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As he’d wandered off to the east of the house, his footsteps heavy in the sandy shore, she’d watched him. She wondered where he stayed, and had studied his long-legged form as he headed down the beach to only God knew where.
The man was fine.
With a capital F.
And she lived in LA, so she knew what the word meant.
Gorgeous men were everywhere. In fact, sometimes, there were so many, it was overwhelming.
She even worked for some of the hottest of the hot, but none of them, not even the A-Listers or the supermodels held a candle to Luca.
He was…
Breathtaking.
Black hair that curled around his ears and touched the back of his neck with its thick locks. He had the best bedhead ever conceived. It made April think of running her fingers through the tight waves, of holding him to her by clinging to him that way.
It was a hairstyle that invited sex.
Yes, a hairstyle.
And the rest of him? Well, that made her think of all night orgies.
His skin was bronzed, but it was dappled by strong muscles. He’d worn a faded white shirt that was soft with age. It was comfortable not smart, but she’d seen the play of muscles in his arms as he’d carried her case. In the bright light of day, she’d even seen the shadow of his six pack underneath the light cotton.
His feet weren’t gross like most men’s feet. They were strong, clean. The nails neatly tended to and his toes straight.
Even his toes were gorgeous, she thought ruefully as she unpacked her stuff into the wide armoire in the bedroom where she was going to sleep. A bedroom that had patio doors that opened up onto a Juliette balcony, which overlooked the freaking sea!
The man had the best taste ever.
From what he’d said as he guided her around the place, she realized this project was a personal one.
He’d renovated the old farmhouse himself. No one else had helped him. Well, save for the movers who’d helped transport the furniture over to fit the house.
All of it was him. Every inch of him was imbued into this magical place.
And magical was an understatement.
Her bedroom was like something from a Disney castle. A huge bed with billowing linen curtains wafted out in the sea breeze once she opened the doors that led onto the Juliette balcony.
Either side of the bed there were driftwood tables and some small egg-shaped bedside lamps. Thick jute rugs lined the floor either side, and there was an antique armoire, a huge walnut thing that gleamed in the sunlight.
Though there was air condi
tioning, a wooden fan circled lazily overhead.
She headed to the balcony and stared out at the magnificence of the ocean before her.
The notion that she’d be here for the next ten days was so astonishing, she wasn’t certain she could even think about leaving this place at the end of her stay.
That was how magnetic it was.
The ocean was there. A big navy blob in front of her that merged into turquoise, light green, and baby blue. A rainbow of blues and greens that had her eyes watering with its beauty. She was from California. She knew what a gorgeous beach looked like, but this? It was just incredible.
Mindblowing in its awesomeness.
The sand gleamed gold and white in the bright midday sun, and the stone path that led to the house was just as white—blinding.
