Chapter One

‘A rgh!’ Romy screamed as she sat on the edge of the bed. Something under the duvet was moving.  She sprung up, her heart beating through her chest, as she floundered around for something to protect herself with.

‘What the hell?’ came a male voice as someone fumbled on the side table and then switched the lamp on, falling the room with stark brightness. Romy leaned on the chest of drawers to stop herself keeling over, and blinked rapidly in case she was hallucinating. A very sleepy and naked-looking man pushed himself out from under the duvet and stood up, making Romy’s eyes go wide. It was Luca Bowen. Thankfully, he was wearing black Calvin Klein boxers, because Romy already felt like she might have a coronary. She was clasping a small vase that she’d grabbed to protect herself with, but now she glanced down at it in disgust. It wouldn’t make a dent in his impressive six-pack – but she was still tempted to throw it at his head.

‘Romy?’ he asked in a puzzled voice as he rubbed his eyes. Then he ran a hand through his short black hair, making it all mussed up and sexy. He squinted as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. She faltered for a second and tried to work out why he’d been sleeping soundly – and very rudely – in her bed! ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked in a gravelly voice.

Her eyebrows rose in shock. ‘What am I doing here?’ she raged, her fists bunching once she’d placed the vase safely back on the set of drawers. Then she took a moment to rein in her anger. She didn’t know if it was the adrenaline from the fright that was making her feel like she’d just run a marathon, or the sight of the very uninvited Luca in her bedroom. ‘What the hell are you doing in my bed?’ She stomped over to stand straight in front of him, and then wished she hadn’t because he was over six feet tall to her five eight, and her chin was now remarkably close to his naked chest.

‘Your bed?’ he asked in confusion, before his big brown eyes focused back on her and humour sparked in his eyes. ‘Is this a joke to get me back for my comments about your ridiculous duck tea boat?’ His eyes scanned down and noted her black silky pyjama shorts set and he frowned.

‘Stop messing around,’ snapped Romy. ‘Get out of here!’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he retorted. ‘This is my bed.’

‘It isn’t!’ she bit back. ‘I moved in yesterday. It’s definitely mine.’ Luca frowned again and then turned to look in confusion at the simple sage green duvet set he’d just climbed out of.

‘You can’t have,’ insisted Luca, making no move to put on any clothes, so she picked up a black T-shirt that had been discarded on the back of a chair and threw it at his head as she backed away. It had been a long day and the last thing she needed was Luca messing about with her already exhausted mind. He did that most days anyway. She knew he hated her little business, a houseboat moored at the end of the garden belonging to her new landlady, Clara.

After moving back to the pretty little village she’d grown up in over a year ago now, Romy had bought a five- year lease on the tea boat by the river in Windsor on a whim. However she found living there uncomfortable because the bedrooms were all used for storage. Clara had persuaded her to move in with her as her lodger, after a few break-ins along the river. When Romy had first moored the boat, its position opposite the dock where Luca and his brother Alex Bowen ran their cruise liners hadn’t seemed an issue. She’d felt lucky to have such an accommodating land‐ lady. Unfortunately, Luca had taken umbrage at her ‘eye‐ sore’ of a boat, and he enjoyed telling her about his issues most days. The man was insufferable!

A handful of ducks had taken up residence on the bow. Romy found them charming, but Luca thought they were a health hazard. Leaving as much mess as she could to wind him up was getting tiring, but she wouldn’t let anyone tell her what to do again. She’d left docile Romy back in Essex with her broken heart and duplicitous ex. She’d adored living there, but now she felt she could never return.

‘This is my grandmother’s house,’ said Luca, clearly exasperated at her, as usual. Romy felt as though all the air had been knocked out of her lungs, and glanced around in confusion. Was she in the wrong house?

