To Win His Heart

She probably looked as messy as she felt still dressed in the same skirt and blouse she’d been wearing when he’d last seen her. Everything needed laundering.

Not daring to look at him for fear his expression would terrify her she said, “Sorry to wake you, but now that I’m here you can go back to bed. I know the way to my room.”

Without a second’s hesitation, she trudged up the staircase to the yellow room she’d chosen for her own. It was heaven to walk in the en suite bathroom and disrobe, anticipating a hot shower.

There’d be

en too many boat, train and plane rides in one day. She stood under the spray and let the water wash away the grime before she worked the shampoo into a lather.

This was pure luxury. When she wandered into the bedroom a few minutes later with her hair and body wrapped in two fluffy towels, she discovered Luc standing inside the doorway watching her. He was too far away for her to see the look in his eyes. It was just as well she couldn’t.

“I don’t have anything clean to wear. Do you think you could lend me a T-shirt while I put in a wash?”

“There’s a robe in the closet.” His voice sounded like it had come from a dark cavern, but so far he hadn’t made a move to throw her out yet. A good sign.

She opened the door to the walk-in closet and found a fleece robe in pale blue hanging on a hook. After putting it on and cinching the belt around her slender waist, she emerged with both towels draped over her arm.

“It’s lovely. Thank you for your hospitality. I’ll wash my clothes after I’ve had a good six hours of sleep. Then I’ll feel like a new person.” She tossed the towels over the back of a chair and climbed under the covers of the bed. “Good night.”

She rolled on her side so her back was facing him.

When he turned off the light, she assumed he was either too exhausted or too enraged, or maybe both, to deal with her until tomorrow. But in that regard, she turned out to be dead wrong. The side of the bed gave right behind her.

“What do I have to do to get rid of you?”

If she hadn’t known he’d purposely lied to her about the phone—if he hadn’t covered her mouth with a hunger equal to her own, his question would have driven her away for good.

“You still owe me a Riviera trip. All you have to do is call someone to fit the Gabbiano with a new sail and repair the short in the wiring. When I wake up, I’ll get us packed and we’ll fly back to Vernazza. We can buy some books and groceries at the port.”

“That’s all I have to do,” he murmured with quiet menace.

“Well, there might be some other things, but I’d rather you surprised me. Oh—there is one thing—”

She turned over and found herself wedged against his hip. “We’ll need to stop by the hospital first to get your phone. We don’t want to go off this time without it. You know. In case something else goes wrong and we’re stranded.

“It was just plain lucky Giovanni remembered about the wiring and called Fabio. We were down to a couple of eggs and one plum. We might not be so lucky again.”

He didn’t move a muscle, but she saw something flicker in the silvery recesses of his eyes illuminated by the light from the hall.

“Where have you been today?” he demanded.

“Here and there.”

“What in the hell does that mean?”

“Sometimes at home when I’m upset, I ride the subway to the end of the line and back while I think.”

“You were upset?”

“Well naturally. Our trip turned out to be a fiasco, and I’d had my heart set on it.”

She heard a sharp intake of breath. “So you rode the train to the end of the line and back, is that it?”

“More or less.”

“That must have been some ride.”

“It was. I met at least fifty playboys who all wanted to show me the time of my life if I would let them.”