“How did you know I was at Macy’s?”

“Emma? Where?” he growled softly.

“Okay,” she said, hearing the amused warning in his tone. She looked around the setting of the vintage, huge department store. “I’m in the perfume section on the first floor. Why?”

She glanced up, noticing that the salesgirl who had sprayed Emma’s wrist was staring in wide-eyed fascination over Emma’s shoulder.

“Because I’m looking for you,” Vanni said.

Emma’s mouth fell open in shock. She’d heard him speak in addition to hearing his voice on the phone. She looked over her shoulder.

He was hanging up his phone and slipping it into his back pocket.

“There you are,” he said briskly, blue-green eyes lowering over her in a satisfied manner. It was as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to approach her in the middle of a bustling department store. “I was worried I’d have trouble finding you.”

Emma spun around all the way, sure for several seconds she was hallucinating. But no, he didn’t disappear. He looked very vivid to her stunned eyes, not to mention indecently gorgeous in a sexy, light blue T-shirt that sexily skimmed his lean, muscular form, and a pair of jeans. His tan had grown deeper since she’d last seen him. The color of his shirt, the sun-gilded skin, and the dark brows and lashes all combined to make his aquamarine eyes even more striking looking than usual.

“Vanni . . . what are you doing here?” she mumbled, her brain vibrating with shock—shock and something else even more powerful and primal. A thrill of pure excitement had gone through her at the vision of him, leaving her body tingling.

“I came back from France early.” He stated the obvious. He looked behind her, quirking his dark brows, and Emma glanced over her shoulder. The salesgirl was still staring at him with that goofy grin. She seemed to come to herself at Vanni’s glance and muttered an apology before she walked away, silly smile still in place. Emma rolled her eyes at the show of female weakness he inspired.

“But how did you know I’d be here?” she asked.

“I stopped by your place. Amanda told me you’d gone shopping here.” His gaze flickered over her face and landed on her lips. He glanced aside distractedly when a woman with several large bags bumped into him. “Is this what you came shopping for? Perfume?”

“No,” Emma said, still staring at him. She still couldn’t believe he was here. She had an almost uncontrollable urge to touch him. Memories of sleeping in his arms when they were last together flooded her consciousness. She’d lain against his solid chest all night and stroked him whenever she chose, which was often. She’d allowed him to tie her up and spank her. They’d made love with savage abandonment.

Now he stood here so unexpectedly, and it was all so unbelievable. Her longing for him was still there—in fact it felt doubled. But the idea of touching him suddenly made her shy.

Idiot.

His eyebrows arched. His head lowered and she realized he was waiting for her to speak. “What are you shopping for then?” he prodded quietly as a group of shoppers rushed past them.

“Oh . . . you know. Just looking,” she managed. “A dress, maybe. Possibly a swimsuit.”

His steady stare seemed to swallow her whole.

“Dammit,” he said suddenly under his breath. He stepped forward and his arms encircled her. “When are you going to stop going shy around me?” he asked, his mouth slanted in amusement.

“I’m not—”

His mouth cut her off. All her awkwardness and uncertainty evaporated in a second beneath his kiss. She forgot where she was as he pierced her lips with his tongue and his taste flooded her consciousness.

“God you smell good,” he mumbled a stretched, delicious moment later, nuzzling her ear and neck. Emma shuddered in pleasure. “Is that the perfume you just put on?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Did Dr. Parodas contact you about our test results?” he asked, his nose in her hair, his lips brushing against her ear and making all the hairs stand on end along her neck.

“Yes,” Emma managed, finding his kiss and the topic both highly intimate in these mundane surrounding.

He looked at her, his expression shifting ever so slightly. If Emma had to guess, she’d say he was very satisfied by her answer.

“I have an idea,” he said.

“What?” Emma asked. He might have suggested they jump naked off the Willis Tower together, and she would have done it she was so momentarily enthralled by his eyes and deep, quiet voice.

“I’ll take you to a place where we can shop for a few items you’ll need. Then I’ll take you to bed and keep you there until we’re too weak to get out of it.”

A lightning flash of arousal went through her.

“A few items I’ll need for what?” she asked, choosing to focus on the safer topic.

“For your trip.” He arched his dark brows significantly. “To the Côte d’Azur?” he prompted as if he was gently reminding her of something she’d forgotten because she was so clearly befuddled by his kiss and nearness.

“To the French Riviera?” she asked skeptically.

He smiled, slow and brilliant. She felt that smile at the very pit of her being.

“Now you’re getting it. We leave on Tuesday.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said bemusedly as he took her hand.

“It’s simple. I have to be back in France soon for the buildup to the race and the race itself. We’ll go back in a few days, but when I go, you do. I want you there with me.”

“You do?” Emma asked. She blinked and glanced around at the familiar surroundings of the department store, trying to ground herself. She’d been flying around in his eyes for a moment. “I can’t. I have work.”

“You’ll take a vacation,” he said, pulling on her hand. She fell into step beside him. “You can call the office tomorrow, ask for time off.”

“Maybe, but it might be kind of tricky getting it on short notice,” she said, scurrying to keep up with his long-legged stride, her heart starting to pound with excitement in her chest despite the craziness of his proposal.

“It’ll be fine. You need a vacation. You’ll love the Côte d’Azur . . . and my house there.” He gave her a gleaming sideways glance.

“Maybe,” she hesitated, swept away by the sheer force of him. “It’s possible I could figure out something for work . . . but what about—”

He shook his head and pulled her in front of him as they neared the revolving doors. “I’m not going to this damn race without you,” he stated flatly. “Now . . . let’s go finish your shopping so that I have you to myself,” he said with grim determination, nodding toward the door.

Chapter 24

It was easy to be swept away by the power of his personality . . . by his intense attractiveness. By the time she sat in the passenger seat of a fierce-looking, ebony Montand convertible, reality hit her.

“I have a bone to pick with you,” she told him, smoothing her ruffled hair out of her face as he zoomed out of the parking garage. She’d never known a person to make such tight hairpin turns so effortlessly.

“What about?” he asked unconcernedly.

“I found out about you buying my apartment complex.”

He brought the car to an abrupt halt in the garage.

“How did you find out about that?” he demanded, eyebrows slanting.

“That friend’s father who I told you about? The cop who was going to help me with my deadbeat landlord?” she clarified hotly, all of her confusion and irritation over the discovery blazing high in her suddenly. “Why did you do that? And why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged slightly. “Because I thought you might react like this.”