‘Wait a minute. Clara is your grandmother?’ she snorted incredulously, then saw that he was serious. She thought back to the number of times she’d sat in deckchairs on the dock with Clara in the early morning, before she opened the tea boat up to dog walkers. Clara loved an early morning coffee and a teacake, or thick slices of buttery toast with marmalade, which was about the extent of Romy’s culinary talents and her tea boat menu. Romy had often spent this time venting to her new friend about the ‘bloody Bowen brothers and their stupid posh boats!’ She cringed inside and bit her lip, wanting to run and hide under the duvet – but this was still her room, and Luca had just got out of her bed!

Romy seethed because Luca and his older brother, Alex, ran modern cruise liners operating tours along this stretch of the river. They went from the castle nestling amongst the trees, up to a popular racecourse and back again. They also ran cruises sailing away from town, towards Romy’s grandparents’ house, which was also beside the river. Romy’s grandad’s best friend, Joe, ran Bertha, the only steamship on the river.

The rivalry between Joe and the Bowens had simmered for years. Alex and Luca wanted to scoop up Bertha, modernise her and run her themselves. But why would you modernise a steamboat? Half of the charm was the old- world glamour that Bertha had in buckets, from her crystal chandeliers to the Art Deco bar selling a Bertha classic, strawberry gin and lemonade. She was a floating master‐ piece that drew tourists from miles around. She often featured in travel magazines and social media images, too. Bertha had even had a plethora of famous visitors, like Dame Rosalie Alton, their local megastar.

Romy had been inside Clara’s bungalow a few times before she moved in, but had never seen a photo of Luca. Maybe Clara despised him as much as Romy did? Romy would have run a mile if she’d realised they were related. She frowned. Clara had never once mentioned she knew either of the brothers. This was so bizarre – although Romy would never acknowledge Luca if he was in her family, either. He was a constant pain in the backside. Maybe Clara felt the same. It didn’t explain why he was in her bed, though. Romy felt the burn of humiliation, which made her anger flare as she glared at him mutinously. He still hadn’t put his T-shirt on and she looked at it pointedly.

‘Look. This is my bed now. I’m exhausted after a long day and I need sleep.’

‘So do I,’ he stated, rolling his eyes at her – like he did most days.

‘Have you been busy fending off hordes of admirers all day on the boat, as usual?’ she scoffed sarcastically. Alex and Luca’s Italian good looks made women simper and drool around them, and it annoyed the hell out of Romy for some reason.

‘I’ve been at the hospital all evening with Nonna,’ Luca stated drily, his voice suddenly filling with emotion.

Romy gawped, her hand going to her mouth. ‘You mean Clara? What happened? Is she ok?’ She dropped all her angst and began rummaging around for the clothes that she’d been wearing earlier. She’d only moved in the day before, so most of her things were still on the boat. In her hurry she completely forgot Luca was there, and pulled her silky pyjama top off and threw her T-shirt back on. Then she froze. She turned back to him. His eyes were out on stalks. ‘Stop staring!’

‘Stop getting naked,’ He retorted, mirroring her move‐ ments by pulling his own T-shirt over his head. ‘Where are we going?’

‘To see Clara, of course,’ she said, as if he were a complete idiot.

‘Romy… it’s 2am.’ Luca’s shoulders sagged and she looked at the clock on the wall.

‘Is the hospital closed for the night?’

‘It is,’ humour sparked in his eyes again. ‘Visiting time finished hours ago.’

‘I need to see her. What happened?’ she asked.

‘I didn’t realise you were so close,’ he said. She swung around to see if he was being sarcastic, but he just looked exhausted. ‘She had a fall. They think she might have broken her hip. She needs an X-ray. My brother is with her. They sent me home in the end because I was pacing the corridors and annoying everyone.’

‘I can’t imagine that,’ she snapped waspishly.

He groaned and sat on the edge of the bed, which made her feel like angry little ants were marching up her spine. However tired she’d been a minute ago, she was now wide awake.

‘Can I see her in the morning? She visits me most days on the boat. She insisted I move in here after the recent break-in,’ Romy said.

