Million Dollar Christmas Proposal

He led her along the meandering path to a wild garden of hibiscus, orchids and lilies in vibrant colors. A dining set that complemented the loungers by the pool sat in the center.

Audrey could imagine both very romantic and relaxed family meals shared here. “It’s idyllic.”

“Sì.”

“Would it be possible to have lunch down here tomorrow with the children? I think they would enjoy it.” The baby’s highchair could easily be brought down.

“That is an excellent idea, biddùzza. Speak to Devon and he will see to it.” Vincenzo tugged on Audrey’s hand. “Come. We are not finished with our tour.”

What more could there be?

The more turned out to be a grotto, its manmade cave walls covered in moss, the ground around the small bubbling pool spongy with it as well. More flowers and abundant foliage grew to either side of the cave opening.

“It’s a hot tub?” she asked, tempted to skip the swimming altogether when she saw it.

“Yes, but we keep the temperature at ninety-eight degrees now that the children make use of the pool room.”

“Pool paradise, more like.”

“Even workaholics have to have their indulgences.”

She grinned, looking around at the amazing underground jungle. “This is some indulgence.”

“Are you ready for our swim?” Vincenzo asked.

After a last longing look at the hot tub grotto, Audrey nodded. “You bet.”

The path looped around to come out on the other side of the pool from where they’d begun.

Vincenzo pressed something on the bark of a tree trunk and a small panel popped open. One of the not natural plant life, then. A moment later the bright daylight turned to the gentle orange glow of sunset. The bird sounds grew quieter and were joined by soothing music.

He hung his robe on a hook she hadn’t noticed. The sight of the billionaire in European swim trunks was not for the faint of heart. The snug, dark fabric accented his incredible body and did nothing to hide an enviable endowment.

Audrey could not look away. “You’re beautiful,” she blurted out and wasn’t even embarrassed by the proclamation.

There was no shame in such an inescapable truth.

He laughed, the sound strained, his eyes darkened with desire. “Men are not beautiful, amore.”

“A masterpiece is beautiful, whatever the art form.”

“You would compare me to a work of art?”

“What else?”

“A flesh-and-blood man who will not make it to the pool if you do not stop looking at me like that.”

“We’re going swimming.” That was the plan, right?

“Sì.” He put his hand out. “Now, come here, biddùzza. You can hang your robe with mine.”

She walked toward him, not conscious of telling her legs to move, and stopped a foot away, but made no effort to remove the robe.

His hands dropped to the tied sash, olive skin dark against the white, even in the softened light. “May I?”

“Yes.” It came out a mere whisper, but he heard.

“You have nothing to fear, Audrey. It is just a swim.”

“Is it?” she wondered, not really asking him.

He tugged the belt loose so the robe parted to reveal her T-shirt and swimsuit-clad body. Delighted masculine laughter made her smile.

He pushed the robe off her shoulders. “You decided to wear it?”

“My T-shirt?”

“Sì, your cotton armor.”

She shrugged. “I don’t wear bikinis. I never did. Not even when I was a teenager.”

Humor continued to glow in his gaze, like he had a joke he wasn’t sharing, but he didn’t say anything more as he dealt with the robe. Her gaze skimmed his body—she could not help it—and snagged on the growing bulge in Vincenzo’s trunks.

Whatever amused him was also turning him on.

In an unexpected explosion of movement Vincenzo ran and dove into the pool, barely making a splash on entry.

His head broke the surface, dark hair slicked to his skull with water, rivulets of it running down his face, neck and broad shoulders. He grinned at her, his expression less guarded than she’d ever seen it. “Are you coming in, Audrey?”

“Not biddùzza?” she teased, moving closer to the side of the pool, one small step at a time.

“Always you are beautiful. No more so than you will be in the pool in your T-shirt, I think.”

She did not know what he found so eternally funny about her top. “Is it warm enough?”

“It is a very comfortable ninety-two degrees.”

Warm enough for the children to swim comfortably. “Too warm for laps?”

“The heating system is on a schedule. The temperature begins dropping at midnight and is cool enough for exercise at five-thirty in the morning. The heater goes to a higher temperature at eight and it’s comfortable enough for play by lunchtime.”

“That’s nice.”

His mouth curved in a knowing smile. “Sì, but it will be even nicer when you are in the water.”

She nodded, but made no move to slide out of her spa shoes and join him.

“Audrey?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Are you coming in?”

“I want to.”

“So…?”

“What am I doing here?” she asked him.

“Swimming?”

“I mean, why me…not one of the other candidates?”

“No more meaningful discussions, amore, not right now. We are going to play.”

She sighed. “Why do I think you don’t mean Marco Polo?”

“We could play that if you like,” he said, dark promise in his voice.

The image of Vincenzo reaching out to find Audrey after she called Polo burned into her brain. “Uh…maybe not.”

“As you wish.” But there was laughter lacing his tone.

And she liked that. Too much.

“Are there steps?” She looked around the pool and spied a handrail on the far side, near the waterfall, the top obscured by drooping vegetation.

Vincenzo moved toward the side where she stood and put his arms out in unmistakable invitation. “Jump, amore, I will catch you.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” But she was slipping out of her shoes, wasn’t she?

“You know you want to. You are not the cautious one.”

No, she really wasn’t. No matter how hard she tried to be “the responsible parent” for Toby’s sake.

She jumped.

Vincenzo caught her with a carefree laugh that lodge

d in her heart, bringing their bodies together in the water.

She laid her hands on his wet shoulders, reveling in the feeling of powerful muscle beneath her fingers. “It is warm.”

“I told you.”

“You did.”

“I will not lie to you, Audrey.” His expression and tone said this wasn’t part of the lighthearted play.

Or maybe it had not been play all along. Leaping into his arms had taken trust. Something Audrey did not easily extend to others. Not after her parents and Thad’s betrayals.

“I know, Enzu.”

“You trust too easily.”

She laughed. “That just proves you can’t read my mind. Believe me, I don’t.”

“Then I am honored.”

“And I am wet.”

“Sì.” He looked down her body, the air around them suddenly, inexplicably crackling with sensual electricity. “Very much so. You are extremely tempting, biddùzza.”

“No more tempting than you.” She didn’t have to be experienced to know she wanted to do things with this man that did not include paddling through the water.

“I am very glad to hear you say so.”

“Are you?”

“Sì. While my ardor is unmistakable and easy to see, I cannot be certain the tempting peaks of your nipples have drawn into tight buds from desire or the water.”

“My…?” She glanced down between them and realized suddenly why he found her wearing the white T-shirt so amusing.

Neither it nor the bikini top hid her tingling nipples, but the T-shirt itself didn’t hide anything else, either.

“White fabric goes transparent in the water,” he pointed out unnecessarily.

“I knew that.”

“But you forgot?”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“I take it you never entered a wet T-shirt contest at university?”

“No! Barnard wasn’t co-ed.” And she never would have entered such a thing with her no more than average curves anyway.

“There is no competition now, just a very alluring woman in an extremely provocative swimming costume.”

“I didn’t mean to make it provocative.”

“I think that might be what makes it even more so. Your innocence, the hidden body no longer hidden, wet fabric that keeps me from feeling silken skin.” His words were a husky whisper against her ear and ended with his tongue flicking out to tease her.