She’d been in Japan at the time, at Shibuya, the world’s busiest crossing. An investigation had shown images of Faye being distracted by her phone and not paying attention to a speeding car. Arturo had spent hours wondering if it had been he that had distracted her. She hadn’t answered the phone, but pulled it from her pocket to see who was calling. If she would have answered or not, no one would ever find out, because things had happened in a flash.

  He’d checked times around the world and was sure he’d been in a meeting at the time, but it had always stuck in the back of his head. Who had called Faye and distracted her at the very second she needed to be paying attention to the world around her?

  That hadn’t been part of the investigation because no one had cared. It was irrelevant. But thoughts about it still occasionally found a space in his dreams.

  His family had encouraged him to date again, and he was sure at some point he would. He’d taken a few female friends to dinner, but he hadn’t considered them dates because he’d had no romantic intentions.

  The woman he’d met the other night—Darcy?—had thrown him. At first it was her fellow awkwardness. Then, when she’d spoken, he’d realised she was English instead of Scottish. He’d grown so adept at listening to the Scottish accent these days, another accent had thrown him for a second. He hadn’t expected to look into a pair of blue eyes and feel a pool of warmth inside him. It had almost been like flicking a switch back on.

  He was relieved that someone else with no experience had attended the class. When he’d realised just how pretty and intriguing she was it had sparked his interest. Arturo had spent a long time focused on work. It was all-encompassing, particularly when his team knew they were close to revealing some hidden secrets and finding a long-lost painting or artefact. Occasionally, his job was dangerous. People paid millions to own some of the pieces he’d come across, and not all had been originally sourced by legal means.

  But his job was also a family legacy. His father had trained him, alongside his two degrees in Archaeology and Art History. Even as a child, he could remember tense moments when his father had clearly been threatened because of pieces he was pursuing. Arturo was almost sure threats had been made towards his family too.

  It was part of the reason he struggled to connect. Attraction to women was never a problem, but connection...was an entirely different story. If he knew his job could potentially put someone at risk it would be fundamentally wrong to pursue anything other than a short-term fling. At least that was what he always told himself.

  The thought had played in his mind around Faye’s death. She’d had a similar job to him. But, to the best of his knowledge, Faye had never encountered any real threats. And there had been no connection between the driver that had hit her and any work she had been pursuing. Her death had been nothing but a tragic accident. But still the thought remained.

  The fact that his personal family fortune meant that neither he nor his father had a real need to pursue the careers that they had didn’t really feature in his thought processes. Both of them loved the job that they did. And Arturo couldn’t see himself ever leaving this role.

  But it made meeting a woman tricky. There had been the odd occasion in his life when he’d been targeted by a woman whose purpose was to entice details around his latest research. It had even come into his head at the first meeting with Faye. But Arturo had quickly learned to recognise those people. Darcy Bennett? An English girl, working in cybersecurity and dancing with an older man in the Edinburgh Variety Hall—on the exact same night that he attended—would be a feat that even a psychic couldn’t have planned.

  So he felt comfortable about thoughts of Darcy. Particularly when he remembered her little quirks. She’d been just as nervous as he was. She had a habit of biting her bottom lip or curling a piece of hair around her finger. She’d tugged at her bright red skirt a few times as if she’d had second thoughts about wearing it.

  But there were also the things that she couldn’t hide beneath her façade. The way she’d glanced over at her older friend on a regular basis, to make sure he was surviving. The fact she had no problem looking Arturo right in the eye and responding to his questions. She hadn’t even pretended for a second that she was a good dancer, which gave him the sense that Darcy was straight down the line—honest, true and had a sense of humour. This was a woman he would be happy to see again.

  Maybe this time he could ask her out for a drink? It might be a bit forward but, if he made it to the class in time next week, who knew what could happen?

  His phone buzzed and all his thoughts went back to work. Darcy Bennett and her red skirt would have to wait.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘BE COOL,’ Darcy said out loud as she walked alongside Arthur, then wondered if she were saying it for him or for herself.

  It was official. Arthur had a date after the dance class tonight. It was already prearranged at a nearby quiet bar with Connie, a woman he’d been texting since last week.

  He was nervous. Arthur hadn’t dated anyone since his wife had died, and said he didn’t even remember what to do.

  ‘Be yourself,’ Darcy had reassured him. ‘She’s already met you and likes you. That’s a great start.’

  She glanced along the street, wondering if she might catch a glimpse of her tall, dark Italian. She’d had major regrets since last week, wishing she hadn’t made an excuse to get away, and had instead continued the conversation with him.

  Libby and Fizz had both been in touch about the dance class and she hadn’t even mentioned him. She didn’t want to be interrogated on someone she might never see again.

  ‘Ready?’ asked Arthur, tilting his elbow towards her. She slid her arm through his and they climbed the stairs.

  The class was busy again, people were stripping off coats and outdoor shoes. Margaret was making a few introductions, then moved to the centre of the room.

