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“That’s sweet of you to say.”
“What if it’s the truth?”
His eyes devoured her features with a fierce hunger she wasn’t ready to believe was anything more than sexual interest. After all, they were still hot and naked and wrapped in each other’s arms.
“The view is lovely from the villa,” he continued. “You need a break. Besides, I’m sick of my mother’s silences and dark looks. I’m not used to spending so much time with her. She doesn’t ask about you, but you’re constantly on her mind.”
The cool night wind shivered in the pines before dancing across her hot skin.
“I’m sorry.”
“She doesn’t like being thwarted. In Cannes, even though it’s crowded, we might have some real privacy. Everybody here is her spy.”
“Do you really want me all to yourself?”
“Why don’t you come and find out?”
She nodded absently as she realized how lonely she’d be without him. Besides, she loved beach towns. But what if some former lover as beautiful as Céline were there to tempt him? Or Céline herself? Amy was startled by how much the thought chilled her.
This wasn’t a real romance. It was unwise to feel so possessive, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
“Good,” he said. “Tomorrow, then! Ten o’clock in the morning.”
He sounded so thrilled her heart began to pound.
“All right.” She grinned, happy that he’d been so determined to take her with him.
He kissed the tip of her nose and slid halfway off her. “Why me?” he murmured so tenderly against her ear that a lump formed in her throat. “Why did you pick me?”
His intense gaze made her heart skip.
Feeling too raw and unsure about revealing her true feelings, she had no choice but to tease him. “Timing I suppose. You just popped into my life when I needed somebody with your skills. All those awful things about you in the newspapers definitely tipped the scales in your favor.”
He cursed low in French before adding in a strained tone, “You chose me because you think I’m bad?”
She nodded.
“Well, since I’m training you, I advise that when you’re with your next lover, you not be so brutally honest.”
“Oh, I won’t, I assure you.”
She laughed. He didn’t.
“Réellement, chérie.”
“You aren’t like my future lovers or the husband who will father all my soccer players. We both know you’re a heartless womanizer—a man without a heart, who’s so focused on what he wants, he can’t be hurt.”
“Right! You’ve read the papers, so you know me well.” Tensing, he eased even farther away from her. Even though his face was in shadow, she could tell his jaw was clenched. Every muscle in his body felt coiled and hard.
“You are becoming like me, even in the short time we’ve known each other,” he said in a controlled tone. “More than you know.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If you weren’t like me, you couldn’t make love so enthusiastically with a man you can’t really care about.”
“We both agreed I would be stupid to let myself care about you. This month is about empowerment, not love. You can’t possibly understand what it’s been like for me. My sister is super-gorgeous. She was always the winner, while I…I just decided not to try—until I met you.”
“You think this is a game? Okay, I won’t argue. You have your opinion and I have mine.”
“Then why are you suddenly so angry?”
“Dammit, who’s angry?”
Abruptly he jumped off the chaise longue, strode to the pool and dived into the deep end. As he swam rapid laps, the moonlight glittered across the bunched, muscular curves of his tanned arms.
She sat up. Somewhere in the forest, a lone nightingale broke into song. Feeling chilled, Amy wrapped herself in a towel. The longer she watched him, the more awkward and rejected she felt.
Why was he so angry? Had she hurt him? Surely not.
Why did she care so much that she might have hurt him? Or that he thought she was as bad as he was?
He was wrong. She wasn’t like him. No matter what, she would stick to her plan.
It was becoming more and more difficult for Amy to pretend that she could be with Remy and not come to care about him.Constantly she reminded herself that he wanted only one thing from her, Château Serene, just as she wanted only one thing from him—sexual confidence. She’d made the rules for their relationship. Now all she had to do was live by them.
So knowing all this, she shouldn’t be so excited about going to Cannes that she spent half the night packing for the trip. She’d choose an outfit, lay the pieces out on the bed and eye them critically before trying them on. Then she’d work endlessly with her shoes, jewelry and purses, only to discard her selections in a heap and run to the closet and yank more things out. Nothing seemed right. She grabbed some sleep and then resumed packing in the morning. She was still at it when she heard his Alfa Romeo in her drive.
