Shemmm’d again with a level of appreciation Valentino wished was directed at him, not an olive, and when she licked her lips, he swore he felt it all the way down to his balls. Foodie Peyton was a sight to behold. That dreamy expression combined with an oil-smeared mouth he wanted nothing more than to relieve her of was the XXX fantasy he never knew he needed.
The one that would haunt his nights to eternity.
Why hadn’t he fed her that night of the wedding? Ordered platters of food for her to taste and savour. For him to taste and savour. To smear on her body and lick right off.
He was staring, he realised, but then so was she, their gazes locked. Her breathing sounded a little erratic but then his did also – like he’d done a hell of a lot more than sit on his ass and hand-feed a woman.
Was she thinking about that night too? Or was she in the here and now, wanting more?
Dragging his eyes from her face, which was a delightful mix of uncertainty and newly discovered pleasure, he said, ‘That’s nothing. Wait till you taste this camembert. It’s incredible. So rich.’
Valentino loaded up a piece of bread with the soft cheese. ‘Did you know,’ he said, distracting himself from the ridiculous tremble of his hand, ‘that you shouldn’t have cheese on crackers? It should always be eaten with bread?’
He offered it to her again, like he had the olives, already anticipating the part of her mouth as he pushed it in, but she intercepted with her fingers, relieving him of the loaded disc of bread. Which was probably well advised but disappointing nonetheless.
Watching her teeth sink into the bread andnotthink about how she’d sunk her teeth into his bicep during one of her orgasms was an exercise in futility.
‘Remember,slowly,’ he said, forcing himself to concentrate on the here and now, not on that night. ‘Let it melt against your tongue.’
Her small moan and the brief flutter of her eyelids when the cheese hit her taste buds almost undid him. Feeding this woman who had clearly been starving – physically and sexually – for too many years was gratifying on so many levels.
‘Good, isn’t it?’ Valentino made a disc for himself and another for Peyton, which he placed in front of her this time.
No more hand-feeding,buddy.
‘Divine,’ she agreed and devoured the second portion in record time.
Valentino made her another, which she ate slowly this time as if remembering to enjoy it before washing it down with a mouthful of wine. He quirked an eyebrow. ‘Another?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m good for the moment.’
A laugh from McKenzie drifted out from the open doors and Peyton glanced her way, smiling affectionately. When she returned her attention to him, it was with eyes that were suddenly shrewd. Picking up her wine, she regarded him over the rim.
‘So…’ She took a sip and placed the glass on the table. ‘You want to tell me what you’re really doing here?’
Valentino blinked at the direct question. Hedidhave an ulterior motive – Harry had sent him to update her on Ben’s condition. If he’d had a choice he would have declined, but Harry had sounded so tapped out emotionally and frankly just… overwhelmed, he hadn’t been able to say no.
And they both knew Peyton had been fretting about the situation.
One eyebrow winged up impatiently. ‘Come on, Valentino, you didn’t just come to meet McKenzie, which you could easily have done tomorrow, and you surely didn’t come to feed me.’
Feeding her was a lot easier and a hell of a lot more pleasant than the news that he’d been carrying since he got off the phone a couple of hours ago.
She stilled then and Valentino watched realisation dawn. ‘You’ve heard about Ben, haven’t you?’ She sat up straighter. ‘I spoke briefly with Harry on Friday night but I haven’t been able to get hold of him since.’
Valentino nodded. ‘He has a significant brain injury. They don’t think it’s fatal, he should pull through barring any complications, but there will be considerable… deficits. They are expecting a lengthy rehabilitation period.’
Peyton stared at him so hard Valentino could hardly bear it. Searching his face for the truth in his words, looking for some kind of gotcha or loophole that softened the awful reality. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any and he could see that she knew it, too.
She shook her head. ‘Oh God, that’s…horrible.’ Her husky voice revealed the depth of her abject sadness.
‘Yes. He’s in the best of hands, though. Intensive care. Round-the-clock specialists. Intensive rehab when he’s able.’
‘Uh huh.’
But the way Peyton looked past him with glassy eyes, like the news was still too raw to look at him, told Valentino she understood that even with all the medical support, it would be a long hard road ahead for Harry’s grandson.
Picking up her wine, she took another sip, still staring past him as her knuckles whitened around the stem. She took two more sips before the wine glass landed back on the table and she fixed her gaze on him. ‘You could have told me that over the phone.’
