and spending the night in a haze of sensual pleasure vanished as something that sounded as if it had more feet than a football team scrabbled across the room.
“Yeah. It’s a little more rustic than I was anticipating.” She scowled at the gloom. “I’m not well versed in the art of abandoned farmhouses. Now what?”
* * *
Bella bit her lip to staunch the flow of frustrated tears. Which didn’t exactly work.
This was all her fault. She’d envisioned a romantic rendezvous with a sexy, exciting man—one she’d looked forward to getting to know very well—and never once had it crossed her mind that “abandoned” didn’t mean that someone had picked up and left a fully functioning house, ready and waiting for her and James to borrow for a night or two. The most strenuous thing she’d expected to do before letting James seduce her was kill a spider in the shower.
Graying sheets covered in cobwebs and dust obscured what she assumed must be furnishings underneath. The farmhouse hadn’t been lived in for a long time. Decades maybe. The property may not even have running water. She shuddered. What had Isabella sent her into?
One tear shook loose and slid down her face.
Without speaking, James took her hand and drew her into his embrace, which immediately calmed her. How had he known that was what she needed? She slid her arms around his waist and laid her head on his strong chest.
Goodness. His athlete’s physique did it for her in so many ways. He was shockingly solid and muscular for someone so lean and her own body woke up in a hurry. Sensation flooded her and she ached for him to kiss her again, as he’d done on the terrace—hot, commanding and so very sexy.
But then he drew back and tipped her chin up, his gaze serious and a bit endearing. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll drive into the village and pick up a few things. I hate to leave you here, but we can’t be photographed together. While I’m gone, see if you can find a way to clean up at least one room.”
His smile warmed her and she returned it, encouraged by his optimism. “You do have a gift for uncomplicating things. I’m a little jealous,” she teased.
“It’ll be smashing. I promise.”
He left and she turned her attention to the great room of the farmhouse. Once she pulled the drapes aside, sunlight shafted into the room through the wide windows, catching on the dusty chandelier. So the house was wired for electricity. That was a plus. Maybe she could figure out how to get it activated—for next time, obviously, because there was a distinct possibility she and James might make long-term use out of this hideaway. Being a princess had to be worth something, didn’t it?
Holding her breath, she pulled the sheets from the furnishings, raising a tornado of dust that made her sneeze. Once all the sheets were in a pile in the corner, she dashed from the room to give all the flurries a chance to settle. Using her phone as a flashlight, she found a broom in one of the closets of the old-fashioned kitchen.
“Cinderella, at your service,” she muttered and carried the broom like a sword in front of her in case she ran into something crawly since her knight had left.
By the time he returned, the sun had started to set. She’d swept the majority of the dust from the room and whacked the cobwebs from the corners and chandelier. The throaty growl of the Lamborghini echoed through the great room as James came up the drive and parked. The car door slammed and James appeared in the open doorway, his arms weighted down with bags.
“Wow.” He whistled. “This place was something back in the day, huh?”
She glanced around at the rich furnishings, which were clearly high-end, even for antiques, and still quite functional if you didn’t mind the grime. “It’s a property owned by royalty. I guess they didn’t spare much expense, regardless of the location. I wonder why no one has been here for so long?”
And why all these lovely antiques were still here, like ghosts frozen in time until someone broke the spell.
“Tantaberra liked Del Sol.” James set his bags down carefully on the coffee table and began pulling out his bounty. “My guess is this was too far out of the limelight and too pedestrian for his taste.”
A variety of candles appeared from the depths of the first bag. James scouted around until he found an empty three-pronged candelabra, screwed tapers into it and then flicked a lighter with his other hand. He shut the front door, plunging the room into full darkness. The soft glow of the candles bathed his face in mellow light and she forgot all about the mystery of this farmhouse as he set the candelabra on the mantel behind the brocade couch.
“Nice. What else did you bring me?” Bella asked, intrigued at the sheer number of bags James had returned with. She’d expected dinner and that was about it.
“The most important thing.” He yanked a plaid blanket from the second bag and spread it out on the floor. “Can’t have you dining on these rough plank floors, now can we?”
She shook her head with a smile and knelt down on the soft blanket to watch him continue unpacking. It seemed as if he’d thought of everything, down to such necessary but unique details as a blanket and candles. It was a quality she would never have thought to admire or even notice. And in James, it was potently attractive.
“Second most important—wine.” He plunked the bottle next to her and pulled out two plastic cups. “Not the finest stemware. Sorry. It was the best I could do.”
His chagrin was heartbreakingly honest. Did he think she’d turn up her nose at his offering? Well, some women probably would, but not Bella.
“It’s perfect,” she said sincerely. “If you’ll give me the corkscrew, I’ll pour while you show me what else you found in town.”
He handed her a small black-cased device of some sort. It looked like a pocketknife and she eyed it curiously until he flicked out the corkscrew with a half laugh. “Never seen one of these before?”
“My wine is typically poured for me,” she informed him pertly with a mock haughty sneer, lady-of-the-manor style. “Cut me some slack.”
Instead of grinning back, he dropped to the blanket and took her hand. “This is a crappy first date. I wish I could have taken you to dinner in Del Sol, like I’d planned. You deserve to be waited on hand and foot and for me to make love to you on silk sheets. I’m sorry that things are so out of control for us right now. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
“Oh, James.” Stricken, she stared into his gorgeous aqua eyes flickering in the candlelight. “This is exactly what I’ve been envisioning since I got in the car back at the beach. I don’t need a three-hundred-euro dinner. I just want to be with you.”
“You’re a princess,” he insisted fiercely. “I want to treat you like the royalty you are.”
Good grief. Was all this because of the stupid joke she’d made about being high maintenance? Obviously he’d taken her at her word. Backpedaling time.
“You do that every time we’re together. Encouraging me to make my own choices about who I date. Bringing me to the farmhouse simply because I asked, without telling me it was crazy. Holding me when I cry. Being my hero by making this night romantic with ingenuity and flair, despite the less than stellar accommodations. How could I possibly find
