Sleep with her and destroy that last subliminal craving. His smile returned. It had the advantage of being exactly what he wanted to do.
A few weeks holed up at this chateau where she was working. Plenty of time to seduce her and free himself before he walked away for good.
How could he resist?
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS CRISP early morning as the limousine slowed to enter the quaint French town. Beside her, Orsino stirred at last, stretching his long legs.
He looked fresher than she felt. Clearly he’d slept on the flight far better than she with her restless dreams. He’d emerged from the plane’s bedroom freshly shaven and in a crisp new shirt, thanks to the steward.
Orsino looked casually sexy but with that dangerous edge advertisers the world over paid a fortune for. He would have made a brilliant model with his handsome features and raw masculinity. Only the tight grooves beside his mouth hinted at discomfort.
It wasn’t fair. Even bandaged he looked terrific while she felt rumpled and untidy.
Poppy straightened, pinning back the strands of hair that always managed to escape.
‘Who organised all this?’ Her gesture took in the car and driver. ‘I’d planned to hire a car from the airport.’ She thought guiltily of her relief when she’d discovered the car waiting for them. At the time she’d accepted it with weary relief, but on the drive she’d had time to ponder. She couldn’t imagine Orsino making the necessary calls from his hospital bed.
‘My secretary.’
‘You have a secretary?’ She didn’t hide her surprise. ‘You used to manage your social calendar without help. Surely it’s not that demanding.’
He turned to survey her and Poppy wished he’d ditch the glasses. Shocking as it had been to meet the blaze of his knowing eyes, it had been better than wondering what was hidden behind the dark shades.
‘She does more than organise my social calendar.’ His tone was smooth and almost expressionless. Almost.
‘Oh, yes? What else?’
He’d jealously guarded his expeditions, even the planning of them, from her. She’d felt excluded—more evidence that whatever his reasons for marrying her, it wasn’t to share his life.
Could it be he’d finally let someone into that part of his world? The notion jabbed pain between her ribs and she stiffened.
Poppy blinked and tore her gaze away. She couldn’t be jealous of his secretary! Yet she couldn’t suppress her curiosity. What did this secretary look like?
‘I suppose those expeditions of yours take some organising now.’ They’d grown more dangerous and more public, but she didn’t mention that. She didn’t want him to think she’d been following him in the media. ‘Does she work part-time?’
‘Full-time, though she tells me she’s long overdue for a vacation.’
‘Really?’ Poppy frowned. Surely even setting up arrangements for Orsino’s high-profile expeditions wasn’t a full-time job twelve months a year. She turned back to him, the set of his mouth hinting there was something else he hadn’t said. ‘But surely—’
‘I take it this is our destination?’ Orsino nodded towards the window and Poppy recognised the tall gates barring the chateau from the public.
A guard stepped forward and she wound down her window to greet him. Instantly he grinned, welcoming her effusively. Moments later the gates slid silently open.
‘Another of your many admirers?’ Orsino’s dark voice held a steely edge.
Poppy gritted her teeth and reminded herself there was no point rising to the bait.
‘I have to work today.’ She’d already checked her messages and knew she had a full schedule. ‘But I’ll get you settled first.’
‘Sounds good. I’m looking forward to having you put me to bed and tuck me in.’
She turned from the avenue of arching plane trees to stare at Orsino. His tone implied something far too intimate. The way he sprawled in his corner of the seat, a complacent smile hovering at the corner of his mouth, made her stiffen. She opened her mouth then snapped it shut.
Deliberately she looked away.
The car crunched up the long driveway, out into the open between lawns, passing the converted stables and farm buildings on the right, heading straight for the chateau. It rose out of the river mist like something from a fairytale. Pale stone, round towers and surprisingly large windows. More palace than fortress.
It stood framed by the deep russet of the late-autumn forest on the far bank, like a pearl against crimson velvet. From here you couldn’t see the length of the building, stretching back over the river on a series of arched supports.
Poppy couldn’t prevent a smile. She loved this place, its romance, the delicacy and beauty of it. Its tranquillity was a balm after her hectic schedule.