hers.
She lifted her hips as he entered her, taking him deep. A shudder of profound relief rippled through her. Naldo cupped her head with one hand and kissed her greedily as he plunged deep inside her, driving her further and further into a paradise of sensation.
She writhed against him, moaning and murmuring his name as she climbed higher toward the peak of the most intense emotion she’d ever felt.
I love this man.
Again the thought stole into her mind and this time she didn’t shove it away.
Powerful, passionate, fiercely loyal to his proud family and the estate he loved, Naldo was a man like no other.
He dove into her one last time and her climax took her. Like a roller coaster plunging from the highest point, she sped down, screaming, into an abyss of shocking pleasure. Naldo held her tight, his groans echoing in her ears, as she crashed back to earth on the petal-strewn sand.
It was some time-she had no idea how long-before she managed to open her eyes. She met Naldo’s black gaze.
I love you.
She crushed the thought back into her brain. No sense making a fool of herself. At least not more than she already had.
She became uncomfortably aware of the gritty ground under her hot, sweaty skin.
Um, what just happened?
Naldo’s dimple appeared. “You have a strange effect on me.”
“Yeah.” She frowned. “I’ve noticed that.”
“And apparently the feeling is mutual.” His wide, sensual mouth tilted into a half smile.
“I wouldn’t say that…” She feigned a serious expression until Naldo tickled her belly and she broke into a giggle.
“Did I scream?” The thought of the workers one grove over made her clap a hand over her mouth.
“Yes. Most definitely.” Humor twinkled in his eyes.
“What if someone heard?” Her eyes widened.
“The trees provide excellent sound insulation. Do you hear anyone rushing to your aid?” He raised a brow.
“No.”
“So, as you can see, you’re at my mercy.” His smile broadened.
“Even if they could hear, I bet your faithful employees would just whistle and pretend they heard nothing.” She narrowed her eyes. Her mouth fought a grin.
“It’s nice being the boss.” He winked. “But then you’d know that.”
Anna swallowed. He still had no idea she was penniless, bankrupt…a failure.
“Though I don’t know how you run a business if you don’t like money.”
“I like money just fine.”
“You could have fooled me.” He tilted his head, smiling at her. “I keep trying to give you some, but I can’t get you to take it. I guess you have too much already.”
If only.
“It’s not that I don’t want the money…” Her voice trailed off.
“But you’re too proud to take it?”
She hesitated. Was it pride? Maybe a little. But it was something else, too. Mushy sentimentality for a place she’d once called home.
An indulgence she couldn’t afford.
“I just need to be sure I’m being fairly compensated.” She grasped at the first straw that came to mind. “I’m a businesswoman, as you said.”
“If you run your business anything like the way you…” he regarded her steadily with those penetrating black eyes “…play tennis, I’m in a very dangerous position on the other side of a bargaining table from you.”
Her nipples tingled at the suggestion in his voice and she stretched, trying to look casual. “I only want what’s fair.”
“I suppose there is the matter of the cookbook.” He stared at the ground for a moment, then met her gaze again.
“Is that the red leather book I found in Mom’s kitchen?” She thought of those carefully written creamy pages with their lovely drawings.
A line appeared between Naldo’s brows. “Yes. That’s the one. My father illustrated it.” He looked up, gazing into the trees behind her. “He always liked to draw.”
Oh. So that’s why she didn’t remember her mom being artistic. The book was a joint effort. A labor of love. The image of them working on it together made her bite her lip to stem a surge of emotion.
“I can’t picture your father drawing. I always saw him in action, striding about the place.” It was hard to imagine the dynamic Robert De Leon taking the time and care to make those intricate and carefully observed illustrations.
“Oh, yeah. He painted, too. Usually early in the morning, before the day got rolling. He loved to go out to the orchards with an easel and capture the trees in bloom.”
An orange blossom petal drifted down from the tree above them and landed on Anna’s belly. “I don’t think there’s a more beautiful sight on earth,” she murmured, looking up at the white clustered branches.
“There isn’t.” Naldo looked at her. “I’ve traveled enough to know that. This is heaven, right here. My dad knew he lived in paradise and he lived every minute of it to the fullest.”
Anna chewed her lip. She’d once been so keen to get away, to get on with building a “real life.” Real life had turned out to be a crushing disappointment compared to life here in Paradiso.
“What’s the matter?” Naldo brushed a strand of hair off her face.
“I didn’t realize how much I’d missed this place.”
“It seeps into your blood, doesn’t it?” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Wraps itself around you, and doesn’t want to let you go. I guess that’s why the De Leons have been here so damn long.”
And why I don’t want to leave again.
Overcome by a wave of panic, Anna shook her head, tossing her hair. Naldo pulled his hand back.
You have to leave. You have no choice. This isn’t your home anymore.
“I guess that’s why I can’t stomach the idea of parting with even one acre.” Naldo’s dimple appeared. His words, spoken so casually, made her gut twist with anguish. A simple reminder that he wanted her to take the money and give his land back.
She sat up and reached for her dress, trying to maintain a veneer of calm. Think business. “I still don’t understand why the cookbook was mentioned in the will. Because they did it together?”
“It’s not the book that’s important, so much as the recipes. I guess he wanted to acknowledge that they were your mom’s.” Naldo shifted onto his elbow, frowning at the dress in her hand. “They’re the foundation of the retail business.”
She froze. “The marinades and dressings that you sell in supermarkets?”
“Yes.”
“The products that netted three million dollars in profits in their first year of production?” Her thoughts, spoken aloud, made that now familiar furrow reappear between Naldo’s brows.
“Your mother developed the recipes as an employee of the estate.” His tone had turned professional. Cold.
“Of course.” A surge of fresh hurt mingled with fury and stung her. “She came up with ideas that generate millions in cash for the estate, while earning a cook’s salary.”
“She was compensated in other ways.”
“The jewels.” Anna’s blood chilled. “Your father bought her off. Kept her quiet.”
Naldo blew out an exasperated burst of air and sat up. “What happened to you, Anna? What made you so bitter and untrusting? My father loved your mother. They were a team-much as it pains me to say it-and they did almost everything together. He gave her an acre of the estate, for crying out loud. Do you have any idea how extraordinary that is? It’s never happened before in the history of the De Leon family.”
