“It’ll probably be back on by morning. I’ll call the electric company when I get back to the house.”
“How come the power was on at the house?”
“Backup generator. It rolls over right away; you don’t even know it’s gone out.” He ran his tongue over the back of his teeth. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
“It’s all right for some. I guess the poor peasants who work for you just have to stumble around in the dark.”
“Yeah.” He grinned in the darkness. Her attitude tickled him.
“I wonder if Mom still keeps the candles in the…Yup! Here they are. And the matches are still right here next to this ‘antique’ gas stove your high and mightiness never saw fit to replace.” The flare of a match lit up her features, one eyebrow raised in a challenge.
“You look lovely by candlelight.”
“You, too.” She flashed a fake smile. “Well, I’d love to entertain you, but I guess the twelve-course meal I was planning will have to wait. You can start walking.”
He could think of plenty of things he’d rather be doing. Like, say, feeling his way to the tiny, hot bedroom in the dark and working up a musky sweat between the sheets with this delicious new Anna and her snippy, fiery attitude. If it wasn’t for his duty to the family and the estate, he’d be tempted to strike a match in the fire simmering below her pretty surface.
But unfortunately, in the choice between pleasure and duty, duty would have to win out.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay? Need a hand changing the sheets?”
She cocked her head, put her hands on her slim hips and stuck her chest out. Damn, little Anna had a chest. And a high, full, perky one, too.
Duty could always wait until tomorrow. He licked his lips.
She narrowed her eyes. “Why do I feel like I’m all alone in grandma’s cottage with the big, bad wolf?”
He resisted the urge to growl. “Seriously, I could stay overnight if you don’t want to be alone here in the dark.” He fought a wicked smile.
She chuckled. “No thanks! I know my way around. I used to live here, remember? I’ll just go to bed and start cleaning up in the morning when it gets light.”
“Okay.” Relief crept through his veins. Of course it didn’t do much to dim the desire also creeping through them, but that was nothing a workout in the gym and a cool bath couldn’t fix. “See you in the morning.”
Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars and she hadn’t snatched it up? Morning sunlight blasting through the uncurtained bedroom window of the cottage made Anna squint. Had she completely lost her mind?
It was that infuriating Naldo’s fault. Something about his cocky arrogance just lit a stick of dynamite under her stubborn streak. Ugh! Why had she let him get to her? She was in serious danger of cutting off her nose to spite her face.
She hadn’t tried to change the sheets in the dark, so they were the same ones her mom must have slept in for the last time just a few horribly long days ago. They still smelled like violets and love-and home.
She rested her head on the soft pillow, wishing she could hug her mom the way she could wrap her arms around the soft cotton of the faded floral pillowcase.
Why did you have to die before we got a chance to really reconnect as adults? A sick feeling of regret sneaked through her. On one hand she was glad her mom had died thinking her successful, but on the other she wished she’d just been honest.
She bit back imminent tears and sat up. Took a deep breath. She didn’t deserve the luxury of feeling sorry for herself. The A/C hadn’t come back on so the power must still be out and she’d better get that seen to so she could pack up and get out of here before Naldo changed his mind about the money.
She stumbled out of bed and eased up the window without the A/C unit blocking it.
The scent of oranges filled her senses as she leaned out into the rich, dewy morning.
Wow.
How had she forgotten that feeling? Like the whole world was ripe with expectation. With the promise of wonderful things just about to happen.
The new grove of trees Robert De Leon had planted near the cottage ten years earlier had grown from shrubby seedlings into majestic full-grown trees. Their arching branches hung with heavy fruit-a rare heirloom orange from Italy called Summer’s Shadow.
He’d planted them because her mother loved orange trees and said she’d like to live right in the middle of a grove if she could. The gruff but charming orange magnate had loved that. They’d picked the variety together, right at this time of year-spring-when the shadow of the past year’s summer hung in the sun-ripened fruit almost ready for picking.
And now they were both gone.
She sucked in a breath, determined not to let grief overwhelm her again. She went down the stairs, instinctively ducking her head to avoid the low ceiling beam, and headed straight for the circuit breaker.
Yup, it was tripped. Why on earth hadn’t she thought of that last night? It wouldn’t occur to Naldo to check the breaker because he had hot and cold running servants to do that kind of thing for him, but she should have known better.
She flipped the black switch and the air-conditioning units whirred to life. Phew. The coffeemaker would work, too, and right now she needed coffee like a vampire needed fresh blood.
As the last drips of Colombian Gold splashed down into the pot, she snatched it up and poured herself a steaming mug.
Ahh. With the first sip she could feel her synapses begin to fire. She was just about to drink another life-giving draught, when loud banging on the door made her jump.
“What? Who is it?” she spluttered, still half-awake. She really didn’t want to open the door in her pink pajama shorts and cami, but another series of pounding knocks drew her out of her chair.
“Hey, Anna.” A deep voice penetrated the wood door.
Naldo. What did he want now?
Should she open the door in her PJs? She ran her fingers through her uncombed hair. Maybe if she just kept quiet he’d think she was out?
But the van was parked right outside.
Gritting her teeth she got up and unlatched the door.
Six foot whatever of Naldo filled the doorframe, blocking out the light. He wore the distinctive uniform of his polo team, a black-and-white shirt and white jodhpurs that skimmed his long, powerful legs before diving into tall black leather boots. “Your van is blocking the road.” Impatience burned in his eyes. “You must move it immediately.”
Was “please” not in this man’s vocabulary?
She headed for the kitchen to retrieve the keys, uncomfortably aware of her flimsy pink sleepwear.
“You should park in the carport.” He followed her into the kitchen, an act of intrusion that made her hair stand on end.
“The van won’t fit. That carport is sized for a Model-T.”
“Then park on the lawn.”
“Why don’t you just drive on the lawn and go around the van, then?” She turned to him, indignation sparking her temper.
His black brows lowered over flashing dark eyes. “The horse trailers require a level surface. This is the only access road to the polo field and the entire team is waiting. Spectators will be arriving any moment.” His voice deepened to a growl.
“At this time of the morning? What is it, eight?”
“Of course. Before it gets hot. Hurry!”
Did he just issue an order? Her blood heated several degrees. His arrogance was unbelievable!
On perverse instinct she reached for her coffee cup, lifted it to her lips and took an invigorating sip.
“What are you waiting for?” He looked at her in disbelief, no doubt appalled that she hadn’t leapt into action to do his bidding.
“I’m in the middle of my morning coffee. I don’t work for you, in case you’d forgotten.” Irritation shimmered in her voice. Let him wait for a change.
