“I can help you,” he said before he could let himself think about it, and he thrust out his hand. “Massimo Valtieri. If you’re ready to go, I can give you a lift to Siena now.”

      He pronounced it Mah-see-mo, long and slow and drawn out, his Italian accent coming over loud and clear as he said his name, and she felt a shiver of something primeval down her spine. Or maybe it was just the cold. She smiled at her self-appointed knight in shining armour and held out her hand.

      “I’m Lydia Fletcher—and if you can get us there before the others I’ll love you for ever.”

      His warm, strong and surprisingly slightly calloused fingers closed firmly round hers, and she felt the world shift a little under her feet. And not just hers, apparently. She saw the shockwave hit his eyes, felt the recognition of something momentous passing between them, and in that crazy and insane instant she wondered if anything would ever be the same again …