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‘Just black.’
His lips curled with an emotion she couldn’t place and then his magnificent back was to her, broad and powerful, as he brought a fancy-looking machine to life and began to brew two coffees. Hers was in an ordinary-size cup, his a short black, just the essence of coffee.
‘Go.’
Nervous butterflies filled her belly. She took a deep breath, summoning her professional experience and the plan she’d been slaving over for weeks.
‘Your sister has spoken about this castle often, you know. As a teenager, before the accident,’ she offered with a sympathetic grimace, the pain of losing your parents one with which Lucinda was familiar, ‘she was interviewed by one of those teen magazines and she mentioned family holidays here. I know it’s very special to her.’
Thirio’s expression was inscrutable but something in his eyes made the butterflies in her tummy double in number.
‘And it’s such a spectacular venue. I knew as soon as I saw a picture that it would be just perfect.’
Silence crackled around them.
‘Perfect for what?’ he asked, his casual tone forced, so she knew that tension underpinned it.
Okay. This was going to take work. ‘The wedding.’ She rushed on before he could argue. ‘In my plan, I have overcome every objection you could make. The logistics of transporting guests from the town to here, the accommodation that could be offered, the caterers. I saw from some photographs online that there’s a ballroom. Your sister and her fiancé have said they want an intimate—’
‘No.’ He held up a hand, silencing her with that one word and gesture. But for good measure, he added, enunciating slowly, ‘Absolutely not.’
She’d expected this. Not when she’d first arrived, certainly, but from almost the moment he’d returned home and greeted her like a bear with a hole in his head.
‘The private areas of the house would remain cordoned off. We would only grant access to the ballroom indoors, and the chapel outside.’
‘There is no chapel outside.’
‘There would be, though, made from calico. A large timber floor with a lattice of fairy lights overhead, like a chandelier against the sky. The smell of pine needles filling the space. It will be so incredible. Just what Evie would want.’
His expression bore down on her like a freight train. ‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘There are one thousand reasons I could give you, but let’s go with this one: I don’t want strangers in my house.’
‘They wouldn’t be in your house,’ she said slowly. ‘I told you, we would keep guests to allotted areas. Your privacy would be protected.’
‘No.’
She took in a deep, steadying breath. ‘I understand your resistance, but...’
His laugh was short and sharp. ‘This proposal is a dead end. If that’s all you’ve got, then you’ve wasted your time.’
But Lucinda knew he was wrong. Oh, not about his personal wishes, but about what Evie would want.
‘Do you agree your sister would want her wedding here?’
He hesitated. ‘She would never ask it of me.’
His eyes darkened and he collected his coffee cup, stalking to the kitchen sink and placing it in the bowl, before turning to face her. Bare chest. Scar. Strength. She closed her eyes, willing the images away even when they seemed almost burned into her retina. They didn’t help her in this moment.
And then he was walking again, towards the counter, then around it, to stand in front of her. So close she could almost feel the air reverberating with each breath he pushed out. His chest moved, and her stomach twisted. Desire stirred, heating the blood that gushed through her veins.
Focus. Charm him. Change his mind.
‘I can show you how it would work.’
‘But it won’t work.’ The words were chilling even when fire seemed to be ravaging her insides. She sucked in a deep breath and tasted him in her mouth. Her belly flopped and she had to clamp her lips together to bite back a soft moan from escaping.
