Full of excitement, he entered the villa and bounded up the stairs, but stopped short of entering the room because his breath had caught. An absolutely beautiful woman with a stunning figure was up on the ladder cleaning. She was probably in her midtwenties and totally engaged in her work.
He couldn’t remember the last time any woman had caused him to forget what he was doing or thinking for a minute. Not since Antoinette... The same thing had happened with her. He’d taken one look and was so drawn to her, he’d approached her as if in a trance.
Now here he was again three years later, captured by the sight of this stranger. It threw him. He leaned against the doorjamb for a moment before entering.
CHAPTER TWO
AFTER LUNCH, CAMI was back to the second bedroom down the hall from the curved staircase. With her safety glasses on, plus her rubber gloves, she’d climbed the ladder she and her mom had placed on top of the drop cloth.
First, she’d removed the light fixture in the center of the room in order to clean it. Then she vacuumed the cobwebs off the ceiling and cove moldings before scrubbing everything.
As she started to climb down to wash out her flat board mop, she caught sight of a tall, black-haired male lounging against the doorjamb at the entrance. It surprised her so much it caused her to stumble. “Oh—” she cried.
Like lightning he sprang forward on those long powerful legs and saved her from landing on the hardwood floor with a bang, like the mop. “I’m sorry to have startled you,” he said in a deep voice, lowering her carefully. She felt his warm breath on her skin.
“It was my fault. Thank you.” She stepped back, marveling at his speed and embarrassed to have been that clumsy in front of him.
“I should have knocked on the bedroom door to let you know I was standing there.”
She took in the sight of this man who was probably twenty-nine or thirty, dressed in a black cashmere sweater and gray trousers. With those alive black eyes, he was so incredibly attractive, Cami struggled to gain her composure.
“I was deep in thought and probably wouldn’t have heard it. Madame Gilbert mentioned the owner would be in and out.”
He nodded. “I had something else on my mind too. This room is going to be my son’s. I was trying to think what color to paint it tomorrow.”
All the bedrooms had off-white walls with white moldings. “How old is he?” She was still trying to recover. The faint tang of the soap he used in the shower lingered.
“Alain is eighteen months.”
A father with a toddler. She wondered if he resembled his gorgeous papa. “Then you must be planning to turn this room into a nursery.”
“I was at a furniture store earlier picking out everything and fell in love with a white crib and dresser.”
That made her smile. “Is he into trucks or cars?”
A light entered his eyes. “Both. And boats.”
While Cami chuckled, trying not to study his striking masculine features through her safety glasses, Madame Gilbert appeared in the doorway.
“Raoul, the gardener is downstairs waiting to talk to you.”
“Tell him I’ll be right there.”
After she disappeared, he plucked the mop off the floor and handed it to Cami. Their hands brushed, causing an unbidden current of electricity to dart through her body. She could still feel the imprint of his hands on her arms. “Forgive me for interrupting your work.”
She shook her head. “Thank you for saving me from a crash. All I need is a broken leg.”
“Heaven forbid,” he murmured. This close he was so handsome it hurt. She’d heard that expression before, but for the first time in her life she felt the truth of it. “It was the least I could do after all your hard work. I can see differences already. We’ll definitely be seeing each other again tomorrow,” he said with a smile that made her legs go weak before leaving the bedroom.
Long after he’d gone, his smile stayed with her. Something about it haunted her, as if she’d seen it before. Her heart kept thudding. She’d forgotten it could do that.
Struggling to rein in her thoughts, she worked harder than ever, but couldn’t forget what had happened. When she’d finished everything and had cleaned up, she carried her equipment to the third bedroom and spread the drop cloth on the floor in preparation for the next day. She put her safety glasses in her purse.
After pulling
on her sweater, she walked to the master bedroom to collect her slender, brunette mother who was cleaning the bathroom’s exquisite Provençal floor tiles. “How’s it going, Maman?”
“How it always goes,” came the typical response, then a wry laugh escaped. “I’ll be ready to leave in a minute.”