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“You should have thought of that before.”

“You can’t drive to London,” Stefano said roughly. “You heard what the doctor said.

You need to stay off your feet.”

“I’ll take a taxi to the airport and send for my truck later.”

“I won’t let you go.”

Folding her arms to hide the tremble of her hands, Annabelle glared at him. “You can’t keep me here against my will.”

In the gray shadows of the shuttered bedroom, Annabelle felt warm air blow against her skin from the ceiling fan. She felt the dark power of Stefano’s gaze and shivered. Maybe she was wrong. Santo Castillo was his own private estate, the empire he ruled, with a staff loyal to him alone. For all she knew, Stefano could keep her here against her will.

The air between them hummed with electricity as he started to move toward her.

Swiftly, Annabelle swerved her feet around the side of the bed, starting to rise to her feet. Stefano stopped her with a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t go,” he said quietly. “Rest. We’ll talk later.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Let me go.” He exhaled. “Please.”

That single humble word stopped her as nothing else could. His dark eyes gazed at her with passion, yearning.

He looked at Annabelle as she’d dreamed her whole life of a man looking at her.

“You’ve had a difficult time,” he said in a low voice. “Traveling from Portugal. Your bad dream last night. You’re exhausted. Please. Stay. Rest. Then we’ll talk.”

Annabelle looked at the hard lines of his body. She thought of fighting past him to call a taxi, or physically trying to hop her way on one foot downstairs to her truck in the garage.

Not appealing. Nor was it a happy thought to imagine dropping out of her assignment at the eleventh hour. Aside from what it would do to her professional reputation, she would personally know she’d fled here like a coward.

She could just imagine the juicy gossip that would be whispered behind her back. The stud of Santo Castillo, people would nod knowingly, has claimed even the ice queen as his victim.

Annabelle hissed through her teeth at the thought—of having the whole world think Stefano had seduced her.

He stared down at her. “Please, querida.”

Crossing her arms, Annabelle glared at him.

“Fine. I’ll stay. For a while.” He gave a single nod. “Did you have breakfast?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll bring you a tray.” Rising to his feet, he pointed toward a button beside the bed.

“Ring if you need anything.” He paused. “You promise you won’t try to leave?”

“I won’t try to hop down the stairs on one foot or fling myself out the window, if that’s what you mean.”

“Bien,” he said. “As long as I have your word.” Taking her hand, he started to lift it to his lips. A deep tremble went through her, but he stopped before his lips touched her skin.

“Ah,” he said. “I almost forgot. You do not wish me to kiss any part of you.” Looking down at her with his inscrutable dark eyes, he straightened with a mischievous grin. “Rest now.”

Rest? She fidgeted. “What am I supposed to do in bed all day?”

His lips curved. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to keep busy.” He brought her laptop and printer from the desk over to her side table. “Here. Now you can work. Although—” he tilted his head, his dark eyes bright “—if you ask me, there are far more interesting ways you could spend a day in bed….”

She scowled. “I’m not interested in hearing what you like to do in bed!”

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