“Fine. I’ll stay. For a while.” He gave a single nod. “Did you have breakfast?”
She shook her head.
“I’ll bring you a tray.” Rising to his feet, he pointed toward a button beside the bed. “Ring if you need anything.” He paused. “You promise you won’t try to leave?”
“I won’t try to hop down the stairs on one foot or fling myself out the window, if that’s what you mean.”
“Bien,” he said. “As long as I have your word.” Taking her hand, he started to lift it to his lips. A deep tremble went through her, but he stopped before his lips touched her skin.
“Ah,” he said. “I almost forgot. You do not wish me to kiss any part of you.” Looking down at her with his inscrutable dark eyes, he straightened with a mischievous grin. “Rest now.”
Rest? She fidgeted. “What am I supposed to do in bed all day?”
His lips curved. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to keep busy.” He brought her laptop and printer from the desk over to her side table. “Here. Now you can work. Although—” he tilted his head, his dark eyes bright “—if you ask me, there are far more interesting ways you could spend a day in bed….”
She scowled. “I’m not interested in hearing what you like to do in bed!”
“You’re already thinking about kissing me, aren’t you?”
“No!”
He gave her a wicked half grin. “You’re wondering what it would be like, how it would feel, if I pulled you into my arms and stroked your skin.” He leaned forward. “If I slowly kissed up and down the length of your body. Your breasts. Your thighs. If I tasted you with my tongue.”
Heat roared through her, and she couldn’t breathe. “I …”
With a low laugh, he turned away. “Perhaps I can’t kiss you, bella,” he said, “but I can dream of you tonight. All night long.” His voice was almost a purr as he walked away from her. “Ah,
querida, the things you let me do to you in my dreams …”
“I wouldn’t do any of that!” she cried after him. But he’d already left, closing the door behind him.
Annabelle stared at the closed door sulkily.
The things you let me do to you in my dreams …
Lying in bed, with her ankle still propped up and wrapped in ice, she stared out through the open French doors of her veranda. Even from here, she could see the green forest where he’d kissed her. Her lips still tingled from the memory of his mouth on hers. She could still feel how he’d held her against his hard, naked chest as his lips had seized hers, pushing her mouth wide, taking her as his right—
Stop!
She would work. Yes. Work. Booting up her laptop, she opened up her email and scanned new messages. There were invitations to various lavish parties in London and work-related notes from Geography World magazine about her upcoming trip to Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego. Annabelle blinked when she saw an email from Mollie Parker, the daughter of their former gardener at Wolfe Manor. Mollie was a kindhearted soul, one of the few friends that
Annabelle still remained in contact with from her old village. She opened the message.
Just got back from Italy, and I’m feeling like a new woman. Except I’d barely decided to change my gardening business to landscape design when your brother Jacob insisted I make Wolfe Manor my first project. I’ll spare you the gory details, but he left me no choice. After so many years, it’s strange and a bit overwhelming to see him every day now. But he has thrown himself into renovating the house like a man possessed.
Wolfe Manor had fallen into disrepair after Annabelle had left to study photography in London, but it was now being renovated. Jacob was back in England after all these years. Annabelle hardly knew which surprised her more.
Jacob. Annabelle closed her eyes. If he hadn’t saved her from their father almost twenty years ago, she would have died at fourteen. She had no doubt of that. Someday, she would have to thank him. But after all these years, she was afraid to even speak of those terrible days. The last time she’d tried to talk to Jacob about it, he’d left Wolfe Manor the next morning, and disappeared into two decades of exile.
She’d driven him away with her heartbroken tears that night. She drove everyone away, somehow.
With a deep breath, Annabelle looked back at her
laptop screen.
It’s strange and a bit overwhelming to see him every day now, Mollie had said. Annabelle remembered the helpless schoolgirl crush the gardener’s daughter had once had on Jacob. Her eldest brother, the Wolfe heir, had barely noticed her.
Annabelle wondered morosely if any woman ever knew how to love a man in a way that was good for her.