For him the door had stood half-open, but then it had brutally slammed shut in his face, leaving him stranded in a desolate place.

All around him the villa was hushed for the night. It was packed to the rafters with people-many of whom loved each other, some of whom loved him. In the midst of them he felt lonelier than ever before in his life.

The flight from London had been delayed, and by the time Polly landed at Naples she was feeling thoroughly frazzled. The extra time had given her more chance to think about what she was doing and regret that she had ever agreed to do it.

There was a long queue to get through Passport Control, and she yawned, trying to be patient. A large mirror stretched the length of the wall, providing an unwelcome opportunity to anyone who could bear to look at themselves after a flight. For herself, she would gladly have done without it. There was nothing in her appearance that pleased her.

It was wickedly unjust that, equipped with much the same physical attributes as her cousin Freda, she had turned out so differently. Freda had been tall, slender, willowy-a beauty who’d walked with floating grace. Polly was also tall and slender, but her movements suggested efficiency rather than elegance.

‘And just as well,’ she’d tartly remarked once. ‘I’m a nurse. Who wants a nurse drifting beautifully into the ward when they need a bedpan? I run, and then I run somewhere else, because someone’s hit the alarm button. And when I’ve finished I don’t recline gorgeously on a satin couch. I collapse in an exhausted huddle.’

Freda, who’d been listening to this outburst with amusement, had given a lazy chuckle.

‘You describe it so cleverly, darling. I think you’re wonderful. I couldn’t do what you do.’

That had been Freda’s way-always ready with the right words, even if they’d meant nothing to her. Polly, prosaic to her fingertips, had seen that slow, luxurious smile melt strong men, luring them on with the hint of mystery.