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“Waffles.” With a brief nod he turned away, but before he left he spoke over his shoulder. “Take your time. I’ll send one of the maids to check on Marc.” And then he was off, striding down the hallway.
Noelle leaned against the heavy wood door, taking stock of the graceless lethargy in her limbs and the fanciful fluttering of her heart. She touched the tip of her tongue to her lips, noting they were still tender from last night’s fervent kisses.
She closed her bedroom door and headed for the bathroom, determined to enjoy a long hot shower. Catching sight of her reflection, she noticed the invigorating start to her morning had put a smile on her face. The urge to hum surprised her, and she pushed aside the rational side of her brain that wanted to squash all her reckless joy. Monday morning would be soon enough for her return to cold reality. Until then she intended to see where this new beginning with Christian would take them.
* * *
Christian was still cursing his lack of control around Noelle as he reached the ground floor. As if summoned by his thoughts, Mrs. Francas popped into his line of sight and he stopped short.
“Is it possible for waffles to be served for breakfast?”
“Cook has a new recipe she will be happy to show off.”
“And could you send one of the maids to check on Marc? I told Noelle we would take care of him this morning.”
“Of course. I will send Elise.” Mrs. Francas bowed. “There’s coffee and this week’s paper waiting for you in the salon.”
“Thank you.”
After his sleepless night, Christian was ready to consume an entire pot of the strong black stuff his cook brewed. The local paper awaited him beside the silver coffee service. When he came to Bracci Castle, he enjoyed immersing himself in the country life and unplugging from the world at large. Some trips he was more successful than others. Multimillion-dollar business deals rarely went smoothly. This weekend, however, he’d warned his assistant not to bother him with anything short of total bankruptcy.
He needed his complete focus on winning over Marc and demonstrating to Noelle that he was ready to be a father and a husband. Yesterday had been an emotional roller coaster for him. For a while during the afternoon, when Marc had abandoned his antagonism, Christian thought his troubles were over. He should have known it wouldn’t be so easy. The boy was an Alessandro, after all. Maybe not in name, but certainly in personality and stubbornness.
Christian was on the sofa with a cup of coffee at his elbow, deep into an article about a northern Tuscany mudslide that swept away a house, injuring several people, when he heard a pair of voices coming down the stairs toward the salon. His composure took a hit as excitement and anxiety built. This weekend was a significant step toward the rest of his life. What happened here not only determined the future of his country’s stability, but also any hope that Christian might have for happiness.
He pushed aside the thought that he didn’t deserve Noelle or the joy she brought to his life. He’d lost her once because of his selfish stupidity. Screwing up a second time was not an option.
Christian was on his feet and moving to the stairs as his energetic son brushed past him in a mad dash to get to the dining room and the promised waffles. Chuckling, Christian held his hand out to Noelle as she completed her descent. His pulse bucked as she placed her elegant fingers against his palm and he found his lips curving into a foolish grin.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “You look beautiful.”
Today’s dress was a half sleeve, French blue sheath, paired with a whimsical pendant necklace. She’d donned flats instead of her usual pumps, which reminded Christian of her petite stature and inspired his protective instincts. Not that she needed his help. Her brown eyes sparkled with confidence above her cheerful smile.
“Thank you.” To his surprise, she linked her arm with his as they headed out of the salon. “It was nice of you to send Elise to watch Marc. I was able to shower and dress without any interruption.”
She gave a heartfelt sigh that made him long to pull her into a quiet corner and sink his fingers into the dark, wavy hair cascading over her shoulders. The lingering aftermath of the morning’s fiery kiss continued to pulse through his veins like a potent cocktail consumed too quickly.
“You’re welcome.” Despite three cups of strong coffee, he felt sluggish and tongue-tied with her body pressed along his side.
“Will we be going to your winery today? I’m looking forward to seeing where Sherdana’s finest vintages are made.”
