“Yes, of course. Thank you for the tea.”

“I probably shouldn’t have spoken about Vanni’s feelings. What do I know? It’s not as if he ever says anything of significance to me. Still, an old woman gets used to reading a man when she’s known him since he was this high,” she said, indicating a place on her leg below her apron. Emma smiled. “Forgive me if I made you uncomfortable,” she said. Emma was moved by her sincere, warm manner.

“You didn’t. You’ve made me feel very comfortable here, in fact,” Emma assured.

“I’ll keep an eye out for you. When you’re finished, I’ll show you to Vanni’s suite. He said to put you there.”

“Thank you,” Emma said, watching as the housekeeper left her to her tea.

In truth, she hadn’t looked worried because she was thinking of what Mrs. Denis had said about Vanni’s tone of voice when he spoke of her. It’d been the mention of the dinner they’d be attending tonight that reminded her uncomfortably that she’d told Vanni to return all the clothing he’d so generously bought her. Had he carried out her request or ignored it? He’d told Amanda in his message that she needed to only bring herself, and he’d have everything arranged for her. She’d taken him at his word, bringing only some bare necessities and toiletries. Now that she was here in these glamorous surroundings, however, she started to “get” just how truly out of place she’d be wearing one of the sundresses she’d brought.

A half hour later, Mrs. Denis led her down an arched-ceiling, whitewashed stone hallway to a closed door.

“Oh, how lovely,” Emma breathed out when she followed the housekeeper into the room. Like the rest of the house, it was flooded with sunlight from an entire wall made of French doors. It was a large, wide-open room, simple in design, containing a huge iron bed with pristine white bedclothes, two armchairs, and a sofa situated before an ancient-looking fireplace and a fantastic carved antique armoire made of dark stained wood. She saw the large trunk Marco had brought from the plane next to the armoire. Flowers were everywhere, cut ones arranged skillfully on the mantel, bedside, and on the table in the seating area. There were also living ones outside on the shallow terrace beyond the French doors, waving in the sunshine. In the distance was the brilliant azure sea.

“Do you have everything you need?” Mrs. Denis asked her after she’d showed her the bathroom suite and how to regulate the temperature in the room.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Vanni says it’ll be a late night. Why don’t you rest?”

“I’ll definitely try.”

The housekeeper smiled and left her. Emma took a quick shower and freshened up in the bathroom, then changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top. Instead of drawing the drapes like Mrs. Denis had showed her, she opened a pair of French doors and crawled into the sumptuous bed. She pressed her cheek to one cool down pillow and inhaled deeply. Not finding what she craved, she switched pillows, smiling contentedly as she nestled deeper.

She fell asleep to the sound of the wind rustling in the trees and the sea in the distance, the scent of Vanni filling her nose.

Chapter 29

“What are you smiling about while you dream, mon petit ange?”

Emma’s eyes sprung open at the sound of his deep, resonant voice in her head.

Vanni looked down at her from where he sat at the edge of the bed. He wore a blue-and-white striped shirt and cobalt blue tie along with a pair of gray pants. The bangs of his brown hair had fallen forward, parenthesizing his sea-colored eyes. She’d never been so glad to see anything in her whole life than she was his face in that moment.

She reached up and touched the scruff on his lean jaw, assuring herself he was there.

“You,” she replied with sleepy honesty.

The small smile faded from his firm lips. He leaned down and kissed her, his slow, patient cadence quickly turning faster and more forceful. His hand trailed down her side and cupped her hip, rolling her closer to him. She moaned into his mouth and delved her fingers into his hair, losing herself in his taste.

“I don’t appreciate you depriving me of this,” he firmed his hand on her hip and plucked at her lips, “for four whole nights.”

“I was . . . mad at . . . you,” she reminded him, kissing him back hungrily.

“Are you still?” he murmured, biting gently at her lower lip. Emma shivered in delight, and he pulled her closer into his arms.

The truth was, it was nearly impossible to stay mad with him nibbling at her mouth and his scent filling her nose, especially when she hadn’t seen him for days. “Sort of,” she mumbled, returning the favor and scraping her teeth along his lower lip, her actions completely at odds with her words. He gave a low groan and swept his hand along her waist and ribs, stopping next to her breast. He cupped her side. “I don’t like being manipulated, Vanni.”

“I wasn’t manipulating you,” he said, glancing up to meet her stare. “I only have you for so long, Emma. Do you really blame me for wanting you every minute I possibly can? I was trying to ensure that by calling Mrs. Ring in advance. You say I did it for myself, and maybe I did. I told you I was selfish from the beginning.”

For a moment, she didn’t speak. She understood he wasn’t used to being in relationships. He handled her like he would any other task in his busy world.

“I’m not something to check off your work list,” she said quietly. “But I do understand that you were doing it with good intentions. It’s just that my work is . . .”

“Your domain. I understand,” he said soberly. “I won’t do anything like that again. But I can’t regret it this time,” he said pointedly, his nostrils flaring slightly as he looked down at her. His hand slid down to her ass. He cupped a buttock and kneaded it with his large hand, making her thoughts scatter. “I wanted you here.”

“And whatever Vanni wants, Vanni gets?” she asked dryly, although she knew full well it was the absolute truth most of the time.

“Obviously not, or you would have been here sooner. But yes, I was willing to do whatever was necessary to make it happen. It didn’t happen as quickly as I would have wanted, but you’re here now,” he said, his gaze narrowing on her face as he squeezed her buttock and stroked the slope of her hip, his manner intent and thrillingly possessive. “I’m too happy about it to apologize.”

“Congratulations on the Montand car winning the time trials today. Marco told me,” she said softly.

“Luck came with you,” he said, leaning down to capture her mouth with his. By the time he lifted his head from their kiss a moment later, her flesh had gone warm and tingly, her sex soft and liquid.

“I do regret one thing about my protest, now that I’m here,” she said, scraping her fingernails along his neck and feeling the slight shudder that went through him. It was intoxicating, knowing how her touch affected him. She saw his dark brows go up in a query when he noticed her anxious expression.

“Mrs. Denis told me about the dinner tonight,” she explained. “You said not to bring anything in the message you sent through Amanda. Is the wardrobe you bought me here in France?”

“You said you wanted me to return it all, so I did,” he said, his expression deadpan. Her heart seemed to plummet into her belly. She hadn’t actually expected him to say that. She’d never regretted her angry outburst more. “Isn’t that what you told me you wanted?” he prodded quietly.

She nodded, trying to look happy about his decision. She couldn’t be both miffed at his heavy-handedness and desirous of his gifts at once. But she didn’t want the glamorous clothing for herself, she wanted them because she didn’t want to embarrass him . . . or herself, she added fairly in the privacy of her mind. His handsome mouth quirked slightly in amusement.