The warm and pleasant air hits me as we get out of the car and walk around. “Woah,” I say once we make it to the back. The villa sits atop the hill, overlooking the entire valley of olive groves, rows and rows of grape vines, and the village. And beyond it, the Pennine Alps that run along the Swiss border.
“This is incredible,” Maggie says, taking in the view.
“I did good, right?” I grin, pulling her into my arms.
“Very good,” she says, biting her lip.
“Some would say good enough for a reward?” I tease, kissing the side of her neck. She tilts her head to give me more access and I smirk, running my nose along her skin.
“I wouldn’t go that far, I need to see the rest of the villa first.” She laughs, sneaking out of my arms.
“What if I said there’s a pool?”
“That would merit a reward,” she says, tapping her lips with a finger.
“Well then, let’s go unpack thecar.”
Maggie gets too distractedby the interior of the villa and exploring all the rooms and by the time we’re done taking in the architecture, it’s dinner time. I read through the house manual, impressed by all the amenities they offer—housekeeping every other day, a private chef per request, and a heated pool.
“Rowan, did you see this?” Maggie says, pulling out a giant platter of charcuterie from the fridge. “There’s a note.”
I take the board from her and place it on the large kitchen island as she reads the note. “Please enjoy our finest selection ofantipastoand pair it with the wine of your choosing. The cellar is located at the bottom level.”
“Do you want to pick a wine? I’ll take this outside for us,” I say.
The sun is just about to set, giving the view an orange and purple glow. I take two blankets from inside, grab the board and place it on the stone table in front of the patio couch.
Maggie comes out a minute later with a dry red wine that she already opened and two stemmed glasses. “Is it too soon to say I’m in love with this place?”
I chuckle and pat the couch spot next to me. She sits and I arrange a blanket over our legs and another around her bare shoulders.
“Thank you,” she says, a small blush on her cheeks. I lean in and kiss the spot, reveling in the fact that, for once, we’re not hiding away in one of our bedrooms or a hotel somewhere.
“Anything for you, Mags,” I say and pour us each a glass of wine.
We enjoy the spread from our hosts, moaning around eachbite of local cheese and prosciutto and sipping on the wine until our glasses are empty.
“Did you try the grapes?” she asks, grabbing a small handful in her palm.
“Not yet.”
“They’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” she says, bringing one to my lips. I take it, grazing her finger with my teeth in the process.
Maggie’s reaction is immediate. Her blue eyes widen in pleasure and she leans in closer, her eyelashes fluttering over her cheeks. I give an exaggerated moan as I swallow the grape and she blushes again, narrowing her eyes at me.
Grinning, I pull her into my lap and capture her lips in a kiss. We stay like that for what feels like an eternity, our lips moving together, our tongues exploring. My hands roam up and down her back under the blanket, her hands tangle in my hair and I can’t think of a more perfect moment. Wine drunk and happy.
We open another bottle and finish it inside by the fireplace. Maggie changes into a gold silky nightgown that I’m absolutely obsessed with, and we end the night in a heap on the floor after I crawl my way to her, worshiping her body, wanting to tell her how much she means to me.
Once we get into bed, my body is buzzing with the aftershocks of pleasure and my brain is a little foggy from the wine, and maybe that’s what makes me confess in a soft voice, “I love you, Mags.” Her blue eyes are wide and glassy when she looks at me, only the moonlight illuminating her soft features. I close my eyes and hold her tight, willing sleep to pull me under. I’m crushed that she doesn’t say it back, but what did I expect? She’s never wanted a relationship.
The next morning,I find Maggie on the patio, the same blanket from last night wrapped tightly around her shoulders. There’s a mist over the valley and a chill that seeps into my bones as I approach her and take a seat next to her on the couch.
Her head rests on my shoulder and we stay like that for what feels like forever, until she pulls back and says, “Can we make a deal?”
I raise my eyebrows, lips twitching in amusement. As if I wouldn’t give her the world. As if I wouldn’t agree to anything she threw at me. “What is it?”
“You said the town is small and it’s unlikely people will know who we are. Can we just—betogether while we’re here? Forget about the agreement for this week?” she asks, her hand squeezing my thigh.
