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Authors: Jennifer Hayward
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fiery red ball sinking behind the hills. Quinn pulled her mare to a halt behind Anteros, so glad she had taken the challenge and gone on horseback. The view would not have been nearly the same in a Jeep. Would not have allowed her to truly appreciate the beauty and scale of the massive historic vineyard.
She leaned over and patted the mare’s silky neck, feeling rather victorious at conquering her fear. The sun and fresh air had cleared the throb in her head and chased away her jet lag.
“You really are lovely,” she murmured. The mare’s ears pricked up as if to say, yes, I know .
Matteo dismounted, tethered his horse and came to stand beside her. A smile curved his lips. “Feeling braver?”
She shrugged. “You were right. She’s wonderful.”
“She is.”
She slid her feet out of the stirrups. Her legs felt like limp spaghetti, her butt so numb she couldn’t feel it anymore. “Walking might be an issue,” she murmured.
“Why do you think I’m standing here?” He held out his hands. “Come.”
Why that command made her heartbeat increase by about ten beats per second was beyond her. She swung her leg over the saddle and let him lift her down. He kept his hands around her waist as he had last night to steady her, except this time she hadn’t consumed a bottle of wine and she had her wits about her. Not that that seemed to help. His earthy, male scent was even more intoxicating than the aftershave he’d had on the night before. The hard strength of his arms around her equally so. Maybe it was just the general Matteo effect, she admitted, pulling in a steadying breath. Because he was more male than any man she’d met in her life. Hands down.
She stepped back and made herself busy spreading the blanket he handed her on the grass. If she didn’t look at all the maleness and certainly if she didn’t touch it, she could keep this under control.
Right?
Matteo took a bottle of De Campo’s prizewinning champagne out of the saddlebags, along with glasses and a Swiss Army knife. Quinn gave him a wry glance as she eased her sore body down on the blanket. “Not too much for me.”
“You can’t enjoy this view without at least a taste.” He handed her the glasses and deftly opened the bottle. “It’s a tradition.”
The sparkling liquid he poured into their glasses was the palest of golden yellows. The blanket seemed to shrink to miniscule proportions as he folded himself down beside her and handed her a glass. She eased toward the opposite edge in a subtle movement. The corners of Matteo’s mouth lifted. “I’m hogging,” she offered in an offhand tone.
“Mmm,” he nodded. “You and your huge surface mass.”
She couldn’t help her smile. She unleashed it so infrequently these days it felt good to get it out. “Thank you for today,” she said, tipping her glass toward him. “I’m glad you convinced me to do it on horseback. It was amazing.”
“Prego.” He lifted his glass. “Salute.”
She tipped the liquid into her mouth. The tiny bubbles exploded on her tongue like the most potent ambrosia. Wow. She wasn’t normally a huge fan of champagne or any sparkling wine for that matter, but this was dry and tart and perfectly balanced.
Matteo sat back on his elbows. “So tell me about our trip to St. Lucia. What are we going to see?”
She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, letting her glass dangle from her fingers. “We have two hotels on the island. They’ll allow you to see the two sides of Luxe, one of our jewels, and one of our properties that needs a lot of work. Paradis Entre les Montagnes near the island’s famous twin volcanoes has been ranked one of the world’s top five luxury hotels. Our chef there is top-notch, the menu ready to go for the wine pairings. Le Belle Bleu, on the north end of the island, is about to reopen after an extensive renovation. It’s a work in progress. The menus haven’t been finalized yet. But all the more
She leaned over and patted the mare’s silky neck, feeling rather victorious at conquering her fear. The sun and fresh air had cleared the throb in her head and chased away her jet lag.
“You really are lovely,” she murmured. The mare’s ears pricked up as if to say, yes, I know .
Matteo dismounted, tethered his horse and came to stand beside her. A smile curved his lips. “Feeling braver?”
She shrugged. “You were right. She’s wonderful.”
“She is.”
She slid her feet out of the stirrups. Her legs felt like limp spaghetti, her butt so numb she couldn’t feel it anymore. “Walking might be an issue,” she murmured.
“Why do you think I’m standing here?” He held out his hands. “Come.”
Why that command made her heartbeat increase by about ten beats per second was beyond her. She swung her leg over the saddle and let him lift her down. He kept his hands around her waist as he had last night to steady her, except this time she hadn’t consumed a bottle of wine and she had her wits about her. Not that that seemed to help. His earthy, male scent was even more intoxicating than the aftershave he’d had on the night before. The hard strength of his arms around her equally so. Maybe it was just the general Matteo effect, she admitted, pulling in a steadying breath. Because he was more male than any man she’d met in her life. Hands down.
She stepped back and made herself busy spreading the blanket he handed her on the grass. If she didn’t look at all the maleness and certainly if she didn’t touch it, she could keep this under control.
Right?
Matteo took a bottle of De Campo’s prizewinning champagne out of the saddlebags, along with glasses and a Swiss Army knife. Quinn gave him a wry glance as she eased her sore body down on the blanket. “Not too much for me.”
“You can’t enjoy this view without at least a taste.” He handed her the glasses and deftly opened the bottle. “It’s a tradition.”
The sparkling liquid he poured into their glasses was the palest of golden yellows. The blanket seemed to shrink to miniscule proportions as he folded himself down beside her and handed her a glass. She eased toward the opposite edge in a subtle movement. The corners of Matteo’s mouth lifted. “I’m hogging,” she offered in an offhand tone.
“Mmm,” he nodded. “You and your huge surface mass.”
She couldn’t help her smile. She unleashed it so infrequently these days it felt good to get it out. “Thank you for today,” she said, tipping her glass toward him. “I’m glad you convinced me to do it on horseback. It was amazing.”
“Prego.” He lifted his glass. “Salute.”
She tipped the liquid into her mouth. The tiny bubbles exploded on her tongue like the most potent ambrosia. Wow. She wasn’t normally a huge fan of champagne or any sparkling wine for that matter, but this was dry and tart and perfectly balanced.
Matteo sat back on his elbows. “So tell me about our trip to St. Lucia. What are we going to see?”
She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, letting her glass dangle from her fingers. “We have two hotels on the island. They’ll allow you to see the two sides of Luxe, one of our jewels, and one of our properties that needs a lot of work. Paradis Entre les Montagnes near the island’s famous twin volcanoes has been ranked one of the world’s top five luxury hotels. Our chef there is top-notch, the menu ready to go for the wine pairings. Le Belle Bleu, on the north end of the island, is about to reopen after an extensive renovation. It’s a work in progress. The menus haven’t been finalized yet. But all the more
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