Maybe it was the thrill of being up here, or perhaps because they’d reached some sort of understanding, but she knew what he meant about a sense of peace. She felt like she’d left her troubles down on the ground.
Ever since agreeing to Orsino’s demand that he stay with her, doubts had racked her about the wisdom of getting too close. About getting hurt again.
But here she felt exhilaration and pleasure. She understood why he loved this. Man against the elements. Adventure and, yes, peace.
She sipped her hot chocolate, feeling its warmth trace down her insides.
As it did an outrageous thought struck her. She almost choked on her drink.
Orsino wasn’t just taking her on a pleasant outing. He was sharing his private world. The world he’d barred her from all those years ago.
She swung round to find him braced against the other side of the basket, his gaze fixed on her. A frisson of excitement tiptoed over her nape and down her backbone.
Ballooning was part of his world of challenge and outdoor adventure. Yet here he was, not only sharing the experience but introducing her to one of his friends.
What had changed?
Poppy read the tension in his straight shoulders and wondered with a crazy skip of her pulse why he chose to share now. And why it mattered so much that he did.
An hour later, after smiling farewells to Thierry, the driver Orsino had organised delivered them to a small manoir, nestled in private parkland. It was the property of absent friends, Orsino explained.
Now he and Poppy enjoyed a champagne brunch in a sun-drenched conservatory. The friendly housekeeper who’d served had left them to their privacy.
Poppy found herself chuckling over another of Orsino’s unlikely stories, this one about Thierry, a disabled hot air balloon and an enormous python somewhere over the Amazon. Wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, she realised she hadn’t enjoyed herself so much in weeks.
No, she realised abruptly. Months.
Her smile faded. It couldn’t be years, could it?
That was impossible. She’d been happy pursuing her career goals. Hard work brought its rewards, like financial security—so important to her after her father’s profligacy had turned him sour and destroyed their family. Work gave her independence. Success meant she’d never have to rely on anyone, especially a man, the way her mother had.
But looking back on those years since Orsino, Poppy realised she’d been so busy building her career she’d done precious little else. At the back of her mind was always the fear that if she failed she’d lose that precious control over her life. She’d taken on job after demanding job, forever focused on the next career goal.
When was the last time she’d taken time out to laugh with a friend?
And since when did Orsino qualify as a friend?
She raised her crystal flute and swallowed vintage champagne, letting it trickle down her throat. It was a decadent delight in her life of perpetual diet consciousness.
‘Poppy? What is it?’
She looked up through veiling lashes, shocked at how the hint of concern in Orsino’s voice evoked feelings she should have buried ages ago. Tiny furrows pleated his tanned forehead. The scar above his eye was paler now, less confronting.
‘Nothing at all.’ She pinned a smile on her features.
Since that night when Orsino had put himself between her and danger, she’d been puzzling over the sense that he cared.
It would drive her mad trying to fathom what was going on between them.
Their short-term, no-holds-barred sexual relationship with no future had veered into something fragile and new. She refused to analyse it.
All she knew was that with Orsino she felt more alive, more authentically herself, than she had in ages.
And now, having him share these glimpses of his life with her …
‘You asked about my childhood before,’ she said impulsively. ‘How about you? What was your favourite thing as a child?’
‘Sports days,’ he said promptly. ‘I liked winning.’
Poppy grinned. Why didn’t that surprise her? The combination of athleticism and challenge would have suited Orsino to a T.
‘What about earlier? What do you remember when you were little?’ She couldn’t resist the opportunity to probe. Orsino was rarely so talkative.
He shrugged. ‘Hot drinks and adventure stories in bed. At boarding school they gave us younger ones cocoa before lights out.’
‘You must have been young.’ It didn’t sound like her school.
‘Lucca and I boarded from the age of seven.’
So young! Poppy had been a teenager when she’d boarded.
‘Don’t look so horrified.’ Orsino swallowed the last of his wine and put his glass down. ‘Boarding school was everything I needed back then.’