‘Nice.’ His eyes flickered, without a trace of Pete, thank God, and then his gaze narrowed a little. ‘How do you know all this?’
What to say?
She didn’t want to upend him now—upset him—not when they were getting on so well, having actual fun, when he seemed to be stepping up on the project front, albeit still in a tearing hurry. Pace was going to be a hurdle, not one she wanted to face yet, not when he was proving such a sweet surprise, messing his hair up like that to look like a scarecrow! She felt warmth unfurling. In a million years she’d never have guessed he could be so slapstick, so completely adorable.
But she couldn’t let the sunshine, and the wine, and his ocean eyes lull her into La-La Land. Anthony had wanted her to help him find his light, and she couldn’t do that without touching the dark, without ever mentioning his father.
She set her glass down, bracing a little. ‘Your dad told me.’
Something moved behind his eyes, but he wasn’t turning his face away, which was good.
‘As you know, he liked talking about Lisbon. I guess some of it stuck...’
His lips tightened. ‘Right.’
Was that resistance starting? She dug in. No way was she losing him now. ‘There’s nothing like seeing it for real, though.’ She aimed a smile into his eyes. ‘I was out first thing this morning, walking...’
Empty streets. Pale sun. Sky turning blue.
His features softened. ‘Sounds like a nice thing to do.’
She felt a flick of relief and, in the same beat, a spark igniting. ‘It was so quiet, Will. Mellow. Or maybe it just felt like that because it’s warmer here than it is in London right now and the pavements really are golden.’
He smiled, then turned to the view. ‘Incredibly, it’s my first time here.’
Because of Anthony’s love for the place, he meant. She felt her heart lifting. Maybe it was only an oblique nod to his father, but it felt like a milestone, a tiptoe step towards a possible future conversation with him about Anthony, and everything that went with that. For now, she was glad of this new thing they had in common.
‘It’s my first time here too.’
His gaze swung back. ‘Really? I assumed...’ His lips pressed together. ‘I mean, the way you led us up to this place...’
‘No, I saw it earlier from down there, that’s all. Thought it might be worth a try.’
‘Hmm.’ And then he broke a smile. ‘You’ve clearly got a good radar for pizza.’
‘Honed over many years!’
He chuckled and then his gaze settled. ‘So, what else did you see?’
Interest in his eyes, irresistible warmth.
She felt a fresh smile surging. ‘I saw—walked down—Rua Augusta. It’s one of the main drags, pedestrianised, very pleasant. There’s a massive arch at the end, the Arco da Rua Augusta, which leads into a vast square, and beyond that, literally across the road, is the river.’
‘The Tagus?’
Raised, earnest eyebrows.
She felt her lips curving, her heart dancing. ‘Apparently so.’
His eyes smiled back, crinkling. Crinkling her breath, her focus.
She picked up her glass to reset. ‘I stayed there for a while, then came back up another street and stumbled upon the Santa Justa lift—which I still can’t get over!’
He shook his head. ‘Me neither.’ And then he was turning to look over the rail. ‘It’s a weird-looking thing, isn’t it?’
She followed his gaze, feeling the little heart dip that happened every time she looked at the grey iron tower with its great boxy top that didn’t fit at all with the terracotta roofs around it.
His eyebrows drew in. ‘Incongruous, but oddly compelling.’ And then his eyes found hers. ‘Did you go up it?’
‘Heavens, no! It gives me the heebie-jeebies.’
He pulled a sheepish face. ‘Not just me then?’
She felt a warm rush of fellow feeling, then yet another smile coming. ‘No, not just you. I had a quick look then walked up to Rossio Square, which has these insane waves of mosaic running side to side. You can’t really see them from here but, trust me, they make you feel tipsy when you’re walking across, even when you’ve only had coffee!’
‘Sounds awful.’
But his eyes were smiling, twinkling into hers, making her heart soar. How was this turning out to be so easy? All those years of distance, and now they were flowing together, mingling like tides.
She smiled. ‘Not awful. Just weird—but in a fun way.’
‘I’m sold!’ He grinned, then he was turning, looking down at the square again, his voice shading towards wistfulness. ‘I wish I could have...’
She held her breath. Was he about to say something about Anthony, that he wished he could have come here with him? That would be a breakthrough, would open things right up...
But then suddenly his features were darkening, hardening, his whole demeanour changing. When he turned back to look at her, his gaze was cool, bordering on disdainful.
‘Is that why you came over by yourself last night, Quinn?’ His eyebrows arched in a blatant challenge. ‘So you could hit the streets first thing, get some exploring under your belt?’
