Disappointment hit but she tried to hide it. Tried to lighten her own intensity. ‘You’re not carrying me anywhere again.’
He laughed abruptly. ‘One moment then.’
He disappeared around the corner, but a few minutes later returned to view, riding a gleaming red Vespa. A spare helmet dangled from one of the handles while her missing sandal dangled from the other. Phoebe gave up trying to stop herself from staring at him so obviously. She would never see him again and he was too stunning not to appreciate for these final moments.
He parked the moped and grabbed both her sandal and the helmet. She froze as he carefully removed the ice pack and set her sandal back on her foot as if she were Cinderella herself. She still couldn’t move as he put the helmet on her and bent to fasten the strap. The action brought him deliciously close to her again. She couldn’t resist drinking in his perfect features—that sharp bone structure, those deep-brown eyes now locked on her. He was close enough to kiss and surely he was about to—
He ran his tongue along his lower lip but stepped back to offer his hand. She took it and he drew her out of the chair, which then meant she was standing too close—once more as if they were about to dance. She really wanted to dance with him.
‘You ever ridden one of these?’ he asked softly.
Her mouth gummed so all she could do was shake her head.
Focus.
‘You need to hold tight and move with me.’
Right. Sure.That instruction was hardly helping her melting thing.
He took position on the machine and waited for her to climb behind him, his gaze simmering with challenge. Phoebe put her bag across her body and spun it so it rested on her back. She straddled the bike and gingerly put her hands on his waist but he bowed his head, firmly took her hands and repositioned them on his chest. One a little too high. One a little too low.
She inwardly shivered. So that’s how he was playing it? A spurt of defiance shot through her as he started the engine and exited the courtyard. She was leaving Italy anyway and he was daring her. So she widened her fingers, flagrantly feeling more of him. Her inner thighs encased the outside of his. Her breasts and abs were glued to his back. It was intimate and intoxicating and yes, arousing. It wasn’t even some fast, powerful motorcycle, all the vibrations hitting her were purely fromhim. Which was how Phoebe Copeland’s formerly perfect day became—impossibly—moreperfect.
It should have taken no time at all to go back down the hill to her little cottage but she lost all track of direction and of time. She closed her eyes, no longer caring where they were going, she just didn’t want it to end. Which of course, was exactly when she heard the engine slow. She opened her eyes. They weren’t at the cottage. They weren’t even on the road. They were on a narrow track between tall trees and she saw the sparkle of water through the leaves. Edo killed the engine and kicked down the stand.
‘Why have we stopped?’ she asked.
He swiftly rose off the Vespa and turned to face her. His eyes glinted as he grabbed her arms, stopping her from moving off the seat. ‘Because, Phoebe, I think you were just feeling me up.’
She relished the challenge leaping in his eyes.
‘You think?’ She challenged right back. ‘Youput my hands where you wanted them.’
‘I did,’ he admitted shamelessly. ‘Do you want to know where I want to put mine?’
CHAPTER TWO
EDOBENEDETTI HELDhis breath as the incomparable, utterly unexpected Phoebe gazed up at him with heat simmering in her eyes. Not an English rose, but a snowdrop—an arctic blonde, so fair she’d be burned in minutes. Gorgeous, with her long limbs and notentirelyfrosty exterior, but totally out of place in this—his—part of the world.
‘All right, then,’ she breathed. ‘Tell me.’
‘Tell?’ Primal lust beat out primal caution and he moved closer. ‘Or show?’
Her teeth pressed on her lower lip and his tension surged to scorching. He’d felt terrible for colliding with her. How he’d managed to remain upright, he still didn’t know, but he’d been felled completely in another way by the woman he’d unintentionally sent sprawling. One look and he’d wanted her. One meal in her company and he wanted her even more. He released her wrists to unclasp his helmet, then hers. He dropped them both to the ground then gently cupped her face, because along with the desire he felt an equally strong level of protectiveness towards her.
It was crazy. It was also irresistible.
‘You wanted to touch my face?’ She sounded amused but her breathing was choppy and colour stained her pale skin.
‘To start.’ Honestly, he couldn’t look at her for long enough.
He knew her real wounds weren’t from their collision today but he didn’t want to pry—orprey—on whatever the cause of the shadow in her eyes was. Maybe they were both a little broken.
For him there’d be no fixing, certainly no forgiveness possible. He didn’t know why he’d even mentioned guilt. He lived a perfectly happy, shallow life ignoring his personal history as best he could. It was the only way he could live with himself at all. He couldn’t change the past: couldn’t bring back his brother, couldn’t be anyone other than his stunted self—so he kept his distance from relationships. He’d fudged another truth with her easily enough—she hadn’t realised the vineyard was his. She thought he worked there and he’d not explained because this was nothing more than a moment.
Sex.When had he had it last? Was itthatlong ago? He couldn’t remember. Didn’t care. He just wanted to get near to her and he’d come tantalisingly close to kissing her too many times already. It had almost killed him when he’d checked she’d not hurt her head. Her long, blonde hair had slipped like silk through his fingers while she’d stared at him with those big eyes—azure and clear, like the water of the Mediterranean’s best hidden beach. Her pouty, rose-coloured full lips had parted in tempting invitation. It had taken everything in him not to kiss her then. It was taking everything not to kiss her now. But she’d taken a bad spill and that was his fault and he needed to know she was sure.
He smoothed his thumbs along her jawline, unable to resist the caress, to feel her beauty, not just see it. Her skin gleamed like porcelain but it felt soft and warm,stunning. And now he just wanted to touch more—tasteall.