‘There was another break-in?’ Luca jumped up again and began pacing the room. It had little in it, except a queen size bed, a chair, mirror and chest of drawers. That suited Romy, as she hated clut‐ ter. Her previous job as a vet had meant everything had to be scrupulously clean, but her standards had slipped a little since she’d been home. She thought back to the beautiful veterinary practice she’d run with her long-term partner, Aaron, before that had all gone horribly wrong, and she flinched.

‘Why didn’t she tell me about it?’ Luca asked.

‘She probably didn’t want to worry you,’ Romy soothed, catching his arm and feeling solid muscle, then hastily letting go. She shook herself. Why was she being kind to a guy who complained about her business almost daily? She already knew it was a mess – that she was a mess. She didn’t need him to constantly remind her that her decisions were bad and her boat was a blot on the landscape. It was her past choices that had got her into this predicament.

‘I need sleep,’ he growled, rubbing his eyes. She couldn’t deny that he was a hard worker, always the first at the dock and the last to leave. Not that she’d noticed…

‘So do I,’ parried Romy. ‘You’ll have to go somewhere else.’

‘I can’t. I promised Nonna I’d stay in the bungalow tonight. Now I bet it was because of the break-in.’

‘But she knew I’d be here,’ said Romy in exasperation.

‘I guess she forgot,’ he shrugged. ‘What with breaking her hip and everything,’ he added, deadpan. Then the light of mischief came into his eyes. ‘Although she probably knows you need looking after.’

Her eyes sparked with fire and she stomped her feet. ‘Get out of my bed!’

‘It’s my bed, and I’ve stayed in it since I was about three years old! I have first dibs.’

‘Sleep in Clara’s bed.’

‘No way! That’s weird. Plus, she’s the size of a sparrow and has a tiny single bed now. I always joke that she must have bought it from the children’s section, but she said the marital bed felt lonely without Nonno – my grandad.’ He rubbed his eyes in exhaustion for a moment and Romy’s bottom lip wobbled. Clara often spoke about how much she missed her husband, who had passed away years previously.

‘You sleep in it,’ he added, and just like that the fire was back.

‘No way! That’s weird,’ she parroted. ‘She’s my landlady. It wouldn’t be right to take her bed… and besides, I’m almost as tall as you.’ He looked at her sceptically and she huffed. ‘We can’t both sleep here.’

‘We’ll have to. Look. We’re both clearly exhausted and I’m guessing you’re too tired to try and jump my bones, so I can sleep safely,’ he joked.

She scoffed in disgust. ‘I wouldn’t “jump your bones” if you were the last man on earth!’ she retorted and he grabbed his heart and pretended to be wounded by her comments as he snuggled up under the duvet again and pulled the covers up to his chin. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked in horror as he stripped off under the duvet and threw his T-shirt on the floor.

‘I need sleep, Romy! I’ve been in Accident and Emergency at the hospital for over twelve hours, and I intend to get at least a bit of sleep before I head back there. Our team will have to manage the boats without me tomorrow. Alex will want to see her again too. Our parents live in Italy, so she only has us.’

Romy knew how close Luca and Alex were, so she bet she wouldn’t be getting much sleep either, if they were early risers. Tomorrow was Monday, the only day her tea boat was shut. She could already feel her eyelids drooping. She glanced at the cosy bed that she’d been dreaming of snuggling into for hours, after attending to a poorly duck that she’d just saved from a fox. Her profession in her past life seemed to be creeping into her new one lately, though she’d tried to leave it behind when things imploded thanks to her ex-boyfriend, Aaron, and his web of lies. She was determined never to rely on anyone again. That way, if life fell apart, she’d have no one to blame but herself.

With a big theatrical sigh, she grumpily sat on the opposite side of the bed to Luca and glared at him, but he was already snoring soundly. She gave him a shove and he gratifyingly moved over and shut up, his dark lashes brushing his cheek in sleep. How could someone so annoying go from argumentative to angelic in seconds, she wondered. He must be worn out, or he’d still be sparring with her like usually did.

