Straightening, she started to reach for it. He pulled it back at the last moment, a gleam in his eyes that set her pulse racing. ‘You may use it on one condition.’
Her spirit plummeted. ‘Of course you have conditions,’ she snapped. She raised her hand, intending to wave him away. But curiosity overcame her will and she curled her hand into a loose fist. ‘What conditions?’
‘I would like to see you at work.’
Her lips parted in a soft gasp. Once again, he’d succeeded in pulling the rug from under her. ‘Why?’ she blurted, wariness and a more curious sensation tunnelling through her.
‘You insist I’ve misunderstood you. I’d like to set those misconceptions straight.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘Insideorout?’he pressed when her muteness persisted.
Lotte, still fighting a blush and the heady acceptance of his olive branch, shot her gaze to the window. ‘Outside, please.’
Even before his brusque nod and the narrowing of his eyes, she knew what was coming.
‘And yes, I’ll do my best to prevent any mishaps,’ she said, then because she couldn’t help herself, she added, tongue firmly in cheek, ‘as long as you do your part to avoid fomenting my temper.’
The tightness around his mouth eased a touch. ‘I would prefer a blanket pledge to be on your best behaviour.’
She made a show of glancing around, then throwing out her arms. ‘I don’t see stables around. You must be losing your touch of turning your wishes into horses, Your Highness.’
And for the briefest nanosecond, Lotte could’ve sworn she saw amusement glint in his eyes, before he turned to glance out the window.
‘It’ll be dark soon. You can have your shoot in the morning.’
Disappointment dashed through her, but anticipation levelled it out soon enough. And to her surprise they spent what amounted to a skirmish-free evening where she managed to read a few more chapters of her book, while Valenti brooded in the armchair, a sleek-looking laptop commanding the entirety of his attention, while also managing to make her acutely aware that he was cataloguing every breath she took.
It was almost a relief to head up to bed shortly after nine p.m. and fall into a dreamless sleep after a curious hour of wondering why she didn’t feel inclined or defiant about tending to the need simmering in her pelvis.
Whatever the cause, she was glad to be free of the thought when she was showered, dressed and downstairs by seven.
To find Valenti also fully dressed, the sofa bed tucked away.
He held out a cup of steaming coffee which she accepted, fighting self-consciousness when his steady gaze seared over her, lingering on her face. ‘Sleep well?’
Remembering the hour of tossing and turning, her face heated. ‘As well as can be expected,’ she muttered, then blew on the hot liquid, her belly clenching when his gaze immediately zeroed in on the motion. It took every crumb of composure to take a small sip and swallow, before forcing her body to turn away from him. To appear nonchalant as she looked out the window to the white and green landscape.
‘Any ideas on where you’d like to start?’
She grimaced inwardly, knowing her answer would make her seem flaky, but then she shrugged. Pretending she was something she wasn’t would only end up shaming herself and denting her integrity. And didn’t she promise herself she was done attempting to contort herself to fit his expectations? ‘Inspiration will come when it comes. I won’t force it.’ She paused, expecting his judgement when the silence stretched. ‘I’m sure you think it’s silly?’ she asked, after blowing and sipping her coffee, and earning herself another sizzling scrutiny.
‘You forget I have a twin who conjures magical creations out of thin air. I’m not unfamiliar with people who fly by the seat of their pants,’ he said evenly.
‘But you don’t approve?’ she pressed, wanting to know his thoughts despite all her frothy pep talks.
He breached the gap between them in two large steps, and for an age, he stared down at her with those brooding silver eyes. Assessing. Digging. ‘I will never be an advocate for unbridled chaos but I’m learning that controlled chaos has a certain…appeal.’
Why her breath snagged so hard in her throat she was extremely reluctant to examine. Mostly because she freely admitted she was terrified of what the results would be. Especially when Valenti bracketed that answer with a hand raised slowly to her face, his hard knuckles brushing her cheeks almost experimentally, cataloguing the expulsion of her breath for another long moment before he stepped back.
‘Finish your coffee,litla. The morning’s wasting.’
She studiously avoided staring after him as he went into the living area, needing the few minutes to get herself under control after the lightest of touches had sparked an inferno.
Outside, the cold, crisp air did nothing to alleviate the heat building inside her.
Or was it the blistering awareness of him as he talked her through how to best utilise the camera? All she knew was that she was breathing far too much of his rousing scent, was far too keen on the dexterity of his strong hands and the thrum of his rumbling voice. Hell, even his long-legged stride and the crunch of his boots on snow made her insides somersault.
