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Her grandmother patted her hand. 'Do not fret. I am fatigued after our long hours of travel yesterday, that is all.'

The journey, entailing a flight from Scotland to Pisa, and then a train ride to Piombino, the port on the Italian mainland from where they had caught the ferry to Portoferraio, Elba's capital town, had been exhausting. And it had not ended until they had travelled to the unspoilt western end of the mountainous island, where Gina had booked a room at an inexpensive bed and breakfast run from a private house. The twin-bedded room was small, basic, but comfortable...all she could afford on a tight budget.

It was also close to Capo Sant'Andrea, a name her grandmother remembered, believing it to be near their ultimate destination. Gina wasn't surprised her grandmother, now seventy years old, was feeling the strain—especially as she had insisted they begin their search for the right location along the stretch of the north-west coast first thing that morning. Thanks to the taxi driver's local knowledge, they had struck lucky and found the hidden cove containing Neptune's Spear. Gina could only hope that her grandmother would not be disappointed with the rest of her quest.

'I'll go and make enquiries.' Rising to her feet, Gina collected her bag. 'My mobile phone number is on the pad, and Signora Mancini has it, too. She'll be here if you need anything.' She was grateful to their kindly landlady, who had volunteered to maintain a discreet watch while Gina was out. Her grandmother nodded, masking a couple of coughs, and Gina frowned, unable to dismiss a twinge of unease. Bending, she kissed a soft, wrinkled cheek, sending up a silent wish that her outing would be successful. 'I'll do my best for you, Nonna.'

'You always do. Bless you,
ragazza mia.'

Moisture shimmered in wise hazel eyes and Gina forced a smile, blinking back the answering tears that pricked her own darker eyes. 'I'll see you soon.'

Keen to cut costs where possible, Gina declined the taxi that had been necessary that morning with her grandmother's decreased mobility. Instead, she hired a bicycle and rode back along the narrow, winding roads of the cape towards the villa their search had identified earlier in the day.

All her twenty-eight years money had been tight, but what the McNaughts had lacked in material things had been more than compensated for with an abundance of love, care and support. She had revelled in being able to return that love and care by having her grandparents live with her for the last four years, seeing them benefit from Strathlochan's cleaner air, cosier conditions and sense of community. Any thought that she had put a part of her life on hold to do it she pushed to the back of her mind. She had made her choices and had never had a moment of regret. Now, though, her grandfather was gone, and the pain of his loss stabbed through her. Her grandparents had never been able to return to Italy together, but she had vowed to help her grandmother see this through.

With only her nursing salary, it was a struggle to pay all the bills, to cover her mortgage and to meet her grandmother's needs. The elderly lady's pension was a pittance and, despite a lifetime of hard work, her grandfather had been able to leave little behind in support. She had a small amount left in an emergency fund, but Gina prayed she wouldn't need to use it—and that Nonna Maria wouldn't find out that she had cashed in her savings to pay for this Elban pilgrimage.

Coming to a halt at the entrance to the villa, Gina paused a moment. Taking in a breath of clean air, she marvelled at the landscape, at the way chestnut woods swept down the hillsides to the coast. All was quiet. She stared at the sign on the gate across the drive that led to a home hidden from view amongst the trees. Villa alia Roccia del Nettuno. The Villa at Neptune's Rock. For her grandmother's sake, Gina hoped this was the right place—and that the owner would be understanding of the unusual request she had come here to make.

Closing the gate behind her, Gina pushed the bike up the rough driveway. She was glad she had worn trainers with her denim shorts and cut-off T-shirt, but when the villa finally came into view she worried that she was too casually dressed to make the right impression. Whoever lived here clearly didn't have money worries.

'Wow!'

She stared in admiration. Long and low, the palatial villa, had a classic Elban red-tiled roof, while the walls were painted a pale creamy yellow. The garden was lush, the hilly terrain and native woodland lending perfect seclusion and privacy to the setting. The sound of birds and the faintest rustling of a breeze in the trees were the only noises to impinge on the silent stillness of the afternoon. Gina immediately felt at peace here, experiencing a strange sense of belonging. She wasn't given to fancy, but she wondered if she was close to the place that was so special to her grandparents, if she somehow sensed their spirits here, reaching across the ages.