She was too tired and worried about Clara to think deeply about why her landlady hadn’t told her who her grandsons were. But then, if Romy were related to Luca, she would certainly have disowned him too.

Chapter Two

Romy woke up from the soundest sleep she’d had in ages, then froze as an arm was thrown over her chest and she was snuggled into someone’s groin. She blinked a few times to clear her foggy mind.

She’d opened up her tea boat with no experience, but a lot of determination. It had been a steep learning curve. She aimed to establish a routine while helping her new neighbour, Greg, whose boat had been broken into a couple of nights earlier. There had been a spate of these break-ins over the past year. That, and the lack of a proper bedroom on the boat, had resulted in Romy giving in to pressure from the family and accepting Clara’s kind o”er of room and board. Becoming friends with Clara had been one of the joys of moving back home. Her friend was a sea of calm after the turbulence of Romy’s bonkers family, who lived at various points along the river near the town.

Trying to recall if she’d met someone in a bar and brought them home, Romy knew that definitely wasn’t her usual style. Loneliness had surrounded her for a while, though, she admitted to herself. Although incredibly gorgeous, she still hoped it wasn’t Greg from next door. Apart from a short-lived but fun encounter with a bartender last year, she’d essentially given up on men. He hadn’t wanted anything serious, so he’d been a perfect distraction.

Shuffling towards the edge of the bed, Romy tried to ease the arm away, but only got pulled in closer to a naked chest. Whoever this was, he smelt heavenly – manly and spicy. Focussing her sleep-deprived mind, she remembered offering to help Greg to clear up the mess from knocked- over bins, and then recalled a poorly duck. With a groan, Romy attempted to untangle limbs, without waking her companion. She’d spent hours patching the duck’s wing and settling him into the snug, a little warm space built for the previous owners’ dog that had become a duck haven. Hence Luca’s disparaging duck boat comments.

Luca! She sat bolt upright and pulled the duvet off him, which she hastily shoved back because he was still half-naked. He woke up and rubbed his eyes groggily, a slow grin spreading on his lips when he noticed her next to him, which rapidly changed when he saw her sitting with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes spitting fire.

‘Good morning,’ he drawled, sleepily.

‘Keep your hands to yourself!’ she raged. He seemed to realise for the first time he was hogging quite a lot of the bed. ‘What can I say,’ he shrugged. ‘I’m a snuggler. I guess I’m not so choosy when I’m exhausted,’ he said.

The words stung, but she attacked back. ‘You aren’t choosy at all,’ she shook her head. ‘You have a different woman hanging on your every word most days.’

His eyes zeroed in on her. ‘You’ve been watching me?’ he tutted. ‘Naughty Romy,’ he said in his lilting Italian accent that made her toes curl. It was an involuntary response to such a dreamy language and not her fault, she reasoned. She closed her eyes, trying to re-centre, pretending he wasn’t there. No one else seemed to make her want to erupt with anger like he did. He infuriated her! She felt incensed at the stupidity of all the women who threw themselves at Alex and Luca on a regular basis.

‘I can’t help but see. Your fancy cruise liners keep parking opposite my tea boat.’

‘That is where we’ve always moored,’ he drawled sardonically, sitting up and letting the covers fall to his hips, making her mouth go dry… another involuntary response. She huffed and stood up and then wished she hadn’t because he looked appreciatively at her legs.

‘My boat is closed today. When can I see Clara?’ she asked.

‘The duck tea boat you mean?’ he raised an eyebrow and she ignored him, searching around for her clothes, whilst picking up a few of his and throwing them his way, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

Her boat seemed to attract birds. Swans floated by, hoping to be thrown titbits. Ducks had also nested on the stern of the boat. When ducks begun laying eggs there, there wasn’t anything Romy could do. Law fully protected nests and the eggs and she actually loved seeing the mother ducks incubating their brood. The mallards sat on their eggs for almost a month and only left them fleetingly to feed. Romy was finding more and more people coming to her boat to see them. The same thing had happened last year, and it seemed ducks talked to each other – this year there were even more of them! She’d had to block the area off with a few pieces of wood, but she knew this wasn’t ideal.

