, he took a look around him, soaking up the animated vibe. Quite a few of the guests seemed to be dressed in walking gear, like him. Clearly the coastal walk was a big draw to the area. Hmm, perhaps it wouldn’t be as solitary an experience as he was hoping, he reflected with a twinge of annoyance.
A flash of bright red on the other side of the room caught his eye and, heart thumping, he quickly leant back, using the couple sitting at the table next to him as cover. Grabbing the menu in front of him and holding it to hide most of his face, he gradually leant forwards again to take another look. As he suspected, it was Indigo, standing at the breakfast buffet with her back to him, her hair damp and gleaming and her small rucksack slung over one arm.
She looked refreshed and energised this morning, her skin glowing with health and her posture relaxed. His gaze followed her as she moved smoothly along the buffet, seemingly checking over her options before making her choice. She grabbed an apple and a couple of bread rolls from the display and he stared in baffled amusement as she slipped them into the gaping opening of her bag. After a quick check around, she seemed to discern that no one was watching her and popped a couple of slices of Parma ham and a small bottle of mineral water from the cooler section in there too. Next went in a pat of butter and a little package of cheese.
Evidently deciding she had enough food stashed away, she strolled nonchalantly away from the buffet, slinging her bag over her shoulder and shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her shorts. He half expected her to start whistling Food, Glorious Food as she made her getaway.
She was staying in a five-star hotel, but she was too cheap to buy her own lunch? What was that about?
He allowed himself one last look at her long, shapely legs as she disappeared out of the room, then turned to gesture for the waitress to bring him some coffee.
And that, he guessed, feeling an odd twinge in his chest, would probably be the last he’d ever see of Indigo Hughes.
* * *
Indigo had thought she was in pretty good shape. She went to the gym at least a couple of times a week and opted to walk around London as much as possible instead of jumping on public transport, but by the time she’d climbed what seemed like a thousand steps leading away from Amalfi—pausing on her journey to walk through the ancient brick-walled walkways hung with canopies of vibrant greenery in the Villa Cimbrone gardens—then on to the quaint little town of Ravello, she realised her fitness levels were nothing like as good as she’d imagined.
Still, she’d made it here without incident, and after wandering around the quiet streets crammed with cool artisan shops and visiting the simple but atmospheric cathedral, it was a relief to walk downhill to the little village of Pontone and stop for a rest and to eat her lunch.
Sitting on a wide grassy viewpoint which looked out over the dramatic drop down to the coast, she was just about to take the final bite of the sandwich she’d made out of the food she’d filched from the breakfast buffet when she noticed a familiar figure making his way across the grass in the direction of the trattorias that, according to her guide, were favoured by walkers on the route because of the incredible views from their balconies.
After spending the whole morning trying not to think about the sight of Julien lying bare-chested on the sofa, looking utterly divine in repose as she tiptoed past him, she was disconcerted to see him again in the flesh. Not that she was going to let that stop her from being friendly. She’d made that promise to herself to check he was okay here on his own, so that was what she was going to do. Just because he was ridiculously sexy and ever so slightly intimidating it didn’t mean she couldn’t have a friendly chat with him.
‘Hi there,’ she called as he came level with where she was sitting.
He didn’t appear to hear her.
‘Julien! Hey, Julien, over here!’ she shouted this time. She could have sworn she saw him flinch before turning to look over to where she was sitting. He raised a hand and gave her a nod of acknowledgement, before turning back and continuing on his journey.
Huh.
Perhaps he assumed she wouldn’t want to be disturbed whilst eating her lunch. Yes, that must be it; he couldn’t be deliberately avoiding her.
Could he?
No—she was being paranoid.
Jumping up and grabbing her daypack, she made after him, having to pick up her pace in order to catch up with him before he strode out of sight.
‘Hey, Julien, wait!’ she called, a little out of breath by the time she reached him.
He turned around and gave her a look of expectant concern. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked, his gaze flicking behind her as if he was worried she was being pursued.
‘I’m fine,’ she panted, ‘just wanted to check you’re enjoying your day. You seemed a little—er—’ she flapped a hand at him ‘—stressed yesterday.’
He took a small step backwards and let out a sharp snort. ‘Yes, I’m enjoying it so far.’ A small frown flickered across his face. ‘Thank you.’
There was a pause while she waited for him to ask if she was having a good time too.
He didn’t.
‘Okay, good.’ She clapped her hands together awkwardly. ‘Well, I just wanted to say hi. So, hi!’ she blurted, sincerely hoping he’d assume the blush travelling up her neck was a flush from the sun and her mad dash across the grass.
‘Hi,’ he replied flatly, folding his arms across his chest.
There was another heavy pause where he blinked at her, as if waiting for her to make her excuses and leave. Well, she wasn’t going to. She’d learnt over the last year whilst working at the café that just because someone seemed unfriendly when you first spoke to them, it didn’t necessarily mean they didn’t want to talk to you. They were probably just distracted by something they’d been thinking about, or they were hungry, or concerned about the tightness of their trousers or something. Not that it appeared as though any of his clothes weren’t fitting him perfectly. In fact, he looked as if he’d just stepped off a page in one of the hiking gear magazines she’d pored over whilst preparing for the holiday, before realising she could afford exactly none of the items in it.
‘Did you like Ravello? All those steps up to it nearly killed me!’ she joked, cringing inside at the hint of desperation in her voice.
He