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‘But—were you with someone when we met at the rugby?’
‘Technically, no.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean? I read about a supermodel—’
‘You don’t want to believe everything you read.’
‘But—’
His tone was impatient. ‘What can you possibly gain from this line of questioning?’
Reassurance? She gave a painful laugh as she realised the foolishness of that. Reassurance about what—that he loved her? He didn’t. She knew he didn’t. ‘I was just—interested.’
‘You were just being a woman. Forget it.’ He rose to his feet. ‘Remember that the past is always behind you. Are you ready?’
‘For what?’ She decided that this wasn’t the right time to point out that the past wasn’t behind him, even if he believed that it was. It was obvious to her that it was with him every agonising minute of the day. ‘Where are we going?’
His gaze lingered on her face. ‘To spend some time together. Isn’t that what you wanted? You said that I don’t spend any time with you during the day,’ he reminded her softly. ‘And that we’ve never actually been on a date. So we’re going to rectify that.’
‘We’re going on a date?’ Holly couldn’t stop the smile. ‘Where?’
‘The most romantic city in the world. Rome.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘THIS is your idea of a date? When you said we were visiting romantic Rome, I imagined wandering hand in hand to the Spanish Steps and the Colosseum. Not sitting in a rugby stadium,’ Holly muttered, taking her seat and waving enthusiastically to the very vocal crowd.
Casper gave her a rare smile. ‘You wanted to be alone with me. We’re alone.’
‘This is your idea of alone?’ Holly glanced at the security team surrounding them, and then at the enormous crowd who were cheering as the players jogged onto the pitch. ‘Are you delusional?’
‘Stadio Flaminio is a small stadium—intimate.’
Holly started to laugh. ‘I suppose everything is relative. It’s small compared with Twickenham. This time we’re only in the company of thirty thousand people. But is this really your idea of romantic? A rugby match?’
‘We met during a rugby match,’ Casper reminded her, and their eyes clashed as both of them remembered the sheer breathless intensity of that meeting. ‘I am mixing my two passions. Rugby and you.’
He didn’t actually mean her, did he? He meant her body.
‘I—I’ve never actually watched a game before,’ Holly confessed shakily, dragging her eyes from his and wondering what it was about him that reduced her to jelly. ‘I was always working. I don’t even know the rules.’
‘One team has to score more points than the other,’ Casper said dryly, leaning forward as the game started, his gaze intent on the pitch.
‘By all piling on top of each other?’ Holly winced as she watched the players throw themselves into the game with no apparent care for their own safety. ‘It’s all very macho, isn’t it? Lots of mud, blood and muscle.’
‘They’re following strict rules. Watch. You might find it exciting.’
And she did.
At first she sat in silence, determined not to ruin his enjoyment by asking inane questions, and equally determined to try and understand what he loved about the game. But, far from ignoring her, he seemed keen to involve her in everything that was going on.
There was a sudden roar from the crowd as a man powered down the field with the ball.
‘He’s fast,’ Holly breathed, and Casper’s shoulders tensed and then he punched the air.
‘He’s scored the opening try.’
‘That’s when he puts the ball down on the line—and that’s five points, right?’