Customers seemed to adore watching the ducks while they drank tea, or the strong coffee she bought from a small local artisan company. All she’d wanted was space to escape from her past and provide a roof over her head, but now she was looking after the welfare of about twenty ducks, some swans and a few Egyptian geese! She sighed and puffed out her cheeks in frustration. ‘Stop calling it the duck tea boat! I’ve told you I’m not getting rid of the ducks. They were here first.’

Luca rolled his eyes in exasperation. This was an old argument. He thought her boat was an embarrassment and a blot on the admittedly picturesque local landscape. The cobbled street that ran into town, with its stone and glass fronted cafés and beautiful shops, some of which were built, or later extended, in the Stuart period and Victorian era, had become a Mecca for tourists. The street ran up to the majestic castle nestled amongst the trees, which could also be seen from the river. She couldn’t care less what Luca thought. The more he complained, the more she dug her heels in and left the messy exterior. It certainly didn’t seem to put o! the dog walkers who flocked to her boat each day.

‘I can’t believe Clara is related to you,’ she said scathingly. Then she gulped, because daylight was filtering through the curtains and Luca moved to stand in front of her in just his boxers. Wow, he was gorgeous, she thought tetchily. Shame he was such a prima donna. She hastily looked away and began picking up his clothes from the chair and floor to shove into his arms. ‘You’re not exactly tidy yourself,’ she pointed out, inclining her head to his pile of clothes.

‘I was in a hurry to get to bed.’

‘So was I, but there was an annoying interloper in it.’ Luca sighed wearily and brushed his mussed-up hair out of his eyes. Seeing him ruffled was unusual, so she enjoyed her tiny victory, then felt a twinge of remorse, as he was clearly stressed and worried about his grandmother.

‘Clara?’ she asked again.

He glanced at the thick fancy watch on his wrist and began walking towards the bathroom, just when Romy realised she really needed to pee. ‘We can go as soon as we’re dressed,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘Visiting starts in thirty minutes.’

‘We?’ she squeaked.

‘Both of us are going to the same place. Unless you want me to report back?’ He clearly knew Romy well enough to understand her stubborn streak once she’d set her mind on something.

‘I guess so. Get dressed quickly then,’ she demanded, wishing she could jump in before him and that he’d go away before she had to speak to him again. Now they’d be in the car together and she wouldn’t be able to have a frank and honest conversation with Clara about the fibs her landlady had been telling with big, grumpy, Luca hovering at her shoulder.

‘I need to see for myself that your relationship with Nonna is what you say it is,’ he added bluntly. ‘Why are you really living in her home?’

‘You don’t believe me?’ she said incredulously. ‘You think I’m motivated by her money?’ he shrugged. ‘You do know that most of my family are famous and loaded?’ she said sarcastically.

Both of her siblings, Maya and Arthur, were recent self- made millionaires, and her grandparents were the darlings of the showbiz world. Her grandmother, Ettie, made clothes for royalty and her grandad, Owen, was a world-renowned exotic plant expert who now had his own television show – and groupies, which her grandmother found hilarious!

‘But are you?’ he raised an eyebrow and she felt her fingers bunch into a fist. How she’d love to wipe the smile from that smug, handsome face. She’d been the most senior vet at her old practice, after Aaron, but he’d been syphoning off the profits, she’d eventually discovered. She had never been a party animal, spending more time with sick ones instead, but that was none of Luca’s business. That he thought she was a gold-digger was hilarious. Money held little interest for her, other than to feed her animals and keep a roof over her head. To be honest, she was probably more comfortable in a barn, snuggled up with the chickens, than in a sterile house with concrete walls. She craved simplicity and didn’t judge others on what they had in the bank, unlike some people… She hadn’t thought it possible for Luca to annoy her further, but he always surprised her. A light of mischief bubbled up her spine and she decided to make him pay for his thoughtless comments.

