“We should go downstairs,” she said, blushing. “Everyone might wonder what we’re doing if we don’t show up for dinner.”
“Let them wonder.” Smiling down at her, he stroked her cheek. “We’ll ask Mrs.
Gutierrez to bring up dinner. We have no reason to even get dressed.”
She looked scandalized. “We couldn’t!”
“Why not?”
“Well—” she bit her lip “—it would set a bad example for the boys. I wouldn’t want them to think it’s acceptable behavior to sleep with their girlfriends before they’re married….”
“Ah, querida,” Stefano said tenderly, laughing. “You’re an old-fashioned girl.”
She stiffened in his arms. “I suppose I am.”
He stopped her with a kiss, then looked in her eyes. “I meant it as a compliment.”
Naked, they faced each other. But for once, Stefano wasn’t looking at her body. He took her hands in his own, staring in wonder at her beautiful face. Her gray eyes were endless pools of light.
He felt her warmth, heard the hush of her breath in the shadowy room. He realized he couldn’t see the scar on her face anymore. All he saw was her beauty—inside and out.
He’d never felt like this before.
He … cared for her.
You are the worst possible man I could choose to love. The echo of her voice rang hollowly in his ears. You will never be faithful to any woman. And I couldn’t take another betrayal, Stefano. I really couldn’t.
A cold jolt went through him, but he pushed the feeling away. He would just enjoy their four days. It would be a short, hot affair. That was all he ever wanted, anyway. Right?
Right?
He dropped her hands and turned away. “If we’re going downstairs to have dinner, I’d better go take a shower.”
“I’ll miss you,” she said wistfully behind him, then gave a goofy laugh. “Isn’t that ridiculous? How can I possibly miss you for ten minutes while you’re in the shower?”
Four days. Only four days. And the clock was ticking.
Ignoring the lump in his throat, he turned back and crossed the room in three steps.
“You won’t miss me, querida.” He looked down at her, and his body went hard as his heart turned over in his chest. “I’m taking you with me.”
Chapter Nine
Annabelle listened to Stefano’s even, quiet breathing as he held her naked against his chest, lying in his bed. She looked down at their intertwined fingers. Even though he slept, his hand was wrapped around hers, their intertwined clasp lit with soft gold in the fresh morning light.
Every new hour, every new minute, Annabelle spent with Stefano over the past two days had increased the depths of her joy. She’d never known life could be so wonderful.
Her camera bag and expensive photography equipment had been left in her bedroom, gathering dust. Instead, she’d lived the warm, busy, physically demanding life of the ranch, caring for the horses, going on long rides through the fields, feeling the wind and sunshine on her face. She’d even pulled vegetables from the garden and felt the earth against her fingertips. She’d taken lots of pictures, but only using her smallest digital camera, the one she could easily tuck into the back pocket of her oversize jeans. Being Stefano’s mistress took precedence over everything else.
At midnight last night, long after the rest of the staff was asleep, she and Stefano had been suddenly starving after four solid hours of lovemaking. So they’d scampered down to the kitchen, where Stefano had insisted on showing her how to prepare his favorite Spanish rice dish of paella.
“Just in case you ever want to cook for me,” he said with a wicked grin, his hands stroking over hers as he helped her stir the pot.
“Cook for you? The very idea!” she’d teased, flashing him an indignant look. “I’m a busy woman. You should cook for me! ”
For answer, he’d grabbed the belt loops of the oversize jeans hanging low on her hips and turned her to face him. Her wooden spoon had clattered to the tile floor as he pulled her close to him in the kitchen.
“I’d love to cook for you,” he’d whispered. “Every time I look at you, I boil.”