Her mouth dropped open. A rush of heat went through her, a fire set by his raw words and the spark in his gleaming eyes.
She nodded and stared at her knees. “Okay. Thank you for telling me,” she said through a tight throat. “I’ll think about it. I’m pretty busy with my schedule this week. Are you going to be here this weekend? I have Sunday and Monday off.”
“I’m leaving on Monday for France,” he said, and her heart plummeted.
“Sunday afternoon then?” she pressed hopefully.
He lifted her chin until she met his eyes. “I’ve given you the code to enter the house. I’ll wait for you at the Breakers at around four o’clock on Sunday. And Emma?” he said more intently, his long forefinger brushing against her jaw.
“Yes?” she whispered.
“If you decide you don’t want to be with me, don’t come. It’ll be easier for both of us that way.”
Emma swallowed thickly and nodded.
Chapter Fourteen
She kept herself busy all week with work, but at night, she thought about Vanni and what she wanted . . .
. . . What she dared.
She made her decision when she realized that all the dark, erotic dreams she’d been having lately were her own secret wishes, her own desires rising to the surface. It wasn’t just about fulfilling Vanni’s sexual demands. It was about fulfilling her own hunger to be with him . . . even for a short period of time.
By Saturday night, she knew what she was going to do, and she had a plan for how to give herself some measure of protection.
Sunday dawned hot and humid. She did some grocery shopping with Amanda. They were getting along fairly well, although Emma insisted on keeping things light and superficial between them. She could tell that her distance pained Amanda—and it pained Emma, too—but her sister had stopped trying to force serious topics, knowing how Emma would respond.
After they shopped, they stopped at a local sandwich shop, and Amanda asked her if she was feeling all right.
“Your cheeks are flushed, and you seem kind of out of it. You’ve seemed spacey all day, in fact,” Amanda had said as they stood in line to order, which had necessitated some nonchalant, airy acting on Emma’s part.
At two thirty that afternoon, she showered and dressed carefully in a sundress and sandals, taking care with her makeup. Her hair reacted to the humidity by turning into a cap of loose, finger-combed curls and waves. She was glad Amanda was nowhere to be seen when Emma scurried through the kitchen and snuck out the back door.
It felt strange to be pulling up on the back drive of the Breakers, arriving there with such a different intent than she had before, with full knowledge of what she was doing. She was walking into Vanni’s home—Vanni’s world. If her eyes had been determinedly clamped shut before, they were wide-open now.
Her palms left damp spots on the wheel as she brought her car to a halt.
She thought the code Vanni had given her would work on any of the entrances to the house, but she took the one she was familiar with through the garage just in case. She knew there was an entrance to the Breakers at the back of the warehouselike underground structure, recalling how Vanni had come through it that night after he’d returned from France in order to meet her. Indeed, she found the door at the back of the garage, which was unlocked. A rush of cool, delightful air-conditioned air rushed over her heated skin as she shut the door behind her. She stood in a long, dim hallway.
The hallway she entered led past a large kitchen to the right, eventually ending on Cristina’s suite’s level through a door she swore she’d never seen while working there. She flew down the flight of stairs and peered around cautiously, listening. Everything was still and silent. There was no one in sight. Perhaps the day staff had Sundays off? She thought of how unpleasant it would be to run into Mrs. Shaw.
She hurried down the next two flights of stairs and saw the closed, carved wood door of his suite. Only then did she realize she’d dreamed of taking this path many times.
Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the handle.
She saw him immediately when she entered. He sat behind his desk, wearing a dark red, short-sleeved T-shirt. He stood slowly, dropping the pen he’d been holding. Their gaze held as she shut the door behind her. She found herself holding her breath as he sauntered toward her, looking very sexy and just a tad dangerous. In some distant part of her brain she noticed he was dressed casually in jeans, and there was a shadow of whiskers on his angular jaw.
“You came,” he said quietly, halting a few feet away.
“I came,” she whispered.
“Was it difficult to?” he asked, his gaze running over her face and lowering, pausing on the angel at her throat. She was sure the little charm was throbbing in rhythm with her racing heart.
“It would have been more difficult to stay away.”
His gaze darted to her face. She gave a little sigh of nervous relief when he stepped forward and took her into his arms, pulling her against him. With his scent tickling her nose, and the feeling of his long, hard body pressed against her, she knew the threshold had been crossed.
There was no going back.