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Horse piss mixed with putrid fish entrails.
Such a rude person. Wait. No. He’s an honest man. Which explains why I’m suddenly finding him so attractive. I despise lying men. Learned that the hard way. And I haven’t met any guys who appealed in a long while, and here’s this gorgeous muscled manly perfection right here in my living room, who lives across the street.
His eye catches mine, his lips twitching, and I turn away, blushing. That’s the second time he caught me ogling him. I need to get a hold of myself. It’s just that his new haircut really brings out his unusual eyes and the strong lines of his jaw and sensual mouth. And his formfitting clothes—
“Stella, honey.”
I blink, glancing up in surprise at my mom, who’s standing next to me. “Huh?”
“We’re going outside to the storeroom now. Do you want to lie down? You don’t look so good.” She puts the back of her hand on my forehead. “And you feel a little warm.”
I hear the faintest growl, and my head whips toward Mr. Bozhidar instinctively. His eyes gleam, the silver in them seeming to glow. I can barely breathe as I rise from the sofa, lost in those eyes. What is happening?
“I-I’m fine. Let’s do the tour,” I say, trying to shake it off.
My sisters stay behind, whispering to each other, uninterested in the business part of the evening.
Neli hooks her arm through mine and ushers me quickly from the room. “Can’t wait to see how you’re set up over here. Your mom had this great idea about you guys hosting private tasting parties on your patio using our wine. We never host. Way too busy. You can take a percent of the profits for the hassle, and we’ll probably sell more wine. Already I feel good about this collaboration.”
I snap out of it and focus fully on Neli. Somehow I missed the entire conversation. “I love that idea. You saw our patio the last time you were here. It’s a nice covered space with a view of the vineyards and your castle too. If you’re happy with the arrangement down the line, I could host special events in your barrel room, as well. I think a masquerade would be perfect for the ancient-looking space.”
“You’re full of great ideas,” she says, pulling me along even faster.
The front door opens ahead of us. Mr. Bozhidar moved so quickly I didn’t even hear him approach from behind.
I smile up at him as I pass, and he leans toward me, breathing deep.
Did he just smell me? I shiver as I step out into the warm night air. Neli appears by my side, chattering away, but this time I’m fully conscious of Mr. Bozhidar’s powerful presence behind me. Where are my parents?
I glance over my shoulder. They’re trailing behind, talking quietly to each other. Guess I’ll have to be the one to show off Stellariva.
After a brief tour of our manufacturing facility on the east side of the property, which thankfully my dad took the time to explain, my mom offers our guests tastes of different wines to help narrow down the best option for mixing with theirs.
I watch Mr. Bozhidar closely for telltale signs of disgust, but there aren’t any. I’m not sure he’s even sipping the wine. He draws it to his mouth, tips the glass, and then licks his lips, his glowing black eyes smoldering into mine. I want to know what he thinks of it, if he’s even tasting it, but at the same time all I want is to feel those lips tasting me.
This is crazy. I lift my hair off the back of my neck, suddenly fever hot. I can only pray I’m coming down with something. I can’t even consider getting involved with the man who’s the key to keeping our business afloat. What if things went bad between us? That would really be the end of Stellariva.
The rest of the evening passes by in a strange fog until he says his goodbye to my parents and then takes my hand, murmuring in a deep hypnotic voice, “Until we meet again.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses it, and then he turns my hand, palm up, and places something cool and heavy there, gently closing my fingers around it. “A gift for you.”
My breath comes faster, my cheeks flushing. I open my palm to find a darling gold charm bracelet with several tiny charms. I’m floored by the sweet gesture. “Thank you, Mr. Bozhidar,” I whisper.
His voice is silky. “Please, call me Boz.”
He leaves, and I’m suddenly deflated, as if he took all the energy out of the room with him. Still, there’s a lingering tingle in my stomach, like some strange afterglow. Whatever happened tonight, I can honestly say that I’ve never experienced anything like it. Don’t be silly, I tell myself. You can’t risk getting involved with this guy.
