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They’d set her up yet again, she knew they had. Rita and Mary. The two mother figures in her life. And they’d done it without even bothering to meet the man in question. Somehow they’d both decided that an attractive single guy was going to be perfect for her. It didn’t matter that they’d never even met him, that they knew absolutely nothing about him. He was single and she was single and that was all it should take for the magic to kick in.
Anger spurted inside her and Alice thumped the steering-wheel with the heel of her hand and crunched the gears again. They were a pair of interfering old—old…
She really wanted to stay angry but how could she be when she knew that they were only doing it because they cared? When she remembered just how good they’d been to her since her very first day in the practice?
No, better to go along with their little plan and prove to them once and for all that love just didn’t work for her. Gio Moretti was right. If she did this, maybe then they’d finally get the message about the way she wanted to live her life.
Yes, that was it. They obviously believed that Gio Moretti was the answer to any woman’s prayers. When they realised that he wasn’t the answer to hers, maybe they’d leave her alone. She’d live with him if only to prove that she wasn’t interested. Since they considered him irresistible, her ability to resist him with no problem should prove something, shouldn’t it?
Satisfied with her plan, she gave a swift nod and a smile as she flicked the indicator and took the narrow, winding road that led down to her house.
Her grip on the steering-wheel relaxed slightly. And living with him wouldn’t be so bad. Gio seemed like a perfectly civilised guy. He was intelligent and well qualified. His experience in medicine was clearly very different to hers. She would certainly be able to learn from him.
And as for the logistics of the arrangement, she would put him in the guest room at the top of the house that had an en suite bathroom so she need never see him. He could come and go without bothering her. They need never have a conversation that didn’t involve a patient. And when Mary and Rita saw how things were, they’d surely give up their quest to find her love.
Having satisfied herself that the situation wasn’t irredeemable, she stepped on the brake, pulled in to allow another car to pass on the narrow road and drove the last stretch of road that curved down towards the sea.
The crowds of tourists dwindled and immediately she felt calmer.
This was her life. Her world.
The tide was out, the mudflats stretched in front of her and birds swooped and settled on the sandbanks. Behind her were towering cliffs of jagged rock that led out into the sea, and in front of her was the curving mouth of the river, winding lazily inland.
Cornwall.
Home.
Checking that he was still behind her, she touched the brake with her foot, turned right down the tiny track that led down to the water’s edge and turned off the engine.
The throaty roar of the sports car behind her died and immediately peace washed over her. For a moment she was tempted to kick her shoes off and walk barefoot, but, as usual, time pressed against her wishes. She had a new lodger to show round and some reading that she needed to finish. And she was going to have to cook something for dinner.
With a shudder of distaste she stepped out of the car feeling hot, sticky and desperate for a cool shower. Wondering when the weather was finally going to break, she turned and watched as Gio slid out of his car and glanced around him. It was a long moment before he spoke.
‘This place is amazing.’ His hair gleamed glossy dark in the sunlight and the soft fabric of his T-shirt clung to his broad, powerful shoulders. There was a strength about him, an easy confidence that came with maturity, and Alice was suddenly gripped by a shimmer of something unfamiliar.
‘Most people consider it to be lonely and isolated. They lecture me on the evils of burying myself somewhere so remote.’
‘Do they?’ He stood for a moment, legs planted firmly apart in a totally masculine stance, his gaze fixed on the view before him. ‘I suppose that’s fortunate. If everyone loved it here, it would cease to be so peaceful. You must see some very rare birds.’
‘Over fifty different species.’ Surprised by the observation, she leaned into her car to retrieve her bag, wondering whether he was genuinely interested in wildlife or whether he was just humouring her. Probably the latter, she decided. The man needed accommodation.
She slammed her car door without bothering to lock it and glanced at his face again. He looked serious enough.
He removed a suitcase from his boot. ‘How long have you lived here?’
‘Four years.’ She delved in her bag for the keys and walked up the path. ‘I found this house on my second day here. I was cycling along and there it was. Uninhabited, dilapidated and set apart from everything and everyone.’ Just like her. She shook off the thought and wriggled the key into the lock. ‘It took me a year to do it up sufficiently to live in it, another two years to get it to the state it’s in now.’
He removed his sunglasses and glanced at her in surprise. ‘You did the work yourself?’
She caught the look and smiled. ‘Never judge by appearances, Dr Moretti. I have hidden muscles.’ She pushed open the front door and stooped to pick up the post. ‘I’ll show you where you’re sleeping and then meet you in the kitchen. I can fill you in on everything you need to know while we eat.’
She deposited the post, unopened, on the hall table and made a mental note to water the plants before she went to bed.
‘It’s beautiful.’ His eyes scanned the wooden floors, which she’d sanded herself and then painted white, lifted to the filmy white curtains that framed large, picture windows and took in the touches of blue in the cushions and the artwork on the walls. He stepped forward to take a closer look at a large watercolour she had displayed in the hall. ‘It’s good. It has real passion. You can feel the power of the sea.’ He frowned at the signature and turned to look at her. ‘You paint?’
‘Not any more.’ She strode towards the stairs, eager to end the conversation. It was becoming too personal and she was always careful to avoid the personal. ‘No time. Your room is at the top of the house and it has its own bathroom. It should be perfectly possible for us to lead totally separate lives.’
She said it to reassure herself as much to remind him and took the stairs two at a time and flung open a door. ‘Here we are. You should be comfortable enough here and, anyway, it’s only short term.’ She broke off and he gave a smile.