Shaking her head at such a notion, she propped her bike against the wall, took her bag from the basket and hooked the strap over her shoulder. She walked to the front door, disappointed when no one answered her ring of the bell.

Undecided, she hesitated. They had come a long way, and this mission was important to her grandmother. She couldn't give up now. Perhaps she should wait for someone to return. She could leave a note, asking for the owner to phone, but she would rather explain her purpose for coming here in person. Feeling guilty for trespassing, she walked around the side of the villa. It was huge, a U-shape around a rear terrace, and it looked as if her whole cottage would fit into a couple of rooms here. The spacious terrace had a large table, comfortable chairs and recliners, plus an outdoor cooking facility. Near the far end was an artist's easel and equipment, but she didn't venture across the terrace to inspect the canvas. It was the view over the rocky cliffs and the sea that held her attention and took her breath away. She had never seen anything so stunning—and that was saying something, given the spectacular scenery around Strathlochan.

Drawn despite her caution, she followed a path through the shrubs which led to steep stone steps that marked the way down to a sheltered beach far below. This must be where Maria and Matthew had walked together fifty years ago, before the villa had been built. She had to go down there. Had to see for herself the precious cove, the rock formation shaped like Neptune's spear, the spot where her grandparents' love had been born.

It was a daunting trip down the uneven cliff steps, and Gina knew that if this did turn out to be the right place there was no way her grandmother would be able to manage the journey down. Once on the small crescent of beach, protected by the curving cliff walls, she had her first proper glimpse of the rock feature that rose from the water a distance offshore. Irregular, and surrounded by other rock forms, it did, indeed, look like a massive trident.. .Neptune's three-pronged spear...just as her grandparents had described so vividly and with so much fondness.

Gina absorbed the solitude, the natural beauty, amazed by the clarity of the water, a glistening mix of emeralds and azures. Sitting down, she wrapped her arms around her knees. The September sunshine was hot on her skin, and she tipped her head back, closing her eyes, imagining the moment her grandparents had met, the secret romantic rendezvous that had followed, their determination to marry despite Maria's parents' dissent. Maria and Matthew had made it work, had survived the hardships to enjoy a lifetime of devotion. All thanks to that one chance meeting on this tiny Elban beach.

Elba. The name had a magic to it. A magic sparked to life in her childhood as her grandmother regaled her with stories of this special place. Gina would never forget the moment yesterday when she had seen Elba for the first time. The mountainous outline of the island, jutting from the blueness of the sea, had shimmered into her vision and grown into reality. All her life she had been captivated by the romance, the fairytale, the joy and love that coloured her grandparents' memories of this place. She had been determined to come— one day. Now she was here. But in these circumstances?

Frowning, she turned her thoughts to the reason for bringing her grandmother back to Elba. She was concerned that the emotion would be too much, but her grandmother was determined, and Gina would never break the promises she had made. Lulled by the peacefulness of the surroundings, she relaxed, some of the tension and responsibility she had shouldered for so long draining from her.

The soft swell of the sea under the sun cast shifting light over the rock formation, highlighting a myriad of colours and textures. At that moment, as she stared towards the mythical symbol, it seemed as if the very sea-god himself appeared from behind the rocks, swimming towards the shore with an easy stroke before rising from the water. Gina gasped, startled from her reverie, wondering for a moment if the apparition was real or a figment of her imagination.

He certainly looked real as he removed his mask and snorkel and waded towards the beach at a slight angle away from her. The sheer masculine perfection of him held her spellbound. As she watched, he ran the fingers of his free hand through jet-black hair, shedding water, sweeping the strands back from an arresting, impossibly handsome face. A face that could have been sculpted from the surrounding granite by the hand of a master craftsman. Yet he was undoubtedly flesh and blood...human and all male. Gina couldn't drag her gaze away from his athletic physique, appreciating the broad shoulders, the bronzed skin on which a sheen of water glistened, the supple muscles, and a chest dusted with dark hair trailing in a narrow line over a flat abdomen to his navel. Black swim-shorts sat low on his hips, the wet fabric clinging to strong, leanly muscled thighs.

