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Then he said throatily, ‘If, on the other hand, you’d prefer to stay in bed, I won’t object.’
Her body jumped with anticipation but she ignored it and scrambled off the bed, reaching for a robe. ‘I’m up.’ She rounded on him, saying grumpily, ‘And I can dress myself.’
Max made a considering noise. ‘Not a morning person? I’ll make a note to prepare myself for that in the future.’
‘It’d be more accurate to say not a middle of the night person,’ Darcy snapped.
Max was thankfully backing away, and he glanced at his watch, saying, ‘Downstairs in fifteen minutes. We’ve time for a quick breakfast.’
Darcy grumbled about arrogant bossy men as she washed and got dressed in jeans and a pretty silk long-sleeved top, shoving her feet into flat shoes.
She didn’t like to admit that her defences still felt a little battered after yesterday and their intimate supper last night. She’d had disturbing dreams of small boys clinging onto each other as unseen hands forced them apart, and of bright red blood on pristine snow.
When she went down she was surprised to see Julieta up and about, greeting her with a cheery hello. She showed her to a covered part of the terrace at the back of the villa, clearly in deference to the fact that only the faintest trails of dawn could be seen in the sky, like delicate pink ribbons.
Max was drinking coffee. He looked at her and stood to pull out a chair.
Darcy felt exposed, with her freshly scrubbed face and her hair tied back in a ponytail. She valiantly tried to ignore Max and picked at a croissant and some fruit, still feeling fuzzy from sleep.
‘You’re not going to tell me where we’re going, are you?’
Max shook his head cheerfully. ‘It’s a surprise.’
Darcy was already reacting to the prospect of another day in close proximity to Max... Her body was humming with energy.
She pushed her plate back, having no appetite this early, and said, ‘I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you I hate surprises?’
She did, too, having learnt long ago that they were usually of the very unwelcome variety—more often than not something promised by one or other of her parents to assuage their guilt or to compensate for their absence at some event or other.
Hence carving out a steady, dependable career for herself, where no surprises would jump out to get her.
Until she’d agreed to this ridiculous charade.
Max stood up and put down his napkin. ‘You’ll like it—I promise. Ready?’
Darcy looked up and sighed inwardly at the determination stamped on his face. ‘I don’t have much choice, do I?’
He shook his head. ‘Not unless you want me to put you over my shoulder and carry you out.’
Darcy had no doubt that Max wouldn’t hesitate to put her over his shoulder—after all, he’d picked her up as if she was a bag of flour yesterday.
She stood up with as much grace as she could muster and said witheringly, ‘You don’t have to demonstrate your he-man capabilities again. I can walk.’
* * *
They drove a relatively short distance to a big flat open field, with several low buildings inside the gates. Max parked the car alongside some other vehicles and got out.
When she met him in front of the car, thoroughly bemused, he handed her something. ‘Here, you’ll need this—it might be a bit chilly.’
She took the fleece and guessed it must belong to the lady of the villa, because it fitted her perfectly and she’d looked to be about as petite as Darcy—if not smaller. Darcy zipped it up, suddenly glad of the extra layer against Max’s far too intense perusal.
He’d put on a fleece too, and now took a basket from the boot of the car. Determined not to give Max the satisfaction of knowing how curious she was, Darcy just followed him around one of the low hangar-like buildings—and then stopped in her tracks and gasped out loud.
As she took in the significance of the scene in front of her she could feel the last of her defences crumble to dust. And, absurdly, tears pricked her eyes.
Max had stopped and was looking at her, the picture of innocence. Darcy curled her hands into fists at her sides and glared at him, willing the emotion to stay down.
In a husky voice she said, ‘Of all the low-down, dirty, manipulative things to do, Max Fonseca Roselli...this just proves how cold-hearted you are.’