‘Well,’ she fluttered her eyelashes at him, while he frowned. ‘I was thinking of finding a sugar daddy, but I bore easily, so perhaps a sugar Nonna is the next best thing.’

Luca blanched and his posture went rigid as he regarded her. She gulped because his focus unnerved her still, even when she was winding him up. Electricity crackled in the air whenever they were near each other and it was unsettling. She felt like she needed to stand under an ice-cold shower to regain her senses.

‘Then we need to spend more time together,’ he decided, clearly pleased with himself. ‘So that I can watch over you and make sure you don’t get your claws into my grandmother.’

‘Um…’ she foundered, as he took a step towards her. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. I was joking,’ she gulped as he took another step, his eyes never leaving her face.

‘Get dressed,’ he said shortly and then turned and left the room. Romy heaved a huge sigh of relief, as being in the same space as Luca was not a lot of fun. He filled the room with masculine energy. It was overwhelming at times, which made her prickly.

‘Stupid, pig-headed, Italian!’ she grumbled, while trying to calm her racing heart… and wondering what would have happened if he’d swept her into his arms instead of always arguing with her.

She sat down heavily on the edge of the bed they’d both just vacated and stared at the closed door. How on earth had her life come to this? He was one of her least favourite people on the planet, yet here he was in her private space. At least she’d survived a night in the same bed as Luca Bowen and come out unscathed… Hadn’t she?

Chapter Three

Finding a parking space at the hospital involved Luca doing lots of swearing in Italian under his breath. Romy was finally enjoying herself, as his parking was abysmal. How on earth he docked those huge cruisers was beyond her, and he’d scowled when she’d asked him. She offered to park for him, but he’d ignored her and spent a few minutes messing around with the parking app to pay for the space (or two spaces, if you counted the one next to theirs that he’d slightly parked across), before walking off in a huff at such a pace that she’d had to run to keep up with him.

They exited the lift, and she watched the nurses perk up at the sight of him and sit straighter. She rolled her eyes in disgust. What was it about a six foot four Adonis that made women lose their minds? Maybe it was the Italian good looks or the dark brooding smile, but as soon as he noted the nurses, he was charm personified. Someone allowed them to see Clara, even though they were a few minutes early for visiting time. Romy might as well have been invisible, and she bristled.

Clara’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled and winced as she tried to sit up. Luca immediately helped ease her into a sitting position.

‘Luca. Thank you,’ she said as she tried to settle herself comfortably. ‘Romy, I didn’t expect to see you here. What about the duck tea boat?’

‘It’s not a duck tea boat!’ she glanced at Luca as if to say the name was his fault, and he shrugged and grinned, pulling up a chair to sit next to his gran. Romy did the same and looked around at the room. Other than the hospital bed, a couple of chairs, and a drip that was attached to Clara’s arm, the room was pretty sparse.

‘I’m not working today,’ Romy said, determined not to tell Clara about the new break-in next door. She smiled reassuringly at her. ‘I just wanted to see if you were ok.’

‘There was another break-in,’ stated Luca, making Romy wish it was him connected up to a drip, so that she could turn it off! Now Clara would be full of anxiety! She glared at him mutinously and he ignored her.

‘Oh no! Where?’ asked Clara in alarm.

‘The boat next to Romy’s,’ he said. She didn’t know how he’d got that information, because she’d only found out herself when she’d gone back to her boat to collect a few things. It was petty vandalism, but she was worried about the birds and their nests, especially now that Clara had persuaded her to move into the bungalow with her. Maybe she should move back, or fit a gate.

‘It’s fine,’ soothed Romy, patting Clara’s hand gently. ‘It was just a bin that got knocked over, and some beer cans thrown onto the deck. There was a broken window, but no one actually got into the boat after all. I helped clear it up, so I was late getting back last night. The new guy next door is lovely,’ she said pointedly, looking at Luca who smiled tightly. ‘Quite sexy too,’ she added for good measure, winking at Clara. She laughed and then winced again, as her hip must be hurting. Romy decided she’d have to rein in the jokes for the moment.

