‘You’redazed.’ He nudged her mouth shut with a gentle knuckle beneath her chin. ‘You might have a concussion. You shouldn’t be alone right now.’
‘What makes you think I’d be alone?’
‘No one who cared about you would let you distractedly wander about a foreign country all by yourself and with only a peach to eat.’
She gaped again.What?
‘Let’s get you checked out and fed properly.’ He cupped her face with his hand. ‘Please, I feel terrible about what has happened.’
His touch, his words, stilled her, slicing deep. ‘So this is all about makingyoufeel better?’ she asked huskily.
His eyes narrowed slightly and he released her. ‘Is it always hard for you to accept help from anyone?’
Her friends accused her of exactly that. But she managed alone very well. She’d had to and she was proud of herself for not needing anyone. ‘I like my independence.’
‘As do I. But I’m not averse to accepting the advice of experts when necessary. I’ll take you to your cottage right away after.’
She’d been in a dream state when they’d collided. She was possibly in another now. Because she didn’t say no, even though she should have. And as the truck climbed to the top of the hill and turned, she saw what awaited. A long cypress lined driveway. A castle-like collection of terracotta-coloured buildings at the top. Phoebe just stared. She’d had a beautiful week in her cottage but she’d not had access to a vehicle. She’d only walked into the village—in the opposite direction to this estate—while her one other excursion had been a vineyard tour earlier in the week and the property appearing before her now was enormous compared to that. Hundreds of vines stretched in beautifully combed rows over much of the hill, though an immaculate orchard filled one block, and as they neared she saw terraced gardens cascading from the buildings—topiary, flowers, lawn. It would have to take a bunch of staff to maintain such pristine, pretty perfection.
‘You work here?’
He followed the direction of her gaze and briefly hesitated before answering. ‘Yes.’
‘With those guys.’ Tanned, fit, dangerous, they didn’t look like vineyard workers but then she really had no clue what workers ‘should’ look like.
The truck rolled to a slow stop. He rose and slung another volley of Italian over the side but she didn’t see who he was speaking to. Then he turned back to her with a fiercely intent expression.
‘You really don’t need to carry me,’ she said even though she knew it was pointless.
‘But it bothers you so delightfully.’ He grinned.
‘Because I’m embarrassed,’ she murmured as he scooped her up. ‘You’re a complete stranger.’
And was he not embarrassed by his near nudity? Clearly not. He was definitely able to revel in his physicality and good for him—he had a million muscular reasons to.
‘I thought I was an angel,’ he countered.
Oh, hell. So shehadsaid that aloud? ‘I was confused,’ she mumbled.
‘Which is why I’m worried you might be concussed.’ He carried her round the back of the building into a huge private courtyard.
Phoebe gaped at the azure pool that came into view. ‘I didn’t black out.’
‘No? You were pretty woozy when you were on the ground.’
He didn’t take her into the main building, but a smaller one on the far side of that stunning pool. The glass doors were wide open. The room was cool with its marble tiles and he set her down in a chair, draped a soft throw across her shoulders, then crouched beside her. ‘So do you mind if I check?’
‘Check what?’
‘Your head.’
Oh. Right.It wasn’t the fall making her brainless. It was all him. She couldn’t tear her focus from the rising warmth in his brown eyes. A slight pressure on her chin made her turn slightly. She dropped her gaze but encountered his chest. Broad, tanned shoulders framed all kinds of muscles she didn’t know the names of but, oh, boy, they were there, they were defined, they were delicious. He really was a stunning example of masculine strength. She had to close her eyes—which only made it worse.
‘Tell me if it hurts anywhere,’ he muttered and began gently pressing over her scalp.
It didn’t hurt, it felt far too nice. She held her breath and tried to stop the fantasies, but it was impossible.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked huskily.
