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“Not for me,” she said, lifting her chin.
“Especially for you. I admire your work a great deal, Annabelle. You have an eye like no other photographer today. So take my advice or leave it, as you choose.” He sat back in his chair casually, breaking the spell. “But you might consider taking pictures of the yearlings on the upper slope …”
As they discussed various aspects of the ranch, he gave her suggestions about people and animals and the best angles of his ranch’s rugged landscape. They finished their dinner, but just as Annabelle started to relax into a business discussion, he suddenly asked with gleaming eyes, “So have you decided about me yet?”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you decided if I am a brilliant huckster or a saint?”
She flushed, then met his gaze steadily. “I haven’t decided yet. Maybe neither. Maybe just a man.”
He leaned toward her.
“I want you to know me,” he said softly. “All of me.”
She felt hot beneath hi
s gaze, then he leaned back again in his chair. “I set the price of my horses high for a reason. No one buys them who is not prepared to treat them like gold.”
She snorted. “Because they are just as expensive, pound for pound.”
“You think I am greedy?”
“No. I think you are arrogant and proud.”
His lips curved as he said softly, “What else do you think you know about me?”
Annabelle swallowed. She already knew too much. She knew he was impossibly beautiful, like a dark angel, and every time she was around him her body felt tight with her heart in her throat. She knew he made her feel the warmth of sunlight and a soft sultry breeze of awareness every time he was near. “I think you’re a playboy who toys with women’s hearts.”
Frowning, he leaned forward.
“I do not toy with anyone’s heart,” he said sharply. “Women who come to my bed know it will be for a short time. I am always clear. If a woman deceives herself into believing our affair will last, she has only herself to blame.”
Annabelle sucked in her breath. “So you actually admit you’re a womanizer.”
Stefano’s gaze traced slowly over her in the candlelight. Prickles of heat spread across her skin beneath her linen suit. “Does it bother you?”
“Morally, you mean?” Setting her jaw, she shook her head. “No. Why would it?”
“It frightens you.”
“Frightens?” She forced out a laugh, and then told the biggest lie of all. “I’m not the least bit frightened of you.”
“But you are.” His dark eyes glimmered. “I can see that. What I don’t quite understand is why.”
“Don’t think you know me. We just met,” she bit out. “You don’t know anything about me!”
He swirled his goblet, making the red wine gleam like rubies in the candlelight. “I’ve already learned a great deal by watching you.” Tilting his head, he observed her. “I know, for instance, that you always behave rudely when someone’s getting too close.”
“Don’t be idiotic!”
Stefano’s black eyes burned through her.
“Exactly.”
Annabelle’s cheeks went hot.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she mumbled, looking away.
