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And there was a flash in his gaze that made the skin over her bones seem to draw tight. She was suddenly aware of herself in a way she never had been before. Right there on the porch steps of the comfortable old farmhouse, she felt...lush, somehow. Her breasts ached and felt heavier than before. There was a shivery sensation that started at the nape of her neck and wound its way ever lower, down the length of her spine, spreading more of that shimmering lushness as it went. Strangest and most wonderful of all was that between her legs, she felt hot and bright.
Maybe it wasn’t her fault that she’d never paid much attention to the boys she’d grown up with. Maybe the problem was that none of them had ever looked at her and made her feel like a whole weather system.
As if, that voice inside her whispered,the moment you met this man you became someone else. Not because of your blood. But because he changed you from a farm girl into a princess with a glance.
And shefeltit. She felt different, down deep in her bones. As if no matter what happened, even if she returned here the way she wanted to, she would never be the same.
But Delaney also knew, in a flash of insight that felt like truth no matter how odd, that she must not, under any circumstances, start talking to this man aboutweather.Whatever she did, she needed to keep how profoundly changed she feltto herself.
“I expected your mother to see you off,” Cayetano said, and there was a note in his voice that made her wonder how long she’d been standing on the porch like this.Gazingat him.
It must have been at least a minute or two, because he was no longer standing beside his vehicle. He was standing in front of her. She was sure that if she inhaled, his scent was there, a faint hint of spice and heat that made her...wantthings.
Mostly Delaney wanted to lift her hand to her cheeks, to test the heat there, but she thought that would be a dead giveaway. And she was not going to tell him aboutherweather issues. No matter how close he was.
She scowled at the bag Catherine had insisted she pack, there at her feet. “We’ve already said our goodbyes. We don’t need to perform them out here for you to see it.”
“I understand,” he said smoothly. “Parting must be difficult.”
It might kill her, actually—but Delaney refused to cry anymore. And not where Cayetano Arcieri could see it. She focused on him instead. Today he was wearing another one of those suits that made her reconsider her stance on suiting altogether. Because on him, there was no denying it looked good. Even out here on the farm, where he should have looked silly wearing such formal clothes.
Nothing about this man was silly.
But, no matter how good he looked, he was still the reason that she was being forced to do this. She picked up her bag with very little grace, and then practically bit her tongue to keep from reacting when he simply...took it from her hand. Then dropped it back on the ground.
“My woman must necessarily carry many burdens,” he told her in that way he had, like he was inscribing stone as he spoke. “Such is my lot in life, and thus hers. But she does not carry her own luggage as long as I am alive.”
He moved to usher her toward the vehicle, lifting a finger in the direction of one of the other tinted windows. And that lifted finger was a call to action, clearly, because another car door opened immediately. When she glanced back over her shoulder, her bag was being loaded into one of the other SUVs.
But there was no time to concentrate on such practical matters, because Cayetano was closing her inside the vehicle he’d exited. The interior was dark. Cool. And noisy—
Until she realized that the racket was inside her. It was the thunder of her pulse through her veins. It was her heart, deep and loud.
And when Cayetano swung into the deep seat beside her, that didn’t help.
I’ve made a terrible mistake, Delaney thought in a panic.
She only realized she’d said that out loud when Cayetano shifted in the leather seat beside her. He reached over and took her hand in his, a nurturing sort of gesture that astonished her. She was...floored. So much so that she couldn’t seem to do a thing save freeze in response.
He didn’t squeeze her hand the way her mother might. In fact, the longer he held her fingers in his, the heat of his palm skyrocketing through her, the less nurturing she found the whole thing.
She expected him to say something. To make another one of those statements of his, so matter of fact, as if the world would arrange itself before him as he willed it. Simply because he wished it.
But he said nothing. It was only when she heard her own breath come out in a long sigh, from somewhere deep inside her, that she recognized the uncomfortable truth. The simple act of him holding her hand was...calming.
It wasn’t only calming. It was a great many other things and a significant number of weather changes, but above and around and in all of that, it wascalming.
Nothing could have confused her more. How could anything about a man so elemental be calming? How was it possible?
It took her a long time to lift her gaze to his, but when she did, she caught her breath all over again.
Cayetano’s burnt gold eyes blazed. And there was something about the hard stamp of his mouth that made everything inside her feel overly fragile. Perilous, even. As if she wasn’t sitting down in plush leather but teetering over the side of some great height, so high she didn’t dare look over to see the ground that must surely be rushing toward her—
He dropped her hand, but it was not until he pulled a buzzing cell phone out of his pocket that she understood why. Even then, she had the most bizarre urge to protest. To reclaim his hand. To touch him as if this was something she did, leaping into strange cars with strange men who wanted impossible things from her. Dark, overwhelming things involving thrones and vows, no less.
And maybe a weather system or two, came that voice.
This time sounding amused, the way her grandmother would have been if she’d been around to see her usually unflappable granddaughter so...flapped.
