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She gripped the roses tightly. ‘Sometimes.’
The sun seemed to light up the bones beneath his skin, emphasising the finely etched features, the firm jaw and smooth, slightly angular cheeks. There was strength there, and a compelling authority, but also restraint—as though he were holding something back...some dark energy. Quickly, she looked away.
‘What are they saying now?’
His voice was so cool and clear that it made her feel thirsty. Somewhere inside her head a warning bell was ringing faintly in time to the beating of her heart. He was too close, and suddenly her breath caught in her throat, hot and panicky, as around her the birds broke into sweet, high song and a trembling breeze shook the leaves on the bushes.
He alone was silent, watching her with eyes so deep and blue she thought she might drown in them.
Trying to ignore her heart thumping against her ribs, she cleared her throat. ‘They’re saying, Why is this really annoying man trampling all over us?’
Their eyes met, and her skin twitched, and heat flared in her stomach as his lips curved into an irresistible smile.
‘Really? I thought they were saying, Why did this really annoying woman cut off our heads?’
‘So you think it’s my fault you trod on them? That somehow I’m responsible for your actions?’
He laughed softly. ‘Definitely. That’s what nymphs do, isn’t it?’
She felt her cheeks flood with colour. ‘I am not a nymph. And no, it is not what they do. They simply personify nature.’
‘That’s what all nymphs say. Right before they bewitch some helpless man with their beauty.’
He was teasing her, and those ridiculous eyelashes were flickering like sea anemones in a rock pool. Breathing in slowly, she tried to frown; tried her hardest not to respond to the dizzying pull of his smile but she couldn’t resist.
‘And that’s you, is it? You’re the helpless man?’ She lifted her chin. ‘Why didn’t you say that in the first place?’
Massimo felt lust gnawing at his body. He thought himself a man of the world—if not debauched then occasionally decadent—but he didn’t think he’d ever seen anything as erotic as Flora, wearing a loose T-shirt cinched at the waist with an old brown leather hunting belt, her bare feet pressing into the earth.
Her cheeks were flushed, and he studied her face, watching her dimples deepen. She was teasing him, testing him. And for a moment he forgot all about punishing her. He even forgot that he wanted her to move out. In fact, her leaving was the last thing on his mind. Like a child running to reach the sea, every inch of him was focused on one goal: getting her to surrender that delectable body to him.
Her eyes were exactly the colour of cinnamon, hinting at warmth and sweetness. And a whisper of fire. He felt his groin tighten. She would be like that in bed. Sweet and warm...that incredible lush pink mouth melting beneath his...those even white teeth nipping and biting in ecstasy—
‘I didn’t want you to take advantage of me.’
Flora swallowed. The garden was warm; the droning sound of insects soporific. But even though his eyes seemed drowsy, she knew he was watching her intently, and the heat on her back felt suddenly like a warning. A reminder that Massimo was not and never would be helpless and that it was he who was distracting and bewitching her.
Slowly, she turned to drop the dead roses in the bucket and then, trying to keep her voice steady, she said, ‘I’m pretty much finished here. I should probably go and clean up...’
Her heart gave a lurch, her words petering out as slowly he stepped towards her. ‘Wait!’
It was a command, not a request, and she wondered if he ever relinquished his power to anyone. His eyes were the same blue-black as the storm clouds gathering on the horizon and she stared at them as though mesmerised, a pulse fluttering in her throat. Being near him was so confusing. She felt surrounded—overwhelmed, almost and yet she wasn’t scared or suffocated by his power.
Like a bee seeking pollen, his gaze settled on her lips and suddenly the humming of her blood threatened to blot out the warning voices in her head.
‘We should go inside. It’s going to rain,’ she said hoarsely. ‘Can’t you feel it?’
He smiled—a dazzling smile that made her heart split—and she felt a quiver of panic. How could something be so irresistible and yet so dangerous?
‘Are you sure that’s what it is?’ he said softly.
Mutely, she stared at him, and then she felt heat flare up inside her as gently he reached out and stroked her hair. ‘Wh-what are you doing?’ she stammered.
‘I’m checking to see if you’re real.’
‘Why wouldn’t I be real?’
She felt his fingers move. ‘Because you’ve got petals in your hair,’ he murmured, holding out his hand to show her. ‘And you’re dressed like some woodland nymph.’