  ‘We’re splitting into two groups this week. Anyone who wishes to try the quickstep and some swing, go on through to the Callaghan Hall next door. Anyone who wishes to continue with the Viennese waltz, we’ll start with that in here, then move onto the foxtrot.’ She clapped her hands above her head. ‘Find a partner for the Viennese waltz if you are staying, and you’ll be staying with that partner for the first half of the class to concentrate on frame and footwork.’

  Arthur gave a nervous cough and Darcy gave him a nudge. ‘Go on, go and find her.’

  He’d barely taken a few steps when there was a tap on her shoulder. ‘I’m looking for a partner for the Viennese waltz, are you taken?’

  The accented words sent an unexpected tremor down her spine and by the time she spun around she knew she had a stupid grin on her face.

  She put her hands on her hips and tried to be much cooler than she actually felt. ‘You came back?’

  ‘For a second round of torture. I’m actually going to come on Wednesday too. I need to up the ante here to get myself ready for this wedding.’

  ‘You’re deadly serious?’ She was secretly impressed.

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘You haven’t met my sister. If I step on her toes the way I stepped on yours...’ He let his voice trail off but he was still smiling.

  It was the easiest thing in the world to put her hands into his and join him on the dance floor. Margaret came around and sternly positioned them. ‘Hips straight, head up, shoulders back, chest out.’ The words were like commands, and she could see from Arturo’s face he was trying hard not to laugh.

  ‘We’d better concentrate,’ she whispered.

  His eyes stayed on Margaret as he leaned forward and whispered in her ear. ‘I’ll concentrate better if you agree to come for a drink with me afterwards.’

  For a second, her mouth was instantly dry. The thing that had circled her dreams most nights this week was actually happening. She licked her lips. ‘Well, it just so happens that Arthur has a date after class, so I am free.’

  Arturo grinned. ‘He does?’ His head inclined to watch Arthur and his new female friend and she could tell his interest was genuine. ‘That’s great.’

  She nodded and Arturo studied her for a few moments. ‘I’m scared to ask, but do you want to go to the same place that they are? Just in case you’re worried,’ he added swiftly.

  ‘What if I told you they were going to bingo?’ she teased.

  ‘I’d tell you that I missed that skill set in Italy. You’ll need to show me the ropes.’

  She laughed. ‘You’re safe, they’re going to a pub. It might not be your scene either though.’

  He shrugged easily. ‘You’ve said yes. I don’t care where we go.’

  There was something about those words. While her stomach gave a little flip, she actually felt relaxed around him. Yes, they barely knew each other. But in this day and age he acknowledged the fact she might want to be around friends rather than alone with a relative stranger. It was considerate.

  Margaret’s voice cut through her thoughts. ‘Music is starting now, get ready.’

  They both straightened up, concentrating hard. One hour later, her back stiff from trying to keep both her posture straight and lean back the way she should, Darcy’s legs were aching.

  ‘I think I’ve got the natural turn and the reverse turn, but that’s about it,’ she admitted.’

  He gave her an appreciative smile. ‘That’s two of the basic steps. We’re doing good.’

  ‘Why did your sister pick the Viennese waltz? Why not the normal waltz? You could probably have got away with just shuffling around the floor for that one.’

  He nodded. ‘I probably could. But she likes to be specific, and she’s planned her wedding to perfection. She did offer to find someone to train me.’

  ‘She did? From Italy? Wow.’

  ‘Yip, she sent a list of instructors and was slightly annoyed when I told her I would find my own.’

  Darcy somehow knew that ‘slightly annoyed’ was likely a toned-down term.

  Arturo glanced across the room. ‘Do you want to stay for the foxtrot?’

  She laughed. ‘You are joking, aren’t you? Buy me a drink, please. Let me just tell Arthur that we’re leaving.’

  She moved around the edges of the dance floor and gave Arthur a kiss on the cheek. ‘Good luck,’ she whispered.

  ‘You too,’ he said in a low voice, while keeping his arms around his current dance partner.

  Darcy collected her coat and walked out into the autumn evening with Arturo. Edinburgh could frequently see four seasons in one day, but the air was warm this evening, with the sun setting behind the castle in a brilliant array of oranges and purple. She stopped for a second and took a deep breath.

  Arturo paused at her shoulder and looked in the same direction she was. ‘Stunning, isn’t it? My office has a view of the castle and the sunrises and sunsets are the best thing about it.’

  She gave a deep sigh of appreciation before turning to him. ‘And in those words you’ve just told me that you spend entirely too much time in your office.’

  He nodded in agreement. ‘You’re right, I do. But sometimes it’s worth it.’

  She gave him a curious look. Just how much was there to find out about Arturo Fabiano?

  He glanced along the street. ‘How about a drink somewhere special? I know a place that does lovely Italian wine.’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘It had better be public.’

  He laughed and nodded. ‘Don’t worry, it is.’

  A few minutes later he took her into the best known and most expensive hotel in Edinburgh. She didn’t even want to know what the prices were in the bar here.

  But once they’d settled in comfortable leather chairs and there had been a few smiles towards her dance skirt, Arturo leaned forward. ‘Do you have a preference between white and red?’

  ‘If I was sophisticated, I’d say red. But the truth is I like white. Red always gives me a headache.’