‘Thank goodness you moved in!’ said Clara. ‘Otherwise you might have been there and got hurt.’

‘I can look after myself.’

‘I know that,’ said Clara, shaking her head at Luca, who looked as bemused as Romy felt. ‘But I think of you as my granddaughter. I have six strapping grandsons and I need some balance,’ she laughed at her own joke and then flinched again, so Romy got up to settle her more comfortably.

‘You need to look after yourself more,’ Romy said, while Clara gave Luca a pert look. He seemed as confused as Romy was.

‘I’m so relieved that you’re both staying at the bungalow now,’ Clara sighed, closing her eyes for a minute. Luca and Romy exchanged glances. It seemed neither knew what she was on about. When she opened her eyes, Romy noticed a glint of determination in them that hadn’t been there before.

‘Umm… Just to clarify. Luca won’t be staying there…’ Romy said.

Clara smiled weakly. ‘My hip operation is later today and it will be four or five days before I can come home. Luca promised me he’d stay until I got back, didn’t you Luca?’ She looked at him expectantly, and he spluttered.

‘But that was before I knew you’d taken on a lodger, Nonna…’ he said patiently. ‘Romy can look after the bungalow for a few days.’

‘But the break-ins! I’m so worried,’ said Clara, her voice wobbling.

Romy frowned. Clara had said after the first break-ins that she’d hit the thieves over the head with a baseball bat if they ever dared to enter her property. She wasn’t afraid of anything! Maybe the fall had made her feel more vulnerable, though? Romy was worried, and quickly picked up Clara’s hand.

‘Nonna,’ Luca reasoned, taking her other hand again. ‘I live in Mayfair.’

‘I know,’ she shivered. ‘Such a cold place.’

Luca spluttered and Romy tried not to laugh. It seemed she was witnessing a master of manipulation at work. Her own family was prone to a bit of insider pressure, so it was fascinating to watch it in another family – especially if it made Luca uncomfortable. It was intriguing to find out more about the fancy central London flat he lived in. He went back there every night according to Maya, Romy’s sister, who was acquainted with the brothers. But he was always first to arrive on the dock in the morning. Romy knew that herself, as her boat was moored opposite and she was an early riser. Because of the vandals, she was extra vigilant, she reasoned.

‘It’s a penthouse flat,’ he argued. ‘I just don’t like trinkets and clutter like you do, as you well know.’

‘Luca!’ gasped Romy at his rudeness. Romy would never speak to her own precious Ettie like that. As a child, she’d have been sent to her room. And she wouldn’t dare as an adult, either. Her grandmother was as soft as butter, but had an underlying layer of steel.

‘Sorry,’ Luca hung his head and leaned in to kiss his gran’s cheek, but she brushed him away. ‘What do you need me to do?’ he asked.

A light of mischief instantly appeared in Clara’s eyes and Romy watched as the ‘frail pensioner’ got her own way.

‘I want you to stay at my home with Romy until I’m well enough to return.’

‘Really? For all that time?’ he questioned, his eyes still dipped, as if he was about to step into the dentist’s chair and have a tooth extracted.

Clara shrugged noncommittally and then clapped her hands happily. ‘Good. I’m told I should keep my stress levels low before my operation and I don’t want to be worrying about another break-in.’

‘We could just set up security cameras, or an alarm?’ suggested Romy hopefully. She couldn’t think of anything worse than another night with Luca. Where the hell would he sleep? Neither of them could reasonably fit into Clara’s tiny bed – she’d checked. ‘My brother, Arthur, is setting up CCTV on my boat today, so he could pop by the bungalow too. You know he’s a tech guy?’ she asked Luca and he nodded. They’d met quite a few times as the whole family visited Bertha and Joe regularly for steamboat trips up and down the river. Romy liked strutting past the Bowen brothers’ boats and straight onto Bertha to wind Luca up. It was a fascinating hobby.