As he strode through the shallows to the beach, Gina felt overheated, sure she would melt on the spot. Then he looked up, stilling as he noticed her for the first time. The breath trapped in her lungs as their gazes met. Her sea-god changed direction, walking purposefully towards her, the touch of his gaze firing her blood and tightening her stomach. With more haste than grace, Gina scrambled to her feet as he closed the last of the distance between them.

'Buongiorno, signorina.'

His accented voice was throaty and attractive, the warm huskiness of it sending prickles of awareness down her spine. Gathering her scattered wits, she answered in Italian.

'Buongiorno.'

It was hard to believe possible, but close up he was even more gorgeous than her first impression had suggested. Around six feet tall, she guessed he was in his early thirties. A day's growth of beard shadowed a strong, masculine jaw, while his mouth was sultry, beautifully shaped, his lips deliriously kissable. He had eyes the colour of liquid caramel, deeper than hazel, but not as dark a brown as her own, and they were framed by impossibly long sable lashes and gentle laughter lines.

Unable to resist the temptation, her gaze slid down to inspect his bare torso.. .strong shoulders, perfect chest, and a taut abdomen and belly. The way water droplets drizzled in slow motion down his dusky skin mesmerised her. She was so close to him that when she breathed in she inhaled the teasing scent of the sea, mingled with his woodsy male aroma. She had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him.

Startled by her impulsive desire, Gina took a step back, her gaze lifting to his face, finding that he appraised her with equal thoroughness. Her breathing was uneven, her pulse raced, and her flesh tingled as if he had physically touched her. Alarmed, she retreated another pace. How long was it since she had appreciated an attractive man? How long since anyone had made
her
feel attractive and womanly?

'This is a private beach,
signorina.'

The softness of his voice failed to mask the challenge and thread of accusation. 'I'm sorry,' she murmured, keeping to Italian, caught off guard by his sudden appearance as well as by her spontaneous reaction to him.

'How did you find it? What are you doing here?' he queried, folding his arms across his chest.

'Um...' Gina hesitated, distracted by the way his muscles flexed as he moved. She forced herself to remember why she was here, determined to get back on track. 'Does the beach belong to the people who own the villa?'

Suspicion appeared in watchful eyes. 'Why does this interest you?'

'I need to talk to the owner.'

The man observed her for a moment, his expression unreadable. 'The villa is not for sale.'

'No. No, that's not it. I...'

'The property is owned by a family from Florence,' he informed her as her words trailed off. "They are not expected to return to the island for some time.'

'So you take care of the place for them?' she mused to herself, wondering how much to confide in him, deflated as the prospect of a successful outcome began to crumble and the fulfilment of her grandmother's hopes began to fade.

A speculative glint appeared in his eyes. 'Tell me why you want to talk to them.'

'It's private.'

'Maybe I can help you.'

She regarded him warily. His presence made her feel breathless and shaky. 'If you'll tell me how I can contact the owners,
that
would help.'

'Come on up to the villa. We will talk. You will tell me why you want to find them, and I will consider giving you the information you need,' he suggested, tempting her with a lifeline to keep her promise to her grandparents alive.

Gina bit her lip, thinking of her grandmother and the reason they had come all this way. She couldn't let her down. And, with only a few days available to them before their return to Scotland, time was short. As caretaker, and with access to the owners of the beach, there was a chance this man could help her achieve her aim and grant her grandmother's appeal. Instinct warned her that spending more time in his company wasn't sensible, but it seemed she needed to work with him.

Her decision made, she nodded. 'All right. But I can't be too long. Someone is waiting for me.'

A man?

Seb frowned, wondering why the possibility bothered him so much. It was true that this unknown woman immediately intrigued him, with her mix of mystery and understated sexiness. Emerging from his swim to find the stranger on the beach had been a surprise—one he planned to explore to the fullest. Her presence made him suspicious. She had yet to explain how she had found the secluded villa, what she had been doing on the private beach, or what she wanted with his family. That she assumed him to be the caretaker could be genuine. He scanned her soul-deep brown eyes, searching for the truth. Or it could be the ruse of a clever journalist to lull him into a false sense of security and get a story on him. He had been tricked before. This time he would not let down his guard.. .or let this woman out of his sight.. .until he knew more about her and her motives.