  He lifted his finger then shook his head, laughing at himself. ‘I am saying nothing.’ He ran his eye down the wine list and motioned to the waiter, who returned with a bottle of white wine.

  He signalled he didn’t need to test the wine, and watched as the waiter poured it into the glasses. She hadn’t even taken a sip before the waiter returned with some bread, olives, oils and a bowl of nuts.

  ‘Do you think we look hungry?’ she whispered.

  ‘Maybe,’ he replied with a smile.

  She sipped the wine and gave a sigh. ‘Lovely.’

  ‘I’m glad you approve.’

  Darcy relaxed back in the chair, looking at the comfortable surroundings. There was a quiet ambience in the bar, with a number of the tables taken and low-voiced conversations taking place around them. ‘This place is nice,’ she said.

  He pressed his lips together for a moment.

  ‘What?’

  He pulled a face. ‘I should probably tell you that technically I’ve been staying here for the last few months.’

  ‘Here?’ She couldn’t help but be astounded. People stayed here for one night, maybe two at a push. But months? What would be the price tag for that?

  ‘Seemed like a central location.’

  She took another sip of her wine. ‘I guess you could call it that.’ She narrowed her gaze towards him. ‘I am not coming upstairs to your room.’

  He held up a hand. ‘And I didn’t intend to ask—no, that might not have come out the way it should. I just thought I should tell you now, in case it came up later and you were annoyed I hadn’t mentioned it.’

  He looked genuinely worried and she decided to let him off easy.

  ‘It’s fine. Now I know why you knew there were good Italian wines here.’

  He nodded through towards another room. ‘There’s sometimes a harpist playing in the gallery above in the room next door. It really is a nice place.’

  She knew it was a really nice place. Most people who stayed in Edinburgh did—it just wasn’t an everyday place, and that made her a little nervous. It wasn’t as if money was a big thing for her. She made a better than average salary on her own, the private sector paid handsomely for people with her cybersecurity skills. Her cottage was her pride and joy, and she had some savings in the bank and was already paying into a pension. But she was beginning to suspect that Arturo was in an entirely different league when it came to money.

  She raised her glass to him. ‘So, tell me more about your sister’s wedding. You said she was a planner.’

  He smiled. ‘Cara was born a planner, and I think in truth she’s actually been planning her wedding since she was around six years old.’

  ‘When is it?’

  ‘In a few weeks. I don’t have much time to perfect my dancing skills. That’s why I said I would go to the extra class this week.’ He gave her a thoughtful look. ‘Are you a glutton for punishment—will you join me?’

  Darcy gave a small gulp, a little taken aback by his straightforwardness. ‘I’ll need to think about it,’ she stalled. ‘Tell me more about your family.’

  He paused for a moment, watching her carefully with his dark brown eyes before taking a sip of his wine and talking again. ‘I only have one sister, and her fiancé is a man from another part of Italy who she met at university.’

  ‘Do you like him?’

  He gave a careful smile. ‘It takes a special man to stand up to my sister.’

  Darcy wrinkled her nose. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It means that I think he’s up for the job. She’s been very precise about her wedding details and he has on occasion told her no, and to be reasonable.’

  She was amused at how wide his smile was. ‘And you can’t say no to her?’

  He laughed and shook his head, ‘Oh, I’ve spent a lifetime saying no to my sister, with varying degrees of success.’ He waggled his hand in the air. ‘But things are different now.’ His voice quietened. ‘Her dream was for our father to walk her down the aisle. That can’t happen now. So I feel as if I have to give her some—what do you call it—leeway?’

  Darcy nodded. He took another sip of wine then leaned forward, eating up the space between them. ‘So, tell me truthfully, Ms Cybersecurity, why are you really at a dance class? You like it as much as I do,’ he joked. ‘And it can’t all be about Arthur.’

  She took a breath, not sure how truthful to be. ‘It is partly about Arthur.’ And she did genuinely mean that. She just wished she’d thought about something like this a few years ago. ‘He’s really come out of his shell. If you’d seen him when I first met him five years ago, he was very different.’

  ‘But he was still grieving then, wasn’t he?’

  The words settled over her like a comfortable hug. It was the combination of things. The way he said the words, the tone and the understanding. She knew he’d experienced the grief of losing his father a few years ago, and it was clear he comprehended what that did to a person.

  ‘He was,’ she said simply then leaned forward too. There were now only inches between their faces, but what she needed to say wasn’t something she really talked about in public, or at all. She needed this space to feel private, as if it were just theirs. She said the words before the courage left her.

  ‘The reason I’m at the class is because my sister left me a bucket list that she wanted me to complete. She died five years ago, and I was only given it last week. I’m doing it in her honour.’

  She spoke so quickly that she was sure all the words ran together. Would Arturo even have picked them all up? His English was excellent, but Italian was his first language.

  His eyes widened by the slightest margin, but she was close enough to see it. Was this too close?

  He reached out and put his hand over hers. ‘I am so sorry about your sister.’

  There was silence for a few moments, and Arturo didn’t try to fill it. His expression was sincere. He seemed to know that those few words would be enough.