‘Ow,’ winced Clara as she tried to reach the water glass a nurse had left on the trolley at the end of her bed. Luca sprang up immediately and asked her if she needed anything else, refilling her cup and passing to her. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she assured him and Romy, once she had sipped the water and settled back down. ‘But for now, I just need my beauty sleep.’

‘Of course!’ said Romy, backing out of the room. Luca gently kissed his grandmother’s cheek, but she’d already closed her eyes and dismissed them.

Romy was so confused! Clara was usually sweetness and light. Luca gave his gran one more look over his shoulder, in case she woke up and told them both it was all a joke, Romy guessed. He sighed and followed Romy into the brightly lit corridor with the gaggle of giggly nurses who were looking Luca’s way and tittering. Romy glowered at them and then felt mean. They might need a little fun in their day, when they worked so hard. Even if it was in the shape of a Bowen brother, who would break their hearts and then not give them a second thought, no doubt.

‘Clara can’t be serious, can she?’ she asked under her breath, leaning back against the cool white wall.

‘She is.’ Luca’s shoulders sagged in defeat.

‘We could… just tell her you stayed?’ Romy suggested. ‘What? As in lie?’

‘Ummm. More of a little fib,’ she hedged, wondering why he was so angry.

‘No,’ he stated firmly, deep frown lines on his forehead. ‘I made a promise to my grandmother. Feel free to move out if you want, but I’m staying.’

‘There’s only one bed big enough for anyone over five foot two. Believe me, I measured Clara’s bed this morning.’ Luca rolled his eyes at her dramatics. ‘There’s nowhere to sleep on my boat, all the extra space is used for storage. It was never meant as living quarters. The whole middle floor is a tearoom, as you well know. I’m not moving out. I just moved in!’

‘Then it looks like we’ve both just landed a “atmate for a few days,’ Luca said.

‘You’ll have to sleep on the couch,’ Romy reasoned.

‘Have you seen Nonna’s couch? It barely fits her backside on it!’

‘The floor, then.’

‘It’s stone! Was it so terrible to share?’ he asked, his lip quirking upwards suddenly.

‘What do you think?’ she answered pertly. ‘I’m a paying guest.’

‘Has she taken any money from your account yet?’ he asked.

Romy frowned and got her phone out of her jeans pocket, then checked her banking app. She wrinkled her nose. Most people would be glad that their rent hadn’t gone out yet, but this just complicated things. ‘Not yet,’ she admitted.

‘Well. It seems that until it does, we are both guests. We will share the double bed,’ he said a touch too loudly and a couple of young nurses giggled. He held a hand up to silence Romy’s protestations. ‘I won’t touch you and you won’t touch me.’

‘I woke up with your arm around me this morning,’ she stated dryly. He frowned as if he was trying to recall – which infuriated her further.

‘It won’t happen again… until you ask me to,’ he added with a wink.

She rolled her eyes and stomped off up the corridor and into the lift, where she shut the door before he could step inside. She had to wait for him at the car, though, because she didn’t have keys. He arrived with a steaming cup of coffee, which made her mouth water. ‘That was childish,’ he said. Then he got into the car, not opening the central locking until he was comfortably behind the wheel.

‘That was childish,’ she parroted when she could finally get in, but couldn’t help but grin and their eyes met in mirth.

He lifted his coffee and revealed an empty cup underneath, then proceeded to pour half his drink into it. Then he handed it to her.

‘Your face was a picture when you saw the coffee,’ he joked. She gratefully took the second cup and sipped it. ‘I noticed yesterday that they are pretty generous with their coffee offering.’ She looked at him from under her lashes and grinned finally.

‘You need to visit the duck tea boat for a hot drink, instead of a reprimand,’ she teased. ‘We sell the best co!ee in town.’

He quirked an eyebrow. ‘I might just do that one day. Home?’

‘Home,’ she agreed, as he started the car up and headed back towards the river.

Keep reading here! Amazon link. The Windsor Love Match