What was important was to stroll through these narrow alleys, letting him weave magic spells around her. There would be time for common sense later.

After a while he fell silent, but the magic continued in the unearthly quiet of a city where there were no cars.

His arm was around her shoulders, drawing her close so that she was intimately aware of the warmth of his body. The stress of the evening fell away, and a blessed calm fell over her. Desire had passed into tenderness, giving her a space that she badly needed.

"Here we are," he said at last.

"Where?"

"The Palazzo Calvani. This is a side door. You must ring the bell, but not just yet."

He stroked her face with gentle fingers.

"When the weddings are over, promise me that you will not leave without seeing me again."

"I promise," she whispered contentedly.

After the evening's stormy, unfulfilled passion, he now kissed her like a boy on his first date, lips caressing hers almost uncertainly, if such a word could be associated with this man.

She relaxed into the warmth and tenderness that he offered, not wanting it to end.

It was he who drew back. "Good night," he murmured.

"Good night," Justine whispered back – with just a hint of wistfulness.

He rang a bell by the door.

"The porter will let you in. Good night."

He moved away swiftly and was out of sight before the porter admitted her. Justine hurried up to her room.

At the turn in the stairs there was a half-open window that looked out over the street where they had said goodbye. She could see the place where they had stood together, and wondered where he was now.

Then she saw something that might have been a shadow, standing by the corner. She blinked, and the shadow vanished, only to reappear. Surely it was her imagination? For a moment she had thought the shadow was familiar, and that he was gazing directly up at the window, as though reluctant to leave her. But when she looked again, he was gone, as elusive as a ghost.