Seduced on the Red Carpet

“Yes. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Are you any good?”

“Naturally,” she said, hoping he didn’t ask to see any of her last few shots. “Don’t you have some work to do in the fields? Mud to wallow in? Something?”

He tsked. “If you’re not nice to me, Livia, I’m not going to give you your present.”

Present? Really? That sounded interesting, but she couldn’t be swayed from her absolute and unadulterated dislike of him. This man disturbed her way too much. “Thanks, but I don’t want anything from you. Except maybe your swift departure.”

“Really?” That amber gaze skimmed over her, silky-smooth and smoldering. “You sure about that?” he wondered softly.

She stared at him, her dry mouth and tight throat rendering her incapable of answering. That was bad enough. Worse was the sudden fullness in her breasts and the subtle but insistent ache between her thighs.

The moment lasted way too long, until she managed to find her voice and create a diversion. “I wouldn’t mind taking your Black Yankees cap.”

His eyes widened with surprise. “You know the Negro Leagues?”

“I…love baseball. I’m reading a Jackie Robinson biography right now.”

“Oh,” he said faintly.

So much for her diversion. This revelation that they had baseball in common seemed only to sharpen his interest; she felt it swirling around her and wrapping her up tight in its cocoon.

He didn’t seem to like it any better than she did and his next words came with great reluctance, as though he was kicking them out of his mouth.

“You’re really something. You know that?”

She couldn’t answer. The air was pregnant with so many things between them that she couldn’t trust her voice.

He blinked and recovered and, unsmiling, presented her with a bowl that he’d hidden behind his back.

Oh, wow. It was filled with the most beautiful dusty purple grapes.

“Oh,” she said helplessly, feeling special and decadent, like a latter-day Cleopatra who’d been gifted with all the treasures this wondrous land had to offer. “Thank you.”

He dimpled again, but the piercing intensity with which he studied her didn’t diminish by so much as a watt. Was this a seduction? Did he know that she would have thrown a diamond bracelet back in his face, but her driving curiosity would never let her reject a bowl of grapes from a vintner?

“You’re welcome. They’re pinot noir. Do you drink pinot?”

“Yes. Are they ripe?”

They had to be; she could smell their fragrance already.

“You tell me.”

He pulled one off the stem for her and her unwilling gaze went to his hands, which were long-fingered and even with short, clean nails. That hand had touched hers yesterday. That hand had made her feel all kinds of unwanted sensations. That hand was trouble.

To her agonized dismay, he wiped and then squeezed the grape in a careful grip between thumb and forefinger, making her wonder how a man this size could be so gentle. The grape burst open into a star pattern with a bead of dark juice that was one of the most sensual things she’d ever seen as it trickled down his brown skin.

Her gaze flickered up to his face. She couldn’t breathe. “It’s ripe.”

“What does it taste like?”

He held it to her lips, utterly still and watchful, as though the earth would stop revolving for him until he saw what she would do. There was only one thing she could do. Opening her mouth, she took the grape, taking care to brush his thumb with her tongue as she did.

His breath hitched. “What does it taste like?”

His skin tasted salty and warm, absolutely delicious. But he was probably asking about the grape, so she pressed it to the roof of her mouth, crushing it and letting the flavors wash over her. “I don’t know—”

“Yes, you do,” he urged.

She thought hard, struggling to put it into words. “Strawberry, maybe…or is it raspberry? With something that’s a little, I don’t know…a little spicy.”

That pleased him. Those eyes of his crinkled at the corners, thrilling her beyond all reason. “I’ll make a world-class viticulturist out of you yet, Livia,” he murmured.

With that, he pressed the bowl into her hands and turned to go, granting her wish to be alone, and she stared after him, wanting him to stay.

Chapter Four

The next day, after a bicycle tour in the morning and an open-air lunch on the terrace, Livia resumed her exploration of the winery grounds. She still hadn’t seen the stone chapel that was around here somewhere—the whole point of her visit was to scope out the chapel and report back to Rachel on its suitability for her wedding—and there was no time like the present to find it.

There’d been no sign of J.R., and she was glad about that.

Really. She was glad.

“Come on, Willard.” Heading to the far end of the terrace, she consulted her map and clicked her fingers at her sidekick, who’d again been outside her door this morning and had waited for her at the bike stand during the tour.

No answer.

“Willard?” She raised her head and looked around.

Nothing.

Had that silly dog finally abandoned her? Feeling unaccountably disgruntled, she put her hands on her hips and scanned in all directions for her unfaithful companion, but there was no sign of him.

Well, fine, Willard. Fine. She could explore by her damn self.

At the edge of the terrace, though, she discovered a surprise. A pretty little rock waterfall had been carved into the hill like stair steps and the water flowed into a small pond with the kind of relaxing trickle that people back in L.A. acquired through the use of programmable sleep machines available in high-end gadget stores. Potted plants, flowers and lush grass surrounded the whole area, and there, at the end of several enormous stepping stones, sat the biggest doghouse Livia had ever seen. At least she thought it was a doghouse.

Wait—was it a doghouse?

Fire-engine red with a black roof and honest-to-God wraparound porch with white rails, it had a white boneshaped cutout over the arched doorway, so…yeah, it was definitely a doghouse. Oh, and there behind it were King Kong–sized stainless steel food and water bowls, so—

“Are you a princess?”

Whoa. Unidentified small person voice. Was this the girl that’d been following her? Livia glanced all around but there was no one in sight. “Uh,” she said, still searching and beginning to feel dumb, “are you talking to me?”

“Yes.”