Second Chances in Chianti (Escape to Tuscany Book 2) by T.A. Williams (online e reader .TXT) 📕

As they talked, she studied him surreptitiously and her eyes were drawn to the third finger of his left hand, where she saw no ring. Of course, this didn’t prove anything these days, but it was maybe a step in the right direction. And the direction in which she wished to travel – she now allowed herself to admit without a sense of guilt – was towards him. The attraction she had been feeling for him was continuing to grow and she knew she wanted to get closer. For his part, he was definitely looking and sounding more interested in her, and that initial awkwardness she had sensed was no longer evident. As he told her about the best places to buy wild boar pâté, fresh vegetables and the tastiest cantuccini biscuits, she just soaked up his presence and liked what she found. He was intelligent, attentive and good-looking – and, wonder of wonders, he genuinely appeared not to know who she was. She felt a thrill at the thought that, just for once, she had met a man who was interested in Alice, rather than Polly.

All too soon, he looked at his watch again and stood up. ‘I’m sorry I have to dash, but I’ve got a load of things to do and I’m very conscious that Guinness might be chewing his way through my furniture while I’m away.’ He gave her a little grin that warmed her heart. ‘He doesn’t like being left alone.’

‘Who does?’ Although hadn’t she just decided that she was perfectly happy to stay here on her own for a whole month? To her surprise, she saw the grin disappear from his face.

‘Sometimes being on your own can be good.’

He didn’t elaborate and just shook her hand rather formally. Before she could say any more, he waved goodbye and headed off across the square. She sat there and sipped the last of her water, full of mixed emotions. On the one hand, she was delighted to have run into him, and to have found him receptive and interested, but the fact remained that she knew no more about him now than she had done before. It was as if he was steering clear of any kind of intimacy. He hadn’t asked where she was going to be living or arranged to see her again. It had been a pleasant interlude, but the net result was the status quo. The only plus point was that it sounded as though there wasn’t a special someone back at the tower waiting for him – otherwise why worry about the dog eating the furniture? It wasn’t much, but it was a glimmer of light.

She followed his advice and bought two bottles of Chianti Classico and a couple of bottles of white wine from a store dedicated to locally produced wines. By the time she had filled her bag with other supplies, she had a hard time staggering back to the car with all her shopping. Back home, she unloaded the food into the fridge and decided to go for a walk, rather than a run, as the temperature was very high. Because she was already familiar with it – or so she told herself – she retraced her steps up the hill, past the entrance to the villa of the wasps and onwards up the road. When she got to the track leading off to the left towards the old tower, she had no hesitation in heading in that direction, but there was no sign of man nor dog. She paused by the gate and even toyed for a moment with the idea of pressing the bell, before telling herself that would just be far too needy. Instead, she returned home feeling frustrated, but also annoyed with herself for the way this Matt thing was starting to obsess her.

Over the next couple of days, she repeated the process, but each time without success. In fact, she didn’t see a single person or vehicle as she walked, or ran, up and down the road each morning. It became a recurring disappointment and she couldn’t help feeling almost abandoned. After seeing Matt in Greve, she had been hoping to bump into him again as soon as possible, but he had disappeared and she almost wondered if this was on purpose. She did her best to ignore him but found it impossible. Her brain stubbornly refused to give her peace.

Each time she passed the entrance to the villa of the wasps, she wondered if Conrad Chesterfield had arrived and, if so, in what sort of mood? Hopefully she wouldn’t run into him, seeing as she had turned down his job offer. She dropped into the cafe every morning around nine o’clock for a cappuccino and chatted to Rita behind the bar, who was quickly becoming a good friend. Needless to say, the Englishman living in the tower came up in conversation, but Rita confirmed that he hadn’t been in for a few days. Helpfully, she suggested he might have gone away on holiday. The irony was not lost on Alice that she might have chosen to take her holiday here at the exact same time as he and his canine companion had decided to go off somewhere else. She managed to choke off a snort, but it was one of annoyance at herself for what was becoming a fixation.

Determined to try to put the Matt thing behind her, she set off on a series of visits to places of interest in the area and it was while she was in the ancient little church of San Leolino – with its delightful cloister, just outside the charming hilltop town of Panzano – that she made a discovery. After admiring the stunning glazed terracotta works by Giovanni della Robbia and a magnificent fourteenth-century triptych above the altar, she went out into the tiny cloister and came upon a carved stone slab on the ground with a familiar crest