Page 17 of Awakened in Her Enemy's Palazzo

Grace’s anticipation of that second bite vanished and the honey slid onto the plate.

Standing there, his hands braced on his muscular thighs, it was a couple of moment before Theo straightened up and noticed her. He made a noise in his throat that might have indicated anything from revulsion to pleasure.

Grace deleted the latter possibility.

‘Good run?’ she asked brightly, trying and failing to ignore her physical reaction to him standing there in a vest, his skin steaming moistly.

In sharp tailoring it had been obvious he had an impressive body. Without it just how impressive became uncomfortably clear.

The muscle definition in his upper body was powerful, without being overly bulky. His legs were impossibly long, his hips narrow, his thighs powerful and dusted very lightly with dark hair that showed against the gleam of his skin.

Her stomach went into a series of painful and shaming somersaults and she let it, without feeling a shred of self-contempt. She was human and female. Even if he was a horrible man, with no redeeming features.

He stood there a moment, taking deep breaths that lifted his chest and sucked in the muscles of his flat belly, perfectly clear beneath the damp, clinging fabric. He might be horrible...but, God, he was hot and then some!

‘Coffee?’ she said casually, hitching one ankle over the other, hoping he’d say no because her knees were visibly shaking.

Grace was not thinking of anything above her knees—it would be too embarrassing to examine in detail what was happening there.

After slinging her a look that wasn’t friendly, but left her heart thudding, even though she didn’t know why—a lot of her reactions to this man remained inexplicable—she watched as he walked across to the walk-in fridge, from where he extracted a jug of water. He filled a glass, swallowing the contents as he moved across to the old-fashioned range where a percolator bubbled.

He turned to Grace. ‘Did you sleep well?’

‘No.’

He sketched something approximating a smile that left his heavily lashed eyes dark and dangerous.

‘Me neither.’

Reaching to the shelf above, he took a mug from the row and filled it.

She tried to avert her eyes from the taut, rippling movement of muscles in his shoulders and back. She was still staring when he turned around.

‘Good run?’ she asked.

‘You already asked me.’

‘I was being polite.’ She bit back the childish addition that good manners were something he clearly knew nothing about.

‘You sound nervous,’ he said, watching her form under the sweep of his crazily long lashes.

Rather than deny it, she met his eyes levelly.

‘Actually, I’m finding this situation quite...uncomfortable.’ She felt the need to take another deep breath before adding, ‘You own half the estate, and perhaps, technically,’ she conceded, ‘I should have consulted you before I made any decisions. Last night we left things unresolved, but to be honest—’

The sports watch he wore on his wrist caught the light, glinting metallically against his golden skin as he interrupted her with a sweeping gesture of one hand. ‘By all means, let us be honest.’

Her lips tightened. ‘You’ve not made any contact beyond trying to buy me out, and I didn’t think you’d be interested in the day-to-day running of the estate,’ she flung back.

‘I’m not.’

Annoyance flared in her blue eyes. ‘So you decided to be awkward just for the hell of it,’ she responded, averting her eyes abruptly.

The rippling motion of the muscles in his brown throat worked as he swallowed the black coffee and created some rippling of her own inside her. He was one of those people who could make the most mundane action fascinating...

‘So you want me to sign off on these projects?’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘That depends on the price of your co-operation.